The Prologue

Enter Chorus

Chorus

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

Doth 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 remove,

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

Exit

Act I

Scene I

Verona. A public place

Enter Sampson and Gregory (with swords and bucklers) of the house of Capulet

Sampson

Gregory, on my word, we’ll not carry coals

Gregory

No, for then we should be colliers

Sampson

I mean, an we be in choler, we’ll draw

Gregory

Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar

Sampson

I strike quickly, being moved

Gregory

But thou art not quickly moved to strike

Sampson

A dog of the house of Montague moves me

Gregory

To move is to stir, and to be valiant is to stand

Therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away

Sampson

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

Gregory

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

Sampson

‘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

Gregory

The quarrel is between our masters and us their men

Sampson

‘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

Gregory

The heads of the maids?

Sampson

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads

Take it in what sense thou wilt

Gregory

They must take it in sense that feel it

Sampson

Me they shall feel while I am able to stand; and ‘tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh

Gregory

‘Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor-John. Draw thy tool! Here comes two of the house of Montagues

Enter two other Servingmen [Abram and Balthasar]

Sampson

My naked weapon is out. Quarrel! I will back thee

Gregory

How? turn thy back and run?

Sampson

Fear me not

Gregory

No, marry. I fear thee!

Sampson

Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin

Gregory

I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list

Sampson

Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is disgrace to them, if they bear it

Abram

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sampson

I do bite my thumb, sir

Abram

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sampson

[aside to Gregory] Is the law of our side if I say ay?

Gregory

[aside to Sampson] No

Sampson

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir

Gregory

Do you quarrel, sir?

Abram

Quarrel, sir? No, sir

Sampson

But if you do, sir, am for you. I serve as good a man as you

Abram

No better

Sampson

Well, sir

Enter Benvolio

Gregory

[aside to Sampson] Say ‘better.’ Here comes one of my master’s kinsmen

Sampson

Yes, better, sir

Abram

You lie

Sampson

Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow

They fight

Benvolio

Part, fools! [Beats down their swords.]

Put up your swords. You know not what you do

Enter Tybalt

Tybalt

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?

Turn thee Benvolio! look upon thy death

Benvolio

I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me

Tybalt

What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee

Have at thee, coward!They fight

Enter an officer, and three or four Citizens with clubs or partisans

Officer

Clubs, bills, and partisans! Strike! beat them down!

Citizens

Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!

Enter Old Capulet in his gown, and his Wife

Capulet

What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!

Wife

A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?

Capulet

My sword, I say! Old Montague is come

And flourishes his blade in spite of me

Enter Old Montague and his Wife

Montague

Thou villain Capulet!- Hold me not, let me go

Lady Montague

Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe

Enter Prince Escalus, with his Train

Prince

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

With purple fountains issuing from your veins!

On pain of torture, from those bloody hands

Throw your mistempered 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 partisans, in hands as old,

Cank’red with peace, to part your cank’red 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 farther pleasure in this case,

To old Freetown, our common judgment place

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart

Exeunt [all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio]

Montague

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Benvolio

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

Montague’s Wife. O, where is Romeo? Saw you him to-day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray

Benvolio

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,

Which then most sought where most might not be found,

Being one too many by my weary self-

Pursu’d my humour, not Pursuing his,

And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me

Montague

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;

But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

Should in the farthest East bean to draw

The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,

Away from light steals home my heavy son

And private in his chamber pens himself,

Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight

And makes himself an artificial night

Black and portentous must this humour prove

Unless good counsel may the cause remove

Benvolio

My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

Montague

I neither know it nor can learn of him

Benvolio

Have you importun’d him by any means?

Montague

Both by myself and many other friend;

But he, his own affections’ counsellor,

Is to himself- I will not say how true-

But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery,

As is the bud bit with an envious worm

Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air

Or dedicate his beauty to the sun

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,

We would as willingly give cure as know

Enter Romeo

Benvolio

See, where he comes. So please you step aside,

I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied

Montague

I would thou wert so happy by thy stay

To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away,

Exeunt [Montague and Wife]

Benvolio

Good morrow, cousin

Romeo

Is the day so young?

Benvolio

But new struck nine

Romeo

Ay me! sad hours seem long

Was that my father that went hence so fast?

Benvolio

It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

Romeo

Not having that which having makes them short

Benvolio

In love?

Romeo

Out-

Benvolio

Of love?

Romeo

Out of her favour where I am in love

Benvolio

Alas that love, so gentle in his view,

Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Romeo

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 anything, of nothing first create!

O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

Misshapen 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?

Benvolio

No, coz, I rather weep

Romeo

Good heart, at what?

Benvolio

At thy good heart’s oppression

Romeo

Why, such is love’s transgression

Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,

Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest

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 purg’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

Benvolio

Soft! I will go along

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong

Romeo

Tut! I have lost myself; I am not here:

This is not Romeo, he’s some other where

Benvolio

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?

Romeo

What, shall I groan and tell thee?

Benvolio

Groan? Why, no;

But sadly tell me who

Romeo

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

Benvolio

I aim’d so near when I suppos’d you lov’d

Romeo

A right good markman! And she’s fair I love

Benvolio

A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit

Romeo

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’s rich in beauty; only poor

That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store

Benvolio

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

Romeo

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

Benvolio

Be rul’d by me: forget to think of her

Romeo

O, teach me how I should forget to think!

Benvolio

By giving liberty unto thine eyes

Examine other beauties

Romeo

‘Tis the way

To call hers (exquisite) in question more

These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows,

Being black puts 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

Benvolio

I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

Exeunt

Scene II

A Street

Enter Capulet, County Paris, and [Servant] -the Clown

Capulet

But 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

Paris

Of honourable reckoning are you both,

And pity ‘tis you liv’d at odds so long

But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Capulet

But saying o’er what I have said before:

My child is yet a stranger in the world,

She hath not seen the change of fourteen years;

Let two more summers wither in their pride

Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride

Paris

Younger than she are happy mothers made

Capulet

And too soon marr’d are those so early made

The earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she;

She is the hopeful lady of my earth

But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart;

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 more

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 reck’ning none

Come, go with me.

[To Servant, giving him a paper] 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-

Exeunt [Capulet and Paris]

Servant

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

Benvolio

Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning;

One pain is lessoned by another’s anguish;

Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;

One desperate grief cures with another’s languish

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die

Romeo

Your plantain leaf is excellent for that

Benvolio

For what, I pray thee?

Romeo

For your broken shin

Benvolio

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Romeo

Not mad, but bound more than a madman is;

Shut up in Prison, kept without my food,

Whipp’d and tormented and- God-den, good fellow

Servant

God gi’ go-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

Romeo

Ay, mine own fortune in my misery

Servant

Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can you read anything you see?

Romeo

Ay, If I know the letters and the language

Servant

Ye say honestly. Rest you merry!

Romeo

Stay, fellow; I can read.He reads

‘Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;

County Anselmo 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 and Livia;

Signior Valentio and His cousin Tybalt;

Lucio and the lively Helena.’

[Gives back the paper.] A fair assembly. Whither should they come?

Servant

Up

Romeo

Whither?

Servant

To supper, to our house

Romeo

Whose house?

Servant

My master’s

Romeo

Indeed I should have ask’d you that before

Servant

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.]

Benvolio

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

Romeo

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

Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun

Benvolio

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 seems best

Romeo

I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown,

But to rejoice in splendour of my own. [Exeunt.]

Scene III

Capulet’s house

Enter Capulet’s Wife, and Nurse

Wife

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 ladybird!

God forbid! Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!

Enter Juliet

Juliet

How now? Who calls?

Nurse

Your mother

Juliet

Madam, I am here

What is your will?

Wife

This is the matter- Nurse, give leave awhile,

We must talk in secret. Nurse, come back again;

I have rememb’red me, thou’s hear our counsel

Thou knowest my daughter’s of a pretty age

Nurse

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour

Wife

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 Lammastide?

Wife

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 Christian 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 of the year, upon that day;

For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,

Sitting in the sun under the dovehouse 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 dovehouse! ‘Twas no need, I trow,

To bid me trudge

And since that time it is eleven years,

For then she could stand high-lone; nay, by th’ rood,

She could have run and waddled all about;

For even the day before, she broke her brow;

And then my husband (God be with his soul!

‘A was a merry man) took up the child

‘Yea,’ quoth he, ‘dost thou fall upon thy face?

Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;

Wilt thou not, Jule?’ and, by my holidam,

The pretty wretch left crying, and said ‘Ay.’

To see now how a jest shall come about!

I warrant, an I should live a thousand yeas,

I never should forget it. ‘Wilt thou not, Jule?’ quoth he,

And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said ‘Ay.’

Wife

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.’

And yet, I warrant, it bad upon it brow

A bump as big as a young cock’rel’s stone;

A perilous knock; and it cried bitterly

‘Yea,’ quoth my husband, ‘fall’st upon thy face?

Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;

Wilt thou not, Jule?’ It stinted, and said ‘Ay.’

Juliet

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

An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish

Wife

Marry, that ‘marry’ is the very theme

I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,

How stands your disposition to be married?

Juliet

It is an honour that I dream not of

Nurse

An honour? Were not I thine only nurse,

I would say thou hadst suck’d wisdom from thy teat

Wife

Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you,

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

Are made already mothers. By my count,

I was your mother much upon these years

That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:

The valiant Paris seeks you for his love

Nurse

A man, young lady! lady, such a man

As all the world- why he’s a man of wax

Wife

Verona’s summer hath not such a flower

Nurse

Nay, he’s a flower, in faith- a very flower

Wife

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 find delight writ there with beauty’s pen;

Examine every married lineament,

And see how one another lends content;

And what obscur’d in this fair volume lies

Find written in the margent of his eyes,

This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

To beautify him only lacks a cover

The fish lives in the sea, and ‘tis much pride

For fair without the fair within to hide

That book in many’s eyes doth share the glory,

That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;

So shall you share all that he doth possess,

By having him making yourself no less

Nurse

No less? Nay, bigger! Women grow by men

Wife

Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?

Juliet

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 Servingman

Servant

Madam, the guests are come, supper serv’d up, you call’d, my young lady ask’d for, the nurse curs’d in the pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to wait. I beseech you follow straight

Wife

We follow thee.

Exit [Servingman]

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 other Maskers; Torchbearers

Romeo

What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

Or shall we on without apology?

