diff options
Diffstat (limited to '2261-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2261-0.txt | 4050 |
1 files changed, 4050 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2261-0.txt b/2261-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..24a1cb6 --- /dev/null +++ b/2261-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4050 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2261 *** + + +Executive Director's Notes: + +In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all +the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have +been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they +are presented herein: + + Barnardo. Who's there? + Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold +your selfe + + Bar. Long liue the King + + * * * * * + +As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words +or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the +original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling +to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions +that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, +above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming +Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . . + +The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a +time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in +place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, +as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend +more on a wider selection of characters than they had to. + +You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I +have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an +extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a +very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an +assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University +in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the +purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available +. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, +that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a +variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous +for signing his name with several different spellings. + +So, please take this into account when reading the comments below +made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors +that are "not" errors. . . . + +So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, +here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's The first +Part of Henry the Sixt. + +Michael S. Hart +Project Gutenberg +Executive Director + + * * * * * + +Scanner's Notes: + +What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of +Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in +ASCII to the printed text. + +The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the +conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, +punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed +text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put +together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of +the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified +spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded +abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within +brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you +can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer +Shakespeare. + +Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are +textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So +there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) +between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the +printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of +copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type +and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown +away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the +way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 +different First Folio editions' best pages. + +David Reed + +===================================================================== + + + + +The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet + + +Actus Primus. Scoena Prima. + +Enter Sampson and Gregory, with Swords and Bucklers, of the +House of +Capulet. + + Sampson. Gregory: A my word wee'l not carry coales + + Greg. No, for then we should be Colliars + + Samp. I mean, if we be in choller, wee'l draw + + Greg. I, While you liue, draw your necke out +o'th Collar + + Samp. I strike quickly, being mou'd + + Greg. But thou art not quickly mou'd to strike + + Samp. A dog of the house of Mountague, moues me + + Greg. To moue, is to stir: and to be valiant, is to stand: +Therefore, if thou art mou'd, thou runst away + + Samp. A dogge of that house shall moue me to stand. +I will take the wall of any Man or Maid of Mountagues + + Greg. That shewes thee a weake slaue, for the weakest +goes to the wall + + Samp. True, and therefore women being the weaker +Vessels, are euer thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Mountagues men from the wall, and thrust his Maides to +the wall + + Greg. The Quarrell is betweene our Masters, and vs their men + + Samp. 'Tis all one, I will shew my selfe a tyrant: when +I haue fought with the men, I will bee ciuill with the +Maids, and cut off their heads + + Greg. The heads of the Maids? + Sam. I, the heads of the Maids, or their Maiden-heads, +Take it in what sence thou wilt + + Greg. They must take it sence, that feele it + + Samp. Me they shall feele while I am able to stand: +And 'tis knowne I am a pretty peece of flesh + + Greg. 