SCENE, during the greater Part of the Play, in Verona; once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua. PROLOGUE. Two households, both alike in dignity, Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, naught could re move, Is now the two-hours' traffic of our stage; The which, if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. SCENE I.-A Public Place. ACT I. Sam. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.1 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. 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 runn'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. 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 I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. A phrase formerly in use, to signify the bearing injuries. Gre. The heads of the maids? heads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden 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.2 Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Enter ABRAM and BALTHAZAR. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of 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? Sam. 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. Sam. No, sir; I do not bite my thumb at you, sir: but I bite my thumb, sir. Poor John is hake, dried and salted. La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes 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 neighbor-stained steel,Will they not hear?-what, ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage 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 thrust and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part. Clubs was the usual exclamation at an affray in the streets, as we Low call Watch! La. Mon. O, where is Romeo?-saw you him to day? 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 humor, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? 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. Ben. But new struck nine. 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 Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Ben. Ben. shown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' fears. • Appeared. [Going. What is it else? a madness most discreet, Ben. Tell me in sadness who she is you love. But sadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will :Ah, word ill-urged 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 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; From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and in that vow, Do I live dead, that live to tell it now. Ben. Be ruled 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. SCENE II-A Street. Par. Of honorable reckoning? are you both; Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, more. At my poor house, look to behold this night Inherits at my house; hear all, all see, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. 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 cure with another's lan guish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, For your broken shin. 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 any thing you see? Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the lan 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.9 Rest you merry. [Exit. 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 eye, 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 fires! And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,- One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun 1 SCENE III-A Room in Capulet's House. Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse. 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! God forbid!-where's this girl?-what, Juliet! Enter JULIET. Jul. How now, who calls? Jul. What is your will? Your mother. Madam, I am here, La. Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. La. Cap. She's not fourteen. Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four,— She is not fourteen: How long is it now To Lammas-tide? La. Cap. A fortnight and odd days. 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 Christain souls!— Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me: But as I said, 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,Of all the days in the year, upon that day: For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, My lord and you were then at Mantua :Nay, I do bear a brain:-But, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge. And since that time it is eleven years: For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said- Ay. La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy 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 Here, in Verona, ladies of esteem, 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: 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, Torchbearers, 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 hoodwink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;2 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,3 and be gone. Rom. Give me a torch,-I am not for this Being but heavy, I will bear the light. ambling; 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 impierced 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 boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Well made, as if he had been modelled in wax. The comments on ancient books were always printed in the margin. i.e. Is not yet caught, whose skin was wanted to bind him. 2 A scare-crow, a figure made up to frighten crows. A dance. A torch bearer was a constant appendage to every troop of maskers. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.— Give me a case to put my visage in; [Putting on a Mask. A visor for a visor!-what care I, What curious eye doth quotes deformities? Here are the beetle brows, shall blush for me. Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; 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 And so did I. true. Mer. O, then; I see, queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes On courtiers' knces, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: Rom. And more inconstant than the wind, who wous 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, clos'd 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. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House. 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 march-pane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.-Antony! and Potpan! Unplagued 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, A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, [Music plays, and they dance. By'r lady, thirty years. 1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: 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: Beauty too rich for use, for carth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,. And, touching hers, make happy 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, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? A sideboard on which the plate was placed. 2 Almond-cake. a i. e. Make room. • The dance. |