Benvolio

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 crowkeeper;

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

Romeo

Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling

Being but heavy, I will bear the light

Mercutio

Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance

Romeo

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

Mercutio

You are a lover. Borrow Cupid’s wings

And soar with them above a common bound

Romeo

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 burthen do I sink

Mercutio

And, to sink in it, should you burthen love-

Too great oppression for a tender thing

Romeo

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,

Too rude, too boist’rous, and it pricks like thorn

Mercutio

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

A visor for a visor! What care I

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me

Benvolio

Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in

But every man betake him to his legs

Romeo

A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart

Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;

For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase,

I’ll be a candle-holder and look on;

The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done

Mercutio

Tut! dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word!

If thou art Dun, we’ll draw thee from the mire

Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick’st

Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

Romeo

Nay, that’s not so

Mercutio

I mean, sir, in delay

We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day

Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

Five times in that ere once in our five wits

Romeo

And we mean well, in going to this masque;

But ‘tis no wit to go

Mercutio

Why, may one ask?

Romeo

I dreamt a dream to-night

Mercutio

And so did I

Romeo

Well, what was yours?

Mercutio

That dreamers often lie

Romeo

In bed asleep, while they do dream things true

Mercutio

O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you

She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate stone

On the forefinger of an alderman,

Drawn with a team of little atomies

Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep;

Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs,

The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;

Her traces, of the smallest spider’s web;

Her collars, of the moonshine’s wat’ry beams;

Her whip, of cricket’s bone; the lash, of film;

Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat,

Not half so big as a round little worm

Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;

Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers

And in this state she ‘gallops night by night

Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;

O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on cursies straight;

O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;

O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,

Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are

Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;

And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail

Tickling a parson’s nose as ‘a lies asleep,

Then dreams he of another benefice

Sometimes she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon

Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,

And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

That plats the manes of horses in the night

And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish, hairs,

Which once untangled much misfortune bodes

This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

That presses them and learns them first to bear,

Making them women of good carriage

This is she-

Romeo

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!

Thou talk’st of nothing

Mercutio

True, I talk of dreams;

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;

Which is as thin of substance as the air,

And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes

Even now the frozen bosom of the North

And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence,

Turning his face to the dew-dropping South

Benvolio

This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves

Supper is done, and we shall come too late

Romeo

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!

Benvolio

Strike, drum

They march about the stage.

Exeunt

Scene V

Capulet’s house

Servingmen come forth with napkins

Servant I

Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away?

He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

Servant II

When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’s hands, and they unwash’d too, ‘tis a foul thing

Servant I

Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cubbert, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell

Anthony, and Potpan!

Servant II

Ay, boy, ready

Servant I

You are look’d for and call’d for, ask’d for and sought for, in the great chamber

Servant III

We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!

Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. [Exeunt]

Enter the Maskers, Enter, [with Servants,] Capulet, his Wife, Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers

Capulet;

Welcome, gentlemen! 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 ye now?

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, you knaves! and turn the tables up,

And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot

Ah, 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?

Capulet II

By’r Lady, thirty years

Capulet

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

Capulet II

‘Tis more, ‘tis more! His son is elder, sir;

His son is thirty

Capulet

Will you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago

Romeo

[to a Servingman] What lady’s that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?

Servant

I know not, sir

Romeo

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear-

Beauty too rich for use, for earth 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 blessed my rude hand

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!

For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night

Tybalt

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?

Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,

To strike him dead I hold it not a sin

Capulet

Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?

Tybalt

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;

A villain, that is hither come in spite

To scorn at our solemnity this night

Capulet

Young Romeo is it?

Tybalt

‘Tis he, that villain Romeo

Capulet

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone

‘A 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

Tybalt

It fits when such a villain is a guest

I’ll not endure him

Capulet

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’ll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will set cock-a-hoop! you’ll be the man!

Tybalt

Why, uncle, ‘tis a shame

Capulet

Go to, go to!

You are a saucy boy. Is’t so, indeed?

This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what

You must contrary me! Marry, ‘tis time.-

Well said, my hearts!- You are a princox- go!

Be quiet, or- More light, more light!- For shame!

I’ll make you quiet; what!- Cheerly, my hearts!

Tybalt

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting

Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting

I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall. Exit

Romeo

If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss

Juliet

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

Romeo

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in pray’r

Romeo

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!

They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair

Juliet

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake

Romeo

Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take

Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg’d. [Kisses her.]

Juliet

Then have my lips the sin that they have took

Romeo

Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg’d!

Give me my sin again.[Kisses her.]

Juliet

You kiss by th’ book

Nurse

Madam, your mother craves a word with you

Romeo

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

Romeo

Is she a Capulet?

O dear account! my life is my foe’s debt

Benvolio

Away, be gone; the sport is at the best

Romeo

Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest

Capulet

Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;

We have a trifling foolish banquet towards

Is it e’en so? Why then, I thank you all

I thank you, honest gentlemen. Good night

More torches here! [Exeunt Maskers.]

Come on then, let’s to bed

Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;

I’ll to my rest

Exeunt [all but Juliet and Nurse]

Juliet

Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?

Nurse

The son and heir of old Tiberio

Juliet

What’s he that now is going out of door?

Nurse

Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio

Juliet

What’s he that follows there, that would not dance?

Nurse

I know not

Juliet

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

Juliet

My only love, sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me

That I must love a loathed enemy

Nurse

What’s this? what’s this?

Juliet

A rhyme I learnt even now

Of one I danc’d withal

One calls within, ‘Juliet.’

Nurse

Anon, anon!

Come, let’s away; the strangers all are gone.

Exeunt

The Prologue

Enter Chorus

Chorus

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir;

That fair for which love groan’d for and would die,

With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair

Now Romeo is belov’d, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;

But to his foe suppos’d he must complain,

And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear,

And she as much in love, her means much less

To meet her new beloved anywhere;

But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,

Temp’ring extremities with extreme sweet

Exit

Act II

Scene I

A lane by the wall of Capulet’s orchard

Enter Romeo alone

Romeo

Can I go forward when my heart is here?

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out

Climbs the wall and leaps down within it

Enter Benvolio with Mercutio

Benvolio

Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo!

Mercutio

He is wise,

And, on my life, hath stol’n him home to bed

Benvolio

He ran this way, and leapt this orchard wall

Call, good Mercutio

Mercutio

Nay, I’ll conjure too

Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!

Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;

Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied!

Cry but ‘Ay me!’ pronounce but ‘love’ and ‘dove’;

Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

One nickname for her purblind son and heir,

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim

When King Cophetua lov’d the beggar maid!

He heareth not, he stirreth not, be moveth not;

The ape is dead, and I must conjure him

I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes

By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,

By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,

And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

Benvolio

An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him

Mercutio

This cannot anger him. ‘Twould anger him

To raise a spirit in his mistress’ circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

Till she had laid it and conjur’d it down

That were some spite; my invocation

Is fair and honest: in his mistress’ name,

I conjure only but to raise up him

Benvolio

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees

To be consorted with the humorous night

Blind is his love and best befits the dark

Mercutio

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark

Now will he sit under a medlar tree

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

As maids call medlars when they laugh alone

O, Romeo, that she were, O that she were

An open et cetera, thou a pop’rin pear!

Romeo, good night. I’ll to my truckle-bed;

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep

Come, shall we go?

Benvolio

Go then, for ‘tis in vain

‘To seek him here that means not to be found

Exeunt

Scene II

Capulet’s orchard

Enter Romeo

Romeo

He jests at scars that never felt a wound

Enter Juliet above at a window

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?

It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief

That thou her maid art far more fair than she

Be not her maid, since she is envious

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off

It is my lady; O, it is my love!

O that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it

I am too bold; ‘tis not to me she speaks

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

Juliet

Ay me!

Romeo

She speaks

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wond’ring eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air

Juliet

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name!

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet

Romeo

[aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague

What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By my other name would smell as sweet

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;

And for that name, which is no part of thee,

Take all myself

Romeo

I take thee at thy word

Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptiz’d;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo

Juliet

What man art thou that, thus bescreen’d in night,

So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee

Had I it written, I would tear the word

Juliet

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Romeo

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike

Juliet

How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here

Romeo

With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt

Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me

Juliet

If they do see thee, they will murther thee

Romeo

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords! Look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity

Juliet

I would not for the world they saw thee here

Romeo

I have night’s cloak to hide me from their sight;

And but thou love me, let them find me here

My life were better ended by their hate

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love

Juliet

By whose direction found’st thou out this place?

Romeo

By love, that first did prompt me to enquire

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes

I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash’d with the farthest sea,

I would adventure for such merchandise

Juliet

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face;

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night

Fain would I dwell on form- fain, fain deny

What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!

Dost thou love me, I know thou wilt say ‘Ay’;

And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear’st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers’ perjuries,

They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully

Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

I’ll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou mayst think my haviour light;

But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ware,

My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered

Romeo

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-

Juliet

O, swear not by the moon, th’ inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable

Romeo

What shall I swear by?

Juliet

Do not swear at all;

Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I’ll believe thee

Romeo

If my heart’s dear love-

Juliet

Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night

It is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say ‘It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!

This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flow’r when next we meet

Good night, good night! As sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast!

Romeo

O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

Juliet

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

Romeo

Th’ exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine

Juliet

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;

And yet I would it were to give again

Romeo

Would’st thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?

Juliet

But to be frank and give it thee again

And yet I wish but for the thing I have

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite

I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu!

[Nurse] calls within

Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true

Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.]

Romeo

O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,

Being in night, all this is but a dream,

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial

Enter Juliet above

Juliet

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed

If that thy bent of love be honourable,

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,

By one that I’ll procure to come to thee,

Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;

And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll lay

And follow thee my lord throughout the world

Nurse

(within) Madam!

Juliet

I come, anon.- But if thou meanest not well,

I do beseech thee-

Nurse

(within) Madam!

Juliet

By-and-by I come.-

To cease thy suit and leave me to my grief

To-morrow will I send

Romeo

So thrive my soul-

Juliet

A thousand times good night! [Exit]

Romeo

A thousand times the worse, to want thy light!

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books;

But love from love, towards school with heavy looks

Enter Juliet again, [above]

Juliet

Hist! Romeo, hist! O for a falconer’s voice

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud;

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine

With repetition of my Romeo’s name

Romeo!

Romeo

It is my soul that calls upon my name

How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears!

Juliet

Romeo!

Romeo

My dear?

Juliet

At what o’clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee?

Romeo

By the hour of nine

Juliet

I will not fail. ‘Tis twenty years till then

I have forgot why I did call thee back

Romeo

Let me stand here till thou remember it

Juliet

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,

Rememb’ring how I love thy company

Romeo

And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,

Forgetting any other home but this

Juliet

‘Tis almost morning. I would have thee gone-

And yet no farther than a wanton’s bird,

That lets it hop a little from her hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty

Romeo

I would I were thy bird

Juliet

Sweet, so would I

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing

Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow

Exit

Romeo

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!

Hence will I to my ghostly father’s cell,

His help to crave and my dear hap to tell

Exit

Scene III

Friar Laurence’s cell

Enter Friar, [Laurence] alone, with a basket

Friar

The grey-ey’d morn smiles on the frowning night,

Check’ring the Eastern clouds with streaks of light;

And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels

From forth day’s path and Titan’s fiery wheels

Non, ere the sun advance his burning eye

The day to cheer and night’s dank dew to dry,

I must up-fill this osier cage of ours

With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers

The earth that’s nature’s mother is her tomb

What is her burying gave, that is her womb;

And from her womb children of divers kind

We sucking on her natural bosom find;

Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some, and yet all different

O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies

In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities;

For naught so vile that on the earth doth live

But to the earth some special good doth give;

Nor aught so good but, strain’d from that fair use,

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied,

And vice sometime’s by action dignified

Within the infant rind of this small flower

Poison hath residence, and medicine power;

For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart

Two such opposed kings encamp them still

In man as well as herbs- grace and rude will;

And where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant

Enter Romeo

Romeo

Good morrow, father

Friar

Benedicite!

What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?

Young son, it argues a distempered head

So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed

Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye,

And where care lodges sleep will never lie;

But where unbruised youth with unstuff’d brain

Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign

Therefore thy earliness doth me assure

Thou art uprous’d with some distemp’rature;

Or if not so, then here I hit it right-

Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night

Romeo

That last is true-the sweeter rest was mine

Friar

God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?

Romeo

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No

I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe

Friar

That’s my good son! But where hast thou been then?

Romeo

I’ll tell thee ere thou ask it me again

I have been feasting with mine enemy,

Where on a sudden one hath wounded me

That’s by me wounded. Both our remedies

Within thy help and holy physic lies

I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,

My intercession likewise steads my foe

Friar

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift

Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift

Romeo

Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is set

On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;

As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,

And all combin’d, save what thou must combine

By holy marriage. When, and where, and how

We met, we woo’d, and made exchange of vow,

I’ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,

That thou consent to marry us to-day

Friar

Holy Saint Francis! What a change is here!

Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,

So soon forsaken? Young men’s love then lies

Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes

Jesu Maria! What a deal of brine

Hath wash’d thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

How much salt water thrown away in waste,

To season love, that of it doth not taste!

The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,

Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears

Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit

Of an old tear that is not wash’d off yet

If e’er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,

Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline

And art thou chang’d? Pronounce this sentence then:

Women may fall when there’s no strength in men

Romeo

Thou chid’st me oft for loving Rosaline

Friar

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine

Romeo

And bad’st me bury love

Friar

Not in a grave

To lay one in, another out to have

Romeo

I pray thee chide not. She whom I love now

Doth grace for grace and love for love allow

The other did not so

Friar

O, she knew well

Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell

But come, young waverer, come go with me

In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;

For this alliance may so happy prove

To turn your households’ rancour to pure love

Romeo

O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste

Friar

Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast

Exeunt

Scene IV

A street

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

Mercutio

Where the devil should this Romeo be?

Came he not home to-night?

Benvolio

Not to his father’s. I spoke with his man

Mercutio

Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,

Torments him so that he will sure run mad

Benvolio

Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,

Hath sent a letter to his father’s house

Mercutio

A challenge, on my life

Benvolio

Romeo will answer it

Mercutio

Any man that can write may answer a letter

Benvolio

Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he dares, being dared

Mercutio

Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabb’d with a white wench’s black eye; shot through the ear with a love song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Benvolio

Why, what is Tybalt?

Mercutio

More than Prince of Cats, I can tell you. O, he’s the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing pricksong-keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom! the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist! a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause. Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverse! the hay

Benvolio

The what?

Mercutio

The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes- these new tuners of accent! ‘By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good whore!’ Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsir, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardona-mi’s, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones!

Enter Romeo

Benvolio

Here comes Romeo! here comes Romeo!

Mercutio

Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench (marry, she had a better love to berhyme her), Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy,

Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, This be a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! There’s a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night

Romeo

Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?

Mercutio

The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?

Romeo

Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy

Mercutio

That’s as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams

Romeo

Meaning, to cursy

Mercutio

Thou hast most kindly hit it

Romeo

A most courteous exposition

Mercutio

Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy

Romeo

Pink for flower

Mercutio

Right

Romeo

Why, then is my pump well-flower’d

Mercutio

Well said! Follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular

Romeo

O single-sold jest, solely singular for the singleness!

Mercutio

Come between us, good Benvolio! My wits faint

Romeo

Swits and spurs, swits and spurs! or I’ll cry a match

Mercutio

Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done; for thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose?

Romeo

Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose

Mercutio

I will bite thee by the ear for that jest

Romeo

Nay, good goose, bite not!

Mercutio

Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce

Romeo

And is it not, then, well serv’d in to a sweet goose?

Mercutio

O, here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad!

Romeo

I stretch it out for that word ‘broad,’ which, added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose

Mercutio

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature. For this drivelling love is like a great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole

Benvolio

Stop there, stop there!

Mercutio

Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair

Benvolio

Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large

Mercutio

O, thou art deceiv’d! I would have made it short; for I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argument no longer

Romeo

Here’s goodly gear!

Enter Nurse and her Man [Peter]

Mercutio

A sail, a sail!

Benvolio

Two, two! a shirt and a smock

Nurse

Peter!

Peter

Anon

Nurse

My fan, Peter

Mercutio

Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s the fairer face of the two

Nurse

God ye good morrow, gentlemen

Mercutio

God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman

Nurse

Is it good-den?

Mercutio

‘Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon

Nurse

Out upon you! What a man are you!

Romeo

One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar

Nurse

By my troth, it is well said. ‘For himself to mar,’ quoth

‘a? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young

Romeo?

Romeo

I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse

Nurse

You say well

Mercutio

Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i’ faith! wisely, wisely

Nurse

If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you

Benvolio

She will endite him to some supper

Mercutio

A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!

Romeo

What hast thou found?

Mercutio

No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent

He walks by them and sings

An old hare hoar,

And an old hare hoar,

Is very good meat in Lent;

But a hare that is hoar

Is too much for a score

When it hoars ere it be spent

Romeo, will you come to your father’s? We’ll to dinner thither

Romeo

I will follow you

Mercutio

Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell,

[sings] lady, lady, lady

Exeunt

Mercutio, Benvolio

Nurse

Marry, farewell! I Pray you, Sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?

Romeo

A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month

Nurse

An ‘a speak anything against me, I’ll take him down, an ‘a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; and if I cannot,

I’ll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!

Peter

I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you. I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side

Nurse

Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out. What she bid me say, I will keep to myself; but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say; for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be off’red to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing

Romeo

Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee-

Nurse

Good heart, and I faith I will tell her as much. Lord,

Lord! she will be a joyful woman

Romeo

What wilt thou tell her, nurse? Thou dost not mark me

Nurse

I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer

Romeo

Bid her devise

Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;

And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell

Be shriv’d and married. Here is for thy pains

Nurse

No, truly, sir; not a penny

Romeo

Go to! I say you shall

Nurse

This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there

Romeo

And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall

Within this hour my man shall be with thee

And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,

Which to the high topgallant of my joy

Must be my convoy in the secret night

Farewell. Be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains

Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress

Nurse

Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir

Romeo

What say’st thou, my dear nurse?

Nurse

Is your man secret? Did you ne’er hear say,

Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

Romeo

I warrant thee my man’s as true as steel

Nurse

Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, Lord! when ‘twas a little prating thing- O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but

I’ll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with

a letter?

Romeo

Ay, nurse; what of that? Both with an R

Nurse

Ah, mocker! that’s the dog’s name. R is for the- No; I know it begins with some other letter; and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it

Romeo

Commend me to thy lady

Nurse

Ay, a thousand times.

[Exit Romeo.] Peter!

Peter

Anon

Nurse

Peter, take my fan, and go before, and apace

Exeunt

Scene V

Capulet’s orchard

Enter Juliet

Juliet

The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;

In half an hour she ‘promis’d to return

Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so

O, she is lame! Love’s heralds should be thoughts,

Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams

Driving back shadows over low’ring hills

Therefore do nimble-pinion’d doves draw Love,

And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings

Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve

Is three long hours; yet she is not come

Had she affections and warm youthful blood,

She would be as swift in motion as a ball;

My words would bandy her to my sweet love,

And his to me,

But old folks, many feign as they were dead-

Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead

Enter Nurse [and Peter]

O God, she comes! O honey nurse, what news?

Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away

Nurse

Peter, stay at the gate [Exit Peter.]

Juliet

Now, good sweet nurse- O Lord, why look’st thou sad?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;

If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news

By playing it to me with so sour a face

Nurse

I am aweary, give me leave awhile

Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I had!

Juliet

I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news

Nay, come, I pray thee speak. Good, good nurse, speak

Nurse

Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile?

Do you not see that I am out of breath?

Juliet

How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath

To say to me that thou art out of breath?

The excuse that thou dost make in this delay

Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse

Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that

Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance

Let me be satisfied, is’t good or bad?

Nurse

Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he. Though his face be better than any man’s, yet his leg excels all men’s; and for a hand and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talk’d on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but, I’ll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God

What, have you din’d at home?

Juliet

No, no. But all this did I know before

What says he of our marriage? What of that?

Nurse

Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!

It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces

My back o’ t’ other side,- ah, my back, my back!

Beshrew your heart for sending me about

To catch my death with jauncing up and down!

Juliet

I’ faith, I am sorry that thou art not well

Sweet, sweet, Sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Nurse

Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome; and, I warrant, a virtuous- Where is your mother?

Juliet

Where is my mother? Why, she is within

Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!

‘Your love says, like an honest gentleman,

“Where is your mother?”’

Nurse

O God’s Lady dear!

Are you so hot? Marry come up, I trow

Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

Henceforward do your messages yourself

Juliet

Here’s such a coil! Come, what says Romeo?

Nurse

Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?

Juliet

I have

Nurse

Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell;

There stays a husband to make you a wife

Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks:

They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news

Hie you to church; I must another way,

To fetch a ladder, by the which your love

Must climb a bird’s nest soon when it is dark

I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;

But you shall bear the burthen soon at night

Go; I’ll to dinner; hie you to the cell

Juliet

Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell

Exeunt

Scene VI

Friar Laurence’s cell

Enter Friar [Laurence] and Romeo

Friar

So smile the heavens upon this holy act

That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!

Romeo

Amen, amen! But come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

That one short minute gives me in her sight

Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

Then love-devouring death do what he dare-

It is enough I may but call her mine

Friar

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite

Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow

Enter Juliet

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot

Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint

A lover may bestride the gossamer

That idles in the wanton summer air,

And yet not fall; so light is vanity

Juliet

Good even to my ghostly confessor

Friar

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both

Juliet

As much to him, else is his thanks too much

Romeo

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

Be heap’d like mine, and that thy skill be more

To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue

Unfold the imagin’d happiness that both

Receive in either by this dear encounter

Juliet

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,

Brags of his substance, not of ornament

They are but beggars that can count their worth;

But my true love is grown to such excess cannot sum up sum of half my wealth

Friar

Come, come with me, and we will make short work;

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone

Till Holy Church incorporate two in one

Exeunt

Act III

Scene I

A public place

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and Men

Benvolio

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad

And if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl,

For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring

Mercutio

Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says

‘God send me no need of thee!’ and by the operation of the second cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need

Benvolio

Am I like such a fellow?

Mercutio

Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved

Benvolio

And what to?

Mercutio

Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast

Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrell’d with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter, with another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Benvolio

An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee simple of my life for an hour and a quarter

Mercutio

The fee simple? O simple!

Enter Tybalt and others

Benvolio

By my head, here come the Capulets

Mercutio

By my heel, I care not

Tybalt

Follow me close, for I will speak to them

Gentlemen, good den. A word with one of you

Mercutio

And but one word with one of us?

Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow

Tybalt

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion

Mercutio

Could you not take some occasion without giving

Tybalt

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo

Mercutio

Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here’s my fiddlestick; here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!

Benvolio

We talk here in the public haunt of men

Either withdraw unto some private place

And reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us

Mercutio

Men’s eyes were made to look, and let them gaze

I will not budge for no man’s pleasure,

Enter Romeo

Tybalt

Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man

Mercutio

But I’ll be hang’d, sir, if he wear your livery

Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower!

Your worship in that sense may call him man

Tybalt

Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford

No better term than this: thou art a villain

Romeo

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

To such a greeting. Villain am I none

Therefore farewell. I see thou knowest me not

Tybalt

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw

Romeo

I do protest I never injur’d thee,

But love thee better than thou canst devise

Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;

And so good Capulet, which name I tender

As dearly as mine own, be satisfied

Mercutio

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!

Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.]

Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?

Tybalt

What wouldst thou have with me?

Mercutio

Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. That I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out

Tybalt

I am for you.[Draws.]

Romeo

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up

Mercutio

Come, sir, your passado! [They fight.]

Romeo

Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons

Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage!

Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath

Forbid this bandying in Verona streets

Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

Tybalt under Romeo’s arm thrusts Mercutio in, and flies

[with his Followers]

Mercutio

I am hurt

A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped

Is he gone and hath nothing?

Benvolio

What, art thou hurt?

Mercutio

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, ‘tis enough

Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon [Exit Page.]

Romeo

Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much

Mercutio

No, ‘tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but ‘tis enough, ‘twill serve. Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm

Romeo

I thought all for the best

Mercutio

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses!

They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it,

And soundly too. Your houses!

Exit supported by Benvolio

Romeo

This gentleman, the Prince’s near ally,

My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt

In my behalf- my reputation stain’d

With Tybalt’s slander- Tybalt, that an hour

Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet,

Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

And in my temper soft’ned valour’s steel

Enter Benvolio

Benvolio

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio’s dead!

That gallant spirit hath aspir’d the clouds,

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth

Romeo

This day’s black fate on moe days doth depend;

This but begins the woe others must end

Enter Tybalt

Benvolio

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again

Romeo

Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain?

Away to heaven respective lenity,

And fire-ey’d fury be my conduct now!

Now, Tybalt, take the ‘villain’ back again

That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio’s soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company

Either thou or I, or both, must go with him

Tybalt

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

Shalt with him hence

Romeo

This shall determine that

They fight. Tybalt falls

Benvolio

Romeo, away, be gone!

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain

Stand not amaz’d. The Prince will doom thee death

If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!

Romeo

O, I am fortune’s fool!

Benvolio

Why dost thou stay? [Exit Romeo]

Enter Citizens

Citizen

Which way ran he that kill’d Mercutio?

Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he?

Benvolio

There lies that Tybalt

Citizen

Up, sir, go with me

I charge thee in the Prince’s name obey

Enter Prince [attended], Old Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and [others]

Prince

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

Benvolio

O noble Prince. I can discover all

The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl

There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,

That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio

Capulet

Wife. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother’s child!

O Prince! O husband! O, the blood is spill’d

Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,

For blood of ours shed blood of Montague

O cousin, cousin!

Prince

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Benvolio

Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did stay

Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

How nice the quarrel was, and urg’d withal

Your high displeasure. All this- uttered

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow’d-

Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts

With piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast;

Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

Cold death aside and with the other sends

It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

Retorts it. Romeo he cries aloud,

‘Hold, friends! friends, part!’ and swifter than his tongue,

His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

And ‘twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;

But by-and-by comes back to Romeo,

Who had but newly entertain’d revenge,

And to’t they go like lightning; for, ere I

Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;

And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly

This is the truth, or let Benvolio die

Capulet

Wife. He is a kinsman to the Montague;

Affection makes him false, he speaks not true

Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

And all those twenty could but kill one life

I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give

Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live

Prince

Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio

Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

Montague

Not Romeo, Prince; he was Mercutio’s friend;

His fault concludes but what the law should end,

The life of Tybalt

Prince

And for that offence

Immediately we do exile him hence

I have an interest in your hate’s proceeding,

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;

But I’ll amerce you with so strong a fine

That you shall all repent the loss of mine

I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;

Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses

Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,

Else, when he is found, that hour is his last

Bear hence this body, and attend our will

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill

Exeunt

Scene II

Capulet’s orchard

Enter Juliet alone

Juliet

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Towards Phoebus’ lodging! Such a wagoner

As Phaeton would whip you to the West

And bring in cloudy night immediately

Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,

That runaway eyes may wink, and Romeo

Leap to these arms untalk’d of and unseen

Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,

It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match,

Play’d for a pair of stainless maidenhoods

Hood my unmann’d blood, bating in my cheeks,

With thy black mantle till strange love, grown bold,

Think true love acted simple modesty

Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow upon a raven’s back

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow’d night;

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun

O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

But not possess’d it; and though I am sold,

Not yet enjoy’d. So tedious is this day

As is the night before some festival

To an impatient child that hath new robes

And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

Enter Nurse, with cords

And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks

But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence

Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords

That Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurse

Ay, ay, the cords [Throws them down.]

Juliet

Ay me! what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands

Nurse

Ah, weraday! he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!

We are undone, lady, we are undone!

Alack the day! he’s gone, he’s kill’d, he’s dead!

Juliet

Can heaven be so envious?

Nurse

Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!

Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

Juliet

What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?

This torture should be roar’d in dismal hell

Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ‘I,’

And that bare vowel ‘I’ shall poison more

Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice

I am not I, if there be such an ‘I’;

Or those eyes shut that make thee answer ‘I.’

If be be slain, say ‘I’; or if not, ‘no.’

Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe

Nurse

I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,

(God save the mark!) here on his manly breast

A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub’d in blood,

All in gore-blood. I swounded at the sight

Juliet

O, break, my heart! poor bankrout, break at once!

To prison, eyes; ne’er look on liberty!

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,

And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse

O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman

That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Juliet

What storm is this that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaught’red, and is Tybalt dead?

My dear-lov’d cousin, and my dearer lord?

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!

For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse

Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;

Romeo that kill’d him, he is banished

Juliet

O God! Did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood?

Nurse

It did, it did! alas the day, it did!

Juliet

O serpent heart, hid with a flow’ring face!

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!

Dove-feather’d raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!

Despised substance of divinest show!

Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st-

A damned saint, an honourable villain!

O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell

When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?

Was ever book containing such vile matter

So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell

In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse

There’s no trust,

No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur’d,

All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers

Ah, where’s my man? Give me some aqua vitae

These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old

Shame come to Romeo!

Juliet

Blister’d be thy tongue

For such a wish! He was not born to shame

Upon his brow shame is asham’d to sit;

For ‘tis a throne where honour may be crown’d

Sole monarch of the universal earth

O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse

Will you speak well of him that kill’d your cousin?

Juliet

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name

When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?

But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?

That villain cousin would have kill’d my husband

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring!

Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;

And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband

All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?

Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death,

That murd’red me. I would forget it fain;

But O, it presses to my memory

Like damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds!

‘Tybalt is dead, and Romeo- banished.’

That ‘banished,’ that one word ‘banished,’

Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt’s death

Was woe enough, if it had ended there;

Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship

And needly will be rank’d with other griefs,

Why followed not, when she said ‘Tybalt’s dead,’

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,

Which modern lamentation might have mov’d?

But with a rearward following Tybalt’s death,

‘Romeo is banished’- to speak that word

Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

All slain, all dead. ‘Romeo is banished’-

There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,

In that word’s death; no words can that woe sound

Where is my father and my mother, nurse?

Nurse

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither

Juliet

Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment

Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguil’d,

Both you and I, for Romeo is exil’d

He made you for a highway to my bed;

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed

Come, cords; come, nurse. I’ll to my wedding bed;

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse

Hie to your chamber. I’ll find Romeo

To comfort you. I wot well where he is

Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night

I’ll to him; he is hid at Laurence’ cell

Juliet

O, find him! give this ring to my true knight

And bid him come to take his last farewell

Exeunt

Scene III

Friar Laurence’s cell

Enter Friar [Laurence]

Friar

Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man

Affliction is enanmour’d of thy parts,

And thou art wedded to calamity

Enter Romeo

Romeo

Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand

That I yet know not?

Friar

Too familiar

Is my dear son with such sour company

I bring thee tidings of the Prince’s doom

Romeo

What less than doomsday is the Prince’s doom?

Friar

A gentler judgment vanish’d from his lips-

Not body’s death, but body’s banishment

Romeo

Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say ‘death’;

For exile hath more terror in his look,

Much more than death. Do not say ‘banishment.’

Friar

Hence from Verona art thou banished

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide

Romeo

There is no world without Verona walls,

But purgatory, torture, hell itself

Hence banished is banish’d from the world,

And world’s exile is death. Then ‘banishment’

Is death misterm’d. Calling death ‘banishment,’

Thou cut’st my head off with a golden axe

And smilest upon the stroke that murders me

Friar

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!

Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince,

Taking thy part, hath rush’d aside the law,

And turn’d that black word death to banishment

This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not

Romeo

‘Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here,

Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog

And little mouse, every unworthy thing,

Live here in heaven and may look on her;

But Romeo may not. More validity,

More honourable state, more courtship lives

In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize

On the white wonder of dear Juliet’s hand

And steal immortal blessing from her lips,

Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,

Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;

But Romeo may not- he is banished

This may flies do, when I from this must fly;

They are free men, but I am banished

And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?

Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife,

No sudden mean of death, though ne’er so mean,

But ‘banished’ to kill me- ‘banished’?

O friar, the damned use that word in hell;

Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart,

Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,

A sin-absolver, and my friend profess’d,

To mangle me with that word ‘banished’?

Friar

Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak

Romeo

O, thou wilt speak again of banishment

Friar

I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word;

Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banished

Romeo

Yet ‘banished’? Hang up philosophy!

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,

Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom,

It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more

Friar

O, then I see that madmen have no ears

Romeo

How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

Friar

Let me dispute with thee of thy estate

Romeo

Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,

An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,

Doting like me, and like me banished,

Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave

Knock [within]

Friar

Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself

Romeo

Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,

Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.Knock

Friar

Hark, how they knock! Who’s there? Romeo, arise;

Thou wilt be taken.- Stay awhile!- Stand up;Knock

Run to my study.- By-and-by!- God’s will,

What simpleness is this.- I come, I come!Knock

Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What’s your will

Nurse

[within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand

I come from Lady Juliet

Friar

Welcome then

Enter Nurse

Nurse

O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar

Where is my lady’s lord, where’s Romeo?

Friar

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk

Nurse

O, he is even in my mistress’ case,

Just in her case!

Friar

O woeful sympathy!

Piteous predicament!

Nurse

Even so lies she,

Blubb’ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering

Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man

For Juliet’s sake, for her sake, rise and stand!

Why should you fall into so deep an O?

Romeo

[rises] Nurse-

Nurse

Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death’s the end of all

Romeo

Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?

Doth not she think me an old murtherer,

Now I have stain’d the childhood of our joy

With blood remov’d but little from her own?

Where is she? and how doth she! and what says

My conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?

Nurse

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;

And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,

And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,

And then down falls again

Romeo

As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

Did murther her; as that name’s cursed hand

Murder’d her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack

The hateful mansion.[Draws his dagger.]

Friar

Hold thy desperate hand

Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art;

Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote

The unreasonable fury of a beast

Unseemly woman in a seeming man!

Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!

Thou hast amaz’d me. By my holy order,

I thought thy disposition better temper’d

Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?

And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,

By doing damned hate upon thyself?

Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?

Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet

In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose

Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,

Which, like a usurer, abound’st in all,

And usest none in that true use indeed

Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit

Thy noble shape is but a form of wax

Digressing from the valour of a man;

Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,

Killing that love which thou hast vow’d to cherish;

Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,

Misshapen in the conduct of them both,

Like powder in a skilless soldier’s flask, is get afire by thine own ignorance,

And thou dismemb’red with thine own defence

What, rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,

For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead

There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,

But thou slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too

The law, that threat’ned death, becomes thy friend

And turns it to exile. There art thou happy

A pack of blessings light upon thy back;

Happiness courts thee in her best array;

But, like a misbhav’d and sullen wench,

Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love

Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable

Go get thee to thy love, as was decreed,

Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her

But look thou stay not till the watch be set,

For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,

Where thou shalt live till we can find a time

To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,

Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back

With twenty hundred thousand times more joy

Than thou went’st forth in lamentation

Go before, nurse. Commend me to thy lady,

And bid her hasten all the house to bed,

Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto

Romeo is coming

Nurse

O Lord, I could have stay’d here all the night

To hear good counsel. O, what learning is!

My lord, I’ll tell my lady you will come

Romeo

Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide

Nurse

Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir

Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.Exit

Romeo

How well my comfort is reviv’d by this!

Friar

Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:

Either be gone before the watch be set,

Or by the break of day disguis’d from hence

Sojourn in Mantua. I’ll find out your man,

And he shall signify from time to time

Every good hap to you that chances here

Give me thy hand. ‘Tis late. Farewell; good night

Romeo

But that a joy past joy calls out on me,

It were a grief so brief to part with thee

Farewell

Exeunt

Scene IV

Capulet’s house

Enter Old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris

Capulet

Things have fall’n out, sir, so unluckily

That we have had no time to move our daughter

Look you, she lov’d her kinsman Tybalt dearly,

And so did I. Well, we were born to die

‘Tis very late; she’ll not come down to-night

I promise you, but for your company,

I would have been abed an hour ago

Paris

These times of woe afford no tune to woo

Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter

Lady

I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;

To-night she’s mew’d up to her heaviness

Capulet

Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender

Of my child’s love. I think she will be rul’d

In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not

Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;

Acquaint her here of my son Paris’ love

And bid her (mark you me?) on Wednesday next-

But, soft! what day is this?

Paris

Monday, my lord

Capulet

Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon

Thursday let it be- a Thursday, tell her

She shall be married to this noble earl

Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?

We’ll keep no great ado- a friend or two;

For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,

It may be thought we held him carelessly,

Being our kinsman, if we revel much

Therefore we’ll have some half a dozen friends,

And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?

Paris

My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow

Capulet

Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then

Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed;

Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day

Farewell, My lord.- Light to my chamber, ho!

Afore me, It is so very very late

That we may call it early by-and-by

Good night

Exeunt

Scene V

Capulet’s orchard

Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft, at the Window

Juliet

Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierc’d the fearful hollow of thine ear

Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale

Romeo

It was the lark, the herald of the morn;

No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks

Do lace the severing clouds in yonder East

Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops

I must be gone and live, or stay and die

Juliet

Yond light is not daylight; I know it, I

It is some meteor that the sun exhales

To be to thee this night a torchbearer

And light thee on the way to Mantua

Therefore stay yet; thou need’st not to be gone

Romeo

Let me be ta’en, let me be put to death

I am content, so thou wilt have it so

I’ll say yon grey is not the morning’s eye,

‘Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia’s brow;

Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat

The vaulty heaven so high above our heads

I have more care to stay than will to go

Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so

How is’t, my soul? Let’s talk; it is not day

Juliet

It is, it is! Hie hence, be gone, away!

It is the lark that sings so out of tune,

Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps

Some say the lark makes sweet division;

This doth not so, for she divideth us

Some say the lark and loathed toad chang’d eyes;

O, now I would they had chang’d voices too,

Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,

Hunting thee hence with hunt’s-up to the day!

O, now be gone! More light and light it grows

Romeo

More light and light- more dark and dark our woes!

Enter Nurse

Nurse

Madam!

Juliet

Nurse?

Nurse

Your lady mother is coming to your chamber

The day is broke; be wary, look about

Juliet

Then, window, let day in, and let life out

Exit.

Romeo

Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I’ll descend

He goeth down

Juliet

Art thou gone so, my lord, my love, my friend?

I must hear from thee every day in the hour,

For in a minute there are many days

O, by this count I shall be much in years

Ere I again behold my Romeo!

Romeo

Farewell!

I will omit no opportunity

That may convey my greetings, love, to thee

Juliet

O, think’st thou we shall ever meet again?

Romeo

I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourses in our time to come

Juliet

O God, I have an ill-divining soul!

Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,

As one dead in the bottom of a tomb

Either my eyesight fails, or thou look’st pale

Romeo

And trust me, love, in my eye so do you

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

Exit

Juliet

O Fortune, Fortune! all men call thee fickle

If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him

That is renown’d for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,

For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long

But send him back

Lady

[within] Ho, daughter! are you up?

Juliet

Who is’t that calls? It is my lady mother

Is she not down so late, or up so early?

What unaccustom’d cause procures her hither?

Enter Mother

Lady

Why, how now, Juliet?

Juliet

Madam, I am not well

Lady

Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death?

What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?

An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live

Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love;

But much of grief shows still some want of wit

Juliet

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss

Lady

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend

Which you weep for

Juliet

Feeling so the loss,

I cannot choose but ever weep the friend

Lady

Well, girl, thou weep’st not so much for his death

As that the villain lives which slaughter’d him

Juliet

What villain, madam?

Lady

That same villain Romeo

Juliet

[aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-

God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;

And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart

Lady

That is because the traitor murderer lives

Juliet

Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands

Would none but I might venge my cousin’s death!

Lady

We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not

Then weep no more. I’ll send to one in Mantua,

Where that same banish’d runagate doth live,

Shall give him such an unaccustom’d dram

That he shall soon keep Tybalt company;

And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied

Juliet

Indeed I never shall be satisfied

With Romeo till I behold him- dead-

Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex’d

Madam, if you could find out but a man

To bear a poison, I would temper it;

That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,

Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors

To hear him nam’d and cannot come to him,

To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt

Upon his body that hath slaughter’d him!

Lady

Find thou the means, and I’ll find such a man

But now I’ll tell thee joyful tidings, girl

Juliet

And joy comes well in such a needy time

What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

Lady

Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;

One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,

Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy

That thou expects not nor I look’d not for

Juliet

Madam, in happy time! What day is that?

Lady

Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn

The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,

The County Paris, at Saint Peter’s Church,

Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride

Juliet

Now by Saint Peter’s Church, and Peter too,

He shall not make me there a joyful bride!

I wonder at this haste, that I must wed

Ere he that should be husband comes to woo

I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,

I will not marry yet; and when I do, I swear

It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,

Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!

Lady

Here comes your father. Tell him so yourself,

And see how be will take it at your hands

Enter Capulet and Nurse

Capulet

When the sun sets the air doth drizzle dew,

But for the sunset of my brother’s son

It rains downright

How now? a conduit, girl? What, still in tears?

Evermore show’ring? In one little body

Thou counterfeit’st a bark, a sea, a wind:

For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,

Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is

Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs,

Who, raging with thy tears and they with them,

Without a sudden calm will overset

Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife?

Have you delivered to her our decree?

Lady

Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks

I would the fool were married to her grave!

Capulet

Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife

How? Will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?

Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blest,

Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought

So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

Juliet

Not proud you have, but thankful that you have

Proud can I never be of what I hate,

But thankful even for hate that is meant love

Capulet

How, how, how, how, choplogic? What is this?

‘Proud’- and ‘I thank you’- and ‘I thank you not’-

And yet ‘not proud’? Mistress minion you,

Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,

But fettle your fine joints ‘gainst Thursday next

To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church,

Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither

Out, you green-sickness carrion I out, you baggage!

You tallow-face!

Lady

Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

Juliet

Good father, I beseech you on my knees,

Hear me with patience but to speak a word

Capulet

Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!

I tell thee what- get thee to church a Thursday

Or never after look me in the face

Speak not, reply not, do not answer me!

My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest

That God had lent us but this only child;

But now I see this one is one too much,

And that we have a curse in having her

Out on her, hilding!

Nurse

God in heaven bless her!

You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so

Capulet

And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,

Good Prudence. Smatter with your gossips, go!

Nurse

I speak no treason

Capulet

O, God-i-god-en!

Nurse

May not one speak?

Capulet

Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o’er a gossip’s bowl,

For here we need it not

Lady

You are too hot

Capulet

God’s bread I it makes me mad. Day, night, late, early,

At home, abroad, alone, in company,

Waking or sleeping, still my care hath been

To have her match’d; and having now provided

A gentleman of princely parentage,

Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train’d,

Stuff’d, as they say, with honourable parts,

Proportion’d as one’s thought would wish a man-

And then to have a wretched puling fool,

A whining mammet, in her fortune’s tender,

To answer ‘I’ll not wed, I cannot love;

I am too young, I pray you pardon me’!

But, an you will not wed, I’ll pardon you

Graze where you will, you shall not house with me

Look to’t, think on’t; I do not use to jest

Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:

An you be mine, I’ll give you to my friend;

An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets,

For, by my soul, I’ll ne’er acknowledge thee,

Nor what is mine shall never do thee good

Trust to’t. Bethink you. I’ll not be forsworn.Exit

Juliet

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds

That sees into the bottom of my grief?

O sweet my mother, cast me not away!

Delay this marriage for a month, a week;

Or if you do not, make the bridal bed

In that dim monument where Tybalt lies

Lady

Talk not to me, for I’ll not speak a word

Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.Exit

Juliet

O God!- O nurse, how shall this be prevented?

My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven

How shall that faith return again to earth

Unless that husband send it me from heaven

By leaving earth? Comfort me, counsel me

Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems

Upon so soft a subject as myself!

What say’st thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?

Some comfort, nurse

Nurse

Faith, here it is

Romeo is banish’d; and all the world to nothing

That he dares ne’er come back to challenge you;

Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth

Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,

I think it best you married with the County

O, he’s a lovely gentleman!

Romeo’s a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,

Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye

As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,

I think you are happy in this second match,

For it excels your first; or if it did not,

Your first is dead- or ‘twere as good he were

As living here and you no use of him

Juliet

Speak’st thou this from thy heart?

Nurse

And from my soul too; else beshrew them both

Juliet

Amen!

Nurse

What?

Juliet

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much

Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,

Having displeas’d my father, to Laurence’ cell,

To make confession and to be absolv’d

Nurse

Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

Exit

Juliet

Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!

Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,

Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue

Which she hath prais’d him with above compare

So many thousand times? Go, counsellor!

Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain

I’ll to the friar to know his remedy

If all else fail, myself have power to die.

Exit

Act IV

Scene I

Friar Laurence’s cell

Enter Friar, [Laurence] and County Paris

Friar

On Thursday, sir? The time is very short

Paris

My father Capulet will have it so,

And I am nothing slow to slack his haste

Friar

You say you do not know the lady’s mind

Uneven is the course; I like it not

Paris

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death,

And therefore have I little talk’d of love;

For Venus smiles not in a house of tears

Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous

That she do give her sorrow so much sway,

And in his wisdom hastes our marriage

To stop the inundation of her tears,

Which, too much minded by herself alone,

May be put from her by society

Now do you know the reason of this haste

Friar

[aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow’d.-

Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell

Enter Juliet

Paris

Happily met, my lady and my wife!

Juliet

That may be, sir, when I may be a wife

Paris

That may be must be, love, on Thursday next

Juliet

What must be shall be

Friar

That’s a certain text

Paris

Come you to make confession to this father?

Juliet

To answer that, I should confess to you

Paris

Do not deny to him that you love me

Juliet

I will confess to you that I love him

Paris

So will ye, I am sure, that you love me

Juliet

If I do so, it will be of more price,

Being spoke behind your back, than to your face

Paris

Poor soul, thy face is much abus’d with tears

Juliet

The tears have got small victory by that,

For it was bad enough before their spite

Paris

Thou wrong’st it more than tears with that report

Juliet

That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;

And what I spake, I spake it to my face

Paris

Thy face is mine, and thou hast sland’red it

Juliet

It may be so, for it is not mine own

Are you at leisure, holy father, now,

Or shall I come to you at evening mass

Friar

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now

My lord, we must entreat the time alone

Paris

God shield I should disturb devotion!

Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye

Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss.Exit

Juliet

O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,

Come weep with me- past hope, past cure, past help!

Friar

Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;

It strains me past the compass of my wits

I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,

On Thursday next be married to this County

Juliet

Tell me not, friar, that thou hear’st of this,

Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it

If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,

Do thou but call my resolution wise

And with this knife I’ll help it presently

God join’d my heart and Romeo’s, thou our hands;

And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo’s seal’d,

Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt

Turn to another, this shall slay them both

Therefore, out of thy long-experienc’d time,

Give me some present counsel; or, behold,

‘Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife

Shall play the empire, arbitrating that

Which the commission of thy years and art

Could to no issue of true honour bring

Be not so long to speak. I long to die

If what thou speak’st speak not of remedy

Friar

Hold, daughter. I do spy a kind of hope,

Which craves as desperate an execution

As that is desperate which we would prevent

If, rather than to marry County Paris

Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,

Then is it likely thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this shame,

That cop’st with death himself to scape from it;

And, if thou dar’st, I’ll give thee remedy

Juliet

O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,

From off the battlements of yonder tower,

Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk

Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears,

Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,

O’ercover’d quite with dead men’s rattling bones,

With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;

Or bid me go into a new-made grave

And hide me with a dead man in his shroud-

Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble-

And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unstain’d wife to my sweet love

Friar

Hold, then. Go home, be merry, give consent

To marry Paris. Wednesday is to-morrow

To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;

Let not the nurse lie with thee in thy chamber

Take thou this vial, being then in bed,

And this distilled liquor drink thou off;

When presently through all thy veins shall run

A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse

Shall keep his native progress, but surcease;

No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade

To paly ashes, thy eyes’ windows fall

Like death when he shuts up the day of life;

Each part, depriv’d of supple government,

Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;

And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death

Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours,

And then awake as from a pleasant sleep

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes

To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead

Then, as the manner of our country is,

In thy best robes uncovered on the bier

Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault

Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie

In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,

Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;

And hither shall he come; and he and I

Will watch thy waking, and that very night

Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua

And this shall free thee from this present shame,

If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear

Abate thy valour in the acting it

Juliet

Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!

Friar

Hold! Get you gone, be strong and prosperous

In this resolve. I’ll send a friar with speed

To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord

Juliet

Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford

Farewell, dear father

Exeunt

Scene II

Capulet’s house

Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Servingmen, two or three

Capulet

So many guests invite as here are writ

[Exit a Servingman.]

Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks

Servant

You shall have none ill, sir; for I’ll try if they can lick their fingers

Capulet

How canst thou try them so?

Servant

Marry, sir, ‘tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers. Therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me

Capulet

Go, begone

[Exit Servingman]

We shall be much unfurnish’d for this time

What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?

Nurse

Ay, forsooth

Capulet

Well, be may chance to do some good on her

A peevish self-will’d harlotry it is

Enter Juliet

Nurse

See where she comes from shrift with merry look

Capulet

How now, my headstrong? Where have you been gadding?

Juliet

Where I have learnt me to repent the sin

Of disobedient opposition

To you and your behests, and am enjoin’d

By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here

To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you!

Henceforward I am ever rul’d by you

Capulet

Send for the County. Go tell him of this

I’ll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning

Juliet

I met the youthful lord at Laurence’ cell

And gave him what becomed love I might,

Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty

Capulet

Why, I am glad on’t. This is well. Stand up

This is as’t should be. Let me see the County

Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither

Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,

All our whole city is much bound to him

Juliet

Nurse, will you go with me into my closet

To help me sort such needful ornaments

As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?

Mother

No, not till Thursday. There is time enough

Capulet

Go, nurse, go with her. We’ll to church to-morrow

Exeunt [Juliet and Nurse].

Mother

We shall be short in our provision

‘Tis now near night

Capulet

Tush, I will stir about,

And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife

Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her

I’ll not to bed to-night; let me alone

I’ll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!

They are all forth; well, I will walk myself

To County Paris, to prepare him up

Against to-morrow. My heart is wondrous light,

Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim’d

Exeunt

Scene III

Juliet’s chamber

Enter Juliet and Nurse

Juliet

Ay, those attires are best; but, gentle nurse,

I pray thee leave me to myself to-night;

For I have need of many orisons

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,

Which, well thou knowest, is cross and full of sin

Enter Mother

Mother

What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help?

Juliet

No, madam; we have cull’d such necessaries

As are behooffull for our state to-morrow

So please you, let me now be left alone,

And let the nurse this night sit up with you;

For I am sure you have your hands full all

In this so sudden business

Mother

Good night

Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need

Exeunt [Mother and Nurse.]

Juliet

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins

That almost freezes up the heat of life

I’ll call them back again to comfort me

Nurse!- What should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone

Come, vial

What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?

No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there

Lays down a dagger

What if it be a poison which the friar

Subtilly hath minist’red to have me dead,

Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour’d

Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is; and yet methinks it should not,

For he hath still been tried a holy man

I will not entertain so bad a thought

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeem me? There’s a fearful point!

Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,

And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like

The horrible conceit of death and night,

Together with the terror of the place-

As in a vault, an ancient receptacle

Where for this many hundred years the bones

Of all my buried ancestors are pack’d;

Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,

Lies fest’ring in his shroud; where, as they say,

At some hours in the night spirits resort-

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

So early waking- what with loathsome smells,

And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,

That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

Environed with all these hideous fears,

And madly play with my forefathers’ joints,

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud.,

And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone

As with a club dash out my desp’rate brains?

O, look! methinks I see my cousin’s ghost

Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body

Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!

Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee

[She drinks and falls upon her bed within the curtains.]

Scene IV

Capulet’s house

Enter Lady of the House and Nurse

Lady

Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, nurse

Nurse

They call for dates and quinces in the pastry

Enter Old Capulet

Capulet

Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crow’d,

The curfew bell hath rung, ‘tis three o’clock

Look to the bak’d meats, good Angelica;

Spare not for cost

Nurse

Go, you cot-quean, go,

Get you to bed! Faith, you’ll be sick to-morrow

For this night’s watching

Capulet

No, not a whit. What, I have watch’d ere now

All night for lesser cause, and ne’er been sick

Lady

Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;

But I will watch you from such watching now

Exeunt [Lady and Nurse.]

Capulet

A jealous hood, a jealous hood!

Enter three or four [Fellows, with spits and logs and baskets

What is there? Now, fellow,

Fellow

Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what

Capulet

Make haste, make haste. [Exit Fellow.] Sirrah, fetch drier logs

Call Peter; he will show thee where they are

Fellow

I have a head, sir, that will find out logs

And never trouble Peter for the matter

Capulet

Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!

Thou shalt be loggerhead. [Exit Fellow.] Good faith, ‘tis day

The County will be here with music straight,

For so he said he would.Play music

I hear him near

Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!

Enter Nurse

Go waken Juliet; go and trim her up

I’ll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,

Make haste! The bridegroom he is come already:

Make haste, I say

[Exeunt.]

Scene V

Juliet’s chamber

Enter Nurse

Nurse

Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she

Why, lamb! why, lady! Fie, you slug-abed!

Why, love, I say! madam! sweetheart! Why, bride!

What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now!

Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,

The County Paris hath set up his rest

That you shall rest but little. God forgive me!

Marry, and amen. How sound is she asleep!

I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!

Ay, let the County take you in your bed!

He’ll fright you up, i’ faith. Will it not be?

[Draws aside the curtains.]

What, dress’d, and in your clothes, and down again?

I must needs wake you. Lady! lady! lady!

Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady’s dead!

O weraday that ever I was born!

Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!

Enter Mother

Mother

What noise is here?

Nurse

O lamentable day!

Mother

What is the matter?

Nurse

Look, look! O heavy day!

Mother

O me, O me! My child, my only life!

Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!

Help, help! Call help

Enter Father

Father

For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come

Nurse

She’s dead, deceas’d; she’s dead! Alack the day!

Mother

Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

Capulet

Ha! let me see her. Out alas! she’s cold,

Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;

Life and these lips have long been separated

Death lies on her like an untimely frost

Upon the sweetest flower of all the field

Nurse

O lamentable day!

Mother

O woful time!

Capulet

Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,

Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak

Enter Friar [Laurence] and the County [Paris], with Musicians

Friar

Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

Capulet

Ready to go, but never to return

O son, the night before thy wedding day

Hath Death lain with thy wife. See, there she lies,

Flower as she was, deflowered by him

Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;

My daughter he hath wedded. I will die

And leave him all. Life, living, all is Death’s

Paris

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,

And doth it give me such a sight as this?

Mother

Accurs’d, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!

Most miserable hour that e’er time saw

In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,

But one thing to rejoice and solace in,

And cruel Death hath catch’d it from my sight!

Nurse

O woe? O woful, woful, woful day!

Most lamentable day, most woful day

That ever ever I did yet behold!

O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!

Never was seen so black a day as this

O woful day! O woful day!

Paris

Beguil’d, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!

Most detestable Death, by thee beguil’d,

By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!

O love! O life! not life, but love in death

Capulet

Despis’d, distressed, hated, martyr’d, kill’d!

Uncomfortable time, why cam’st thou now

To murther, murther our solemnity?

O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!

Dead art thou, dead! alack, my child is dead,

And with my child my joys are buried!

Friar

Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion’s cure lives not

In these confusions. Heaven and yourself

Had part in this fair maid! now heaven hath all,

And all the better is it for the maid

Your part in her you could not keep from death,

But heaven keeps his part in eternal life

The most you sought was her promotion,

For ‘twas your heaven she should be advanc’d;

And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc’d

Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?

O, in this love, you love your child so ill

That you run mad, seeing that she is well

She’s not well married that lives married long,

But she’s best married that dies married young

Dry up your tears and stick your rosemary

On this fair corse, and, as the custom is,

In all her best array bear her to church;

For though fond nature bids us all lament,

Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment

Capulet

All things that we ordained festival

Turn from their office to black funeral-

Our instruments to melancholy bells,

Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast;

Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;

Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse;

And all things change them to the contrary

Friar

Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;

And go, Sir Paris. Every one prepare

To follow this fair corse unto her grave

The heavens do low’r upon you for some ill;

Move them no more by crossing their high will

Exeunt. Manent Musicians [and Nurse]

MUSICAN I

Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone

Nurse

Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up!

For well you know this is a pitiful case.

Exit

MUSICAN I

Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended

Enter Peter

Peter

Musicians, O, musicians, ‘Heart’s ease,’ ‘Heart’s ease’!

O, an you will have me live, play ‘Heart’s ease.’

MUSICAN I

Why ‘Heart’s ease’’,

Peter

O, musicians, because my heart itself plays ‘My heart is full of woe.’ O, play me some merry dump to comfort me

MUSICAN I

Not a dump we! ‘Tis no time to play now

Peter

You will not then?

MUSICAN I

No

Peter

I will then give it you soundly

MUSICAN I

What will you give us?

Peter

No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the

minstrel

MUSICAN I

Then will I give you the serving-creature

Peter

Then will I lay the serving-creature’s dagger on your pate

I will carry no crotchets. I’ll re you, I’ll fa you. Do you note me?

MUSICAN I

An you re us and fa us, you note us

MUSICAN II

Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit

Peter

Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men

‘When griping grief the heart doth wound,

And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then music with her silver sound’-

Why ‘silver sound’? Why ‘music with her silver sound’?

What say you, Simon Catling?

MUSICAN I

Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound

Peter

Pretty! What say You, Hugh Rebeck?

MUSICAN II

I say ‘silver sound’ because musicians sound for silver

Peter

Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?

MUSICAN III:

Faith, I know not what to say

Peter

O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer. I will say for you. It is ‘music with her silver sound’ because musicians have no gold for sounding

‘Then music with her silver sound

With speedy help doth lend redress.’ [Exit]

MUSICAN I

What a pestilent knave is this same?

MUSICAN II

Hang him, Jack! Come, we’ll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner

Exeunt

Act V

Scene I

Mantua. A street

Enter Romeo

Romeo

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep

My dreams presage some joyful news at hand

My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne,

And all this day an unaccustom’d spirit

Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts

I dreamt my lady came and found me dead

(Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!)

And breath’d such life with kisses in my lips

That I reviv’d and was an emperor

Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess’d,

When but love’s shadows are so rich in joy!

Enter Romeo’s Man Balthasar, booted

News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?

Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?

How doth my lady? Is my father well?

How fares my Juliet? That I ask again,

For nothing can be ill if she be well

Balthasar

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill

Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument,

And her immortal part with angels lives

I saw her laid low in her kindred’s vault

And presently took post to tell it you

O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,

Since you did leave it for my office, sir

Romeo

Is it e’en so? Then I defy you, stars!

Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper

And hire posthorses. I will hence to-night

Balthasar

I do beseech you, sir, have patience

Your looks are pale and wild and do import

Some misadventure

Romeo

Tush, thou art deceiv’d

Leave me and do the thing I bid thee do

Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

Balthasar

No, my good lord

Romeo

No matter. Get thee gone

And hire those horses. I’ll be with thee straight

[Exit Balthasar]

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night

Let’s see for means. O mischief, thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

I do remember an apothecary,

And hereabouts ‘a dwells, which late I noted

In tatt’red weeds, with overwhelming brows,

Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks,

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;

And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,

An alligator stuff’d, and other skins

Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves

A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,

Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses

Were thinly scattered, to make up a show

Noting this penury, to myself I said,

‘An if a man did need a poison now

Whose sale is present death in Mantua,

Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.’

O, this same thought did but forerun my need,

And this same needy man must sell it me

As I remember, this should be the house

Being holiday, the beggar’s shop is shut. What, ho! apothecary!

Enter Apothecary

Apothecary

Who calls so loud?

Romeo

Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have

A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear

As will disperse itself through all the veins

That the life-weary taker mall fall dead,

And that the trunk may be discharg’d of breath

As violently as hasty powder fir’d

Doth hurry from the fatal cannon’s womb

Apothecary

Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s law

Is death to any he that utters them

Romeo

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness

And fearest to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,

Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,

Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back:

The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law;

The world affords no law to make thee rich;

Then be not poor, but break it and take this

Apothecary

My poverty but not my will consents

Romeo

I pay thy poverty and not thy will

Apothecary

Put this in any liquid thing you will

And drink it off, and if you had the strength

Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight

Romeo

There is thy gold- worse poison to men’s souls,

Doing more murther in this loathsome world,

Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell

I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none

Farewell. Buy food and get thyself in flesh

Come, cordial and not poison, go with me

To Juliet’s grave; for there must I use thee

Exeunt

Scene II

Verona. Friar Laurence’s cell

Enter Friar John to Friar Laurence

John

Holy Franciscan friar, brother, ho!

Enter Friar Laurence

Laurence

This same should be the voice of Friar John

Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo?

Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter

John

Going to find a barefoot brother out,

One of our order, to associate me

Here in this city visiting the sick,

And finding him, the searchers of the town,

Suspecting that we both were in a house

Where the infectious pestilence did reign,

Seal’d up the doors, and would not let us forth,

So that my speed to Mantua there was stay’d

Laurence

Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?

John

I could not send it- here it is again-

Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,

So fearful were they of infection

Laurence

Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood,

The letter was not nice, but full of charge,

Of dear import; and the neglecting it

May do much danger. Friar John, go hence,

Get me an iron crow and bring it straight

Unto my cell

John

Brother, I’ll go and bring it thee.

Exit

Laurence

Now, must I to the monument alone

Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake

She will beshrew me much that Romeo

Hath had no notice of these accidents;

But I will write again to Mantua,

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come-

Poor living corse, clos’d in a dead man’s tomb!Exit

Scene III

Verona. A churchyard; in it the monument of the Capulets

Enter Paris and his Page with flowers and [a torch]

Paris

Give me thy torch, boy. Hence, and stand aloof

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen

Under yond yew tree lay thee all along,

Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground

So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread

(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves)

But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me,

As signal that thou hear’st something approach

Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go

Page

[aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.[Retires.]

Paris

Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew

(O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones)

Which with sweet water nightly I will dew;

Or, wanting that, with tears distill’d by moans

The obsequies that I for thee will keep

Nightly shall be to strew, thy grave and weep

Whistle Boy

The boy gives warning something doth approach

What cursed foot wanders this way to-night

To cross my obsequies and true love’s rite?

What, with a torch? Muffle me, night, awhile.[Retires.]

Enter Romeo, and Balthasar with a torch, a mattock, and a crow of iron

Romeo

Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron

Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning

See thou deliver it to my lord and father

Give me the light. Upon thy life I charge thee,

Whate’er thou hearest or seest, stand all aloof

And do not interrupt me in my course

Why I descend into this bed of death

Is partly to behold my lady’s face,

But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger

A precious ring- a ring that I must use

In dear employment. Therefore hence, be gone

But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry

In what I farther shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint

And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs

The time and my intents are savage-wild,

More fierce and more inexorable far

Than empty tigers or the roaring sea

Balthasar

I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you

Romeo

So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that

Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow

Balthasar

[aside] For all this same, I’ll hide me hereabout

His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.[Retires.]

Romeo

Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,

Gorg’d with the dearest morsel of the earth,

Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,

And in despite I’ll cram thee with more food

Romeo opens the tomb

Paris

This is that banish’d haughty Montague

That murd’red my love’s cousin- with which grief

It is supposed the fair creature died-

And here is come to do some villanous shame

To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him

Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague!

Can vengeance be pursu’d further than death?

Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee

Obey, and go with me; for thou must die

Romeo

I must indeed; and therefore came I hither

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp’rate man

Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone;

Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,

But not another sin upon my head

By urging me to fury. O, be gone!

By heaven, I love thee better than myself,

For I come hither arm’d against myself

Stay not, be gone. Live, and hereafter say

A madman’s mercy bid thee run away

Paris

I do defy thy, conjuration

And apprehend thee for a felon here

Romeo

Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!

They fight

Page

O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch

[Exit. Paris falls.]

Paris

O, I am slain! If thou be merciful,

Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.[Dies.]

Romeo

In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face

Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris!

What said my man when my betossed soul

Did not attend him as we rode? I think

He told me Paris should have married Juliet

Said he not so? or did I dream it so?

Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet

To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,

One writ with me in sour misfortune’s book!

I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave

A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught’red youth,

For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes

This vault a feasting presence full of light

Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d

[Lays him in the tomb.]

How oft when men are at the point of death

Have they been merry! which their keepers call

A lightning before death. O, how may I

Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!

Death, that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath,

Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty

Thou art not conquer’d. Beauty’s ensign yet

Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,

And death’s pale flag is not advanced there

Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?

O, what more favour can I do to thee

Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain

To sunder his that was thine enemy?

Forgive me, cousin.’ Ah, dear Juliet,

Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe

That unsubstantial Death is amorous,

And that the lean abhorred monster keeps

Thee here in dark to be his paramour?

For fear of that I still will stay with thee

And never from this palace of dim night

Depart again. Here, here will I remain

With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here

Will I set up my everlasting rest

And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars

From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!

Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

Come, bitter conduct; come, unsavoury guide!

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark!

Here’s to my love! [Drinks.] O true apothecary!

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.Falls

Enter Friar [Laurence], with lanthorn, crow, and spade

Friar

Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night

Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who’s there?

Balthasar

Here’s one, a friend, and one that knows you well

Friar

Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,

What torch is yond that vainly lends his light

To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern,

It burneth in the Capels’ monument

Balthasar

It doth so, holy sir; and there’s my master,

One that you love

Friar

Who is it?

Balthasar

Romeo

Friar

How long hath he been there?

Balthasar

Full half an hour

Friar

Go with me to the vault

Balthasar

I dare not, sir

My master knows not but I am gone hence,

And fearfully did menace me with death

If I did stay to look on his intents

Friar

Stay then; I’ll go alone. Fear comes upon me

O, much I fear some ill unthrifty thing

Balthasar

As I did sleep under this yew tree here,

I dreamt my master and another fought,

And that my master slew him

Friar

Romeo!

Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains

The stony entrance of this sepulchre?

What mean these masterless and gory swords

To lie discolour’d by this place of peace? [Enters the tomb.]

Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too?

And steep’d in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance! The lady stirs

Juliet rises

Juliet

O comfortable friar! where is my lord?

I do remember well where I should be,

And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Friar

I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest

Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep

A greater power than we can contradict

Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away

Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;

And Paris too. Come, I’ll dispose of thee

Among a sisterhood of holy nuns

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming

Come, go, good Juliet. I dare no longer stay

Juliet

Go, get thee hence, for I will not away

Exit [Friar]

What’s here? A cup, clos’d in my true love’s hand?

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end

O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after? I will kiss thy lips

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them

To make me die with a restorative.[Kisses him.]

Thy lips are warm!

WATCH I

[within] Lead, boy. Which way?

Yea, noise? Then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!

[Snatches Romeo’s dagger.]

This is thy sheath; there rest, and let me die

She stabs herself and falls [on Romeo’s body]

Enter [Paris’s] Boy and Watch

Boy

This is the place. There, where the torch doth burn

WATCH I

‘the ground is bloody. Search about the churchyard

Go, some of you; whoe’er you find attach

[Exeunt some of the Watch.]

Pitiful sight! here lies the County slain;

And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,

Who here hath lain this two days buried

Go, tell the Prince; run to the Capulets;

Raise up the Montagues; some others search

[Exeunt others of the Watch.]

We see the ground whereon these woes do lie,

But the true ground of all these piteous woes

We cannot without circumstance descry

Enter [some of the Watch,] with Romeo’s Man [Balthasar]

WATCH II

Here’s Romeo’s man. We found him in the churchyard

WATCH I

Hold him in safety till the Prince come hither

Enter Friar [Laurence] and another Watchman

Third Watch. Here is a friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps

We took this mattock and this spade from him

As he was coming from this churchyard side

WATCH I

A great suspicion! Stay the friar too

Enter the Prince [and Attendants]

Prince

What misadventure is so early up,

That calls our person from our morning rest?

Enter Capulet and his Wife [with others]

Capulet

What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?

Wife

The people in the street cry ‘Romeo,’

Some ‘Juliet,’ and some ‘Paris’; and all run,

With open outcry, toward our monument

Prince

What fear is this which startles in our ears?

WATCH I

Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;

And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,

Warm and new kill’d

Prince

Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes

WATCH I

Here is a friar, and slaughter’d Romeo’s man,

With instruments upon them fit to open

These dead men’s tombs

Capulet

O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!

This dagger hath mista’en, for, lo, his house

Is empty on the back of Montague,

And it missheathed in my daughter’s bosom!

Wife

O me! this sight of death is as a bell

That warns my old age to a sepulchre

Enter Montague [and others]

Prince

Come, Montague; for thou art early up

To see thy son and heir more early down

Montague

Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night!

Grief of my son’s exile hath stopp’d her breath

What further woe conspires against mine age?

Prince

Look, and thou shalt see

Montague

O thou untaught! what manners is in this,

To press before thy father to a grave?

Prince

Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,

Till we can clear these ambiguities

And know their spring, their head, their true descent;

And then will I be general of your woes

And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear,

And let mischance be slave to patience

Bring forth the parties of suspicion

Friar

I am the greatest, able to do least,

Yet most suspected, as the time and place

Doth make against me, of this direful murther;

And here I stand, both to impeach and purge

Myself condemned and myself excus’d

Prince

Then say it once what thou dost know in this

Friar

I will be brief, for my short date of breath

Is not so long as is a tedious tale

Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;

And she, there dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife

I married them; and their stol’n marriage day

Was Tybalt’s doomsday, whose untimely death

Banish’d the new-made bridegroom from this city;

For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin’d

You, to remove that siege of grief from her,

Betroth’d and would have married her perforce

To County Paris. Then comes she to me

And with wild looks bid me devise some mean

To rid her from this second marriage,

Or in my cell there would she kill herself

Then gave I her (so tutored by my art)

A sleeping potion; which so took effect

As I intended, for it wrought on her

The form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo

That he should hither come as this dire night

To help to take her from her borrowed grave,

Being the time the potion’s force should cease

But he which bore my letter, Friar John,

Was stay’d by accident, and yesternight

Return’d my letter back. Then all alone

At the prefixed hour of her waking

Came I to take her from her kindred’s vault;

Meaning to keep her closely at my cell

Till I conveniently could send to Romeo

But when I came, some minute ere the time

Of her awaking, here untimely lay

The noble Paris and true Romeo dead

She wakes; and I entreated her come forth

And bear this work of heaven with patience;

But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,

And she, too desperate, would not go with me,

But, as it seems, did violence on herself

All this I know, and to the marriage

Her nurse is privy; and if aught in this

Miscarried by my fault, let my old life

Be sacrific’d, some hour before his time,

Unto the rigour of severest law

Prince

We still have known thee for a holy man

Where’s Romeo’s man? What can he say in this?

Balthasar

I brought my master news of Juliet’s death;

And then in post he came from Mantua

To this same place, to this same monument

This letter he early bid me give his father,

And threat’ned me with death, going in the vault,

If I departed not and left him there

Prince

Give me the letter. I will look on it

Where is the County’s page that rais’d the watch?

Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

Boy

He came with flowers to strew his lady’s grave;

And bid me stand aloof, and so I did

Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;

And by-and-by my master drew on him;

And then I ran away to call the watch

Prince

This letter doth make good the friar’s words,

Their course of love, the tidings of her death;

And here he writes that he did buy a poison

Of a poor pothecary, and therewithal

Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet

Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montage,

See what a scourge is laid upon your hate,

That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love!

And I, for winking at you, discords too,

Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish’d

Capulet

O brother Montague, give me thy hand

This is my daughter’s jointure, for no more

Can I demand

Montague

But I can give thee more;

For I will raise her Statue in pure gold,

That whiles Verona by that name is known,

There shall no figure at such rate be set

As that of true and faithful Juliet

Capulet

As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie-

Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

Prince

A glooming peace this morning with it brings

The sun for sorrow will not show his head

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished;

For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo

Exeunt omnes

-The end-