'Tis well thou art not Fish: If thou had'st, thou +had'st beene poore Iohn. Draw thy Toole, here comes of +the House of the Mountagues. +Enter two other Seruingmen. + + Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I wil back thee + Gre. How? Turne thy backe, and run + + Sam. Feare me not + + Gre. No marry: I feare thee + + Sam. Let vs take the Law of our sides: let them begin + + Gr. I wil frown as I passe by, & let the[m] take it as they list + Sam. Nay, as they dare. I wil bite my Thumb at them, +which is a disgrace to them, if they beare it + + Abra. Do you bite your Thumbe at vs sir? + Samp. I do bite my Thumbe, sir + + Abra. Do you bite your Thumb at vs, sir? + Sam. Is the Law of our side, if I say I? + Gre. No + + Sam. No sir, I do not bite my Thumbe at you sir: but +I bite my Thumbe sir + + Greg. Do you quarrell sir? + Abra. Quarrell sir? no sir + + Sam. If you do sir, I am for you, I serue as good a man as you + Abra. No better? + Samp. Well sir. +Enter Benuolio. + + Gr. Say better: here comes one of my masters kinsmen + + Samp. Yes, better + + Abra. You Lye + + Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy +washing blow. + +They Fight. + + Ben. Part Fooles, put vp your Swords, you know not +what you do. +Enter Tibalt. + + Tyb. What art thou drawne, among these heartlesse +Hindes? Turne thee Benuolio, looke vpon thy death + + Ben. I do but keepe the peace, put vp thy Sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me + + Tyb. What draw, and talke of peace? I hate the word +As I hate hell, all Mountagues, and thee: +Haue at thee Coward. + +Fight. + +Enter three or foure Citizens with Clubs. + + Offi. Clubs, Bils, and Partisons, strike, beat them down +Downe with the Capulets, downe with the Mountagues. +Enter old Capulet in his Gowne, and his wife. + + Cap. What noise is this? Giue me my long Sword ho + + Wife. A crutch, a crutch: why call you for a Sword? + Cap. My Sword I say: Old Mountague is come, +And flourishes his Blade in spight of me. +Enter old Mountague, & his wife. + + Moun. Thou villaine Capulet. Hold me not, let me go + 2.Wife. Thou shalt not stir a foote to seeke a Foe. +Enter Prince Eskales, with his Traine. + + Prince. Rebellious Subiects, Enemies to peace, +Prophaners of this Neighbor-stained Steele, +Will they not heare? What hoe, you Men, you Beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernitious Rage, +With purple Fountaines issuing from your Veines: +On paine of Torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd Weapons to the ground, +And heare the Sentence of your mooued Prince. +Three ciuill Broyles, bred of an Ayery word, +By thee old Capulet and Mountague, +Haue thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient Citizens +Cast by their Graue beseeming Ornaments, +To wield old Partizans, in hands as old, +Cankred with peace, to part your Cankred hate, +If euer you disturbe our streets againe, +Your liues shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time all the rest depart away: +You Capulet shall goe along with me, +And Mountague come you this afternoone, +To know our Fathers pleasure in this case: +To old Free-towne, our common iudgement place: +Once more on paine of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt. + + Moun. Who set this auncient quarrell new abroach? +Speake Nephew, were you by, when it began: + Ben. Heere were the seruants of your aduersarie, +And yours close fighting ere I did approach, +I drew to part them, in the instant came +The fiery Tibalt, with his sword prepar'd, +Which as he breath'd defiance to my eares, +He swong about his head, and cut the windes, +Who nothing hurt withall, hist him in scorne. +While we were enterchanging thrusts and blowes, +Came more and more, and fought on part and part, +Till the Prince came, who parted either part + + Wife. O where is Romeo, saw you him to day? +Right glad am I, he was not at this fray + + Ben. Madam, an houre before the worshipt Sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the East, +A troubled mind draue me to walke abroad, +Where vnderneath the groue of Sycamour, +That West-ward rooteth from this City side: +So earely walking did I see your Sonne: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me, +And stole into the couert of the wood, +I measuring his affections by my owne, +Which then most sought, wher most might not be found: +Being one too many by my weary selfe, +Pursued my Honour, not pursuing his +And gladly shunn'd, who gladly fled from me + + Mount. Many a morning hath he there beene seene, +With teares augmenting the fresh mornings deaw, +Adding to cloudes, more cloudes with his deepe sighes, +But all so soone as the all-cheering Sunne, +Should in the farthest East begin to draw +The shadie Curtaines from Auroras bed, +Away from light steales home my heauy Sonne, +And priuate in his Chamber pennes himselfe, +Shuts vp his windowes, lockes faire day-light out, +And makes himselfe an artificiall night: +Blacke and portendous must this humour proue, +Vnlesse good counsell may the cause remoue + + Ben. My Noble Vncle doe you know the cause? + Moun. I neither know it, nor can learne of him + + Ben. Haue you importun'd him by any meanes? + Moun. Both by my selfe and many other Friends, +But he his owne affections counseller, +Is to himselfe (I will not say how true) +But to himselfe so secret and so close, +So farre from sounding and discouery, +As is the bud bit with an enuious worme, +Ere he can spread his sweete leaues to the ayre, +Or dedicate his beauty to the same. +Could we but learne from whence his sorrowes grow, +We would as willingly giue cure, as know. +Enter Romeo. + + Ben. See where he comes, so please you step aside, +Ile know his greeuance, or be much denide + + Moun. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To heare true shrift. Come Madam let's away. + +Exeunt. + + Ben. Good morrow Cousin + + Rom. Is the day so young? + Ben. But new strooke nine + + Rom. Aye me, sad houres seeme long: +Was that my Father that went hence so fast? + Ben. It was: what sadnes lengthens Romeo's houres? + Ro. Not hauing that, which hauing, makes them short + Ben. In loue + + Romeo. Out + + Ben. Of loue + + Rom. Out of her fauour where I am in loue + + Ben. Alas that loue so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proofe + + Rom. Alas that loue, whose view is muffled still, +Should without eyes, see path-wayes to his will: +Where shall we dine? O me: what fray was heere? +Yet tell me not, for I haue heard it all: +Heere's much to do with hate, but more with loue: +Why then, O brawling loue, O louing hate, +O any thing, of nothing first created: +O heauie lightnesse, serious vanity, +Mishapen Chaos of welseeming formes, +Feather of lead, bright smoake, cold fire, sicke health, +Still waking sleepe, that is not what it is: +This loue feele I, that feele no loue in this. +Doest thou not laugh? + Ben. No Coze, I rather weepe + + Rom. Good heart, at what? + Ben. At thy good hearts oppression + + Rom. Why such is loues transgression. +Griefes of mine owne lie heauie in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate to haue it preast +With more of thine, this loue that thou hast showne, +Doth adde more griefe, to too much of mine owne. +Loue, is a smoake made with the fume of sighes, +Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in Louers eyes, +Being vext, a Sea nourisht with louing teares, +What is it else? a madnesse, most discreet, +A choking gall, and a preseruing sweet: +Farewell my Coze + + Ben. Soft I will goe along. +And if you leaue me so, you do me wrong + + Rom. Tut I haue lost my selfe, I am not here, +This is not Romeo, hee's some other where + + Ben. Tell me in sadnesse, who is that you loue? + Rom. What shall I grone and tell thee? + Ben. Grone, why no: but sadly tell me who + + Rom. A sicke man in sadnesse makes his will: +A word ill vrg'd to one that is so ill: +In sadnesse Cozin, I do loue a woman + + Ben. I aym'd so neare, when I suppos'd you lou'd + + Rom. A right good marke man, and shee's faire I loue + Ben. A right faire marke, faire Coze, is soonest hit + + Rom. Well in that hit you misse, sheel not be hit +With Cupids arrow, she hath Dians wit: +And in strong proofe of chastity well arm'd: +From loues weake childish Bow, she liues vncharm'd. +Shee will not stay the siege of louing tearmes, +Nor bid th' encounter of assailing eyes. +Nor open her lap to Sainct-seducing Gold: +O she is rich in beautie, onely poore, +That when she dies, with beautie dies her store + + Ben. Then she hath sworne, that she will still liue chast? + Rom. She hath, and in that sparing make huge wast? +For beauty steru'd with her seuerity, +Cuts beauty off from all posteritie. +She is too faire, too wise: wisely too faire, +To merit blisse by making me dispaire: +She hath forsworne to loue, and in that vow +Do I liue dead, that liue to tell it now + + Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to thinke of her + + Rom. O teach me how I should forget to thinke + + Ben. By giuing liberty vnto thine eyes, +Examine other beauties, + Ro. 'Tis the way to cal hers (exquisit) in question more, +These happy maskes that kisse faire Ladies browes, +Being blacke, puts vs in mind they hide the faire: +He that is strooken blind, cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eye-sight lost: +Shew me a Mistresse that is passing faire, +What doth her beauty serue but as a note, +Where I may read who past that passing faire. +Farewell thou can'st not teach me to forget, + Ben. Ile pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Capulet, Countie Paris, and the Clowne. + + Capu. Mountague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard I thinke, +For men so old as wee, to keepe the peace + + Par. Of Honourable reckoning are you both, +And pittie 'tis you liu'd at ods so long: +But now my Lord, what say you to my sute? + Capu. But saying ore what I haue said before, +My Child is yet a stranger in the world, +Shee hath not seene the change of fourteene yeares, +Let two more Summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may thinke her ripe to be a Bride + + Pari. Younger then she, are happy mothers made + + Capu. And too soone mar'd are those so early made: +Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she, +Shee's the hopefull Lady of my earth: +But wooe her gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent, is but a part, +And shee agree, within her scope of choise, +Lyes my consent, and faire according voice: +This night I hold an old accustom'd Feast, +Whereto I haue inuited many a Guest, +Such as I loue, and you among the store, +One more, most welcome makes my number more: +At my poore house, looke to behold this night, +Earth-treading starres, that make darke heauen light, +Such comfort as do lusty young men feele, +When well apparrel'd Aprill on the heele +Of limping Winter treads, euen such delight +Among fresh Fennell buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house: heare all, all see: +And like her most, whose merit most shall be: +Which one more veiw, of many, mine being one, +May stand in number, though in reckning none. +Come, goe with me: goe sirrah trudge about, +Through faire Verona, find those persons out, +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome, on their pleasure stay. +Enter. + + Ser. Find them out whose names are written. Heere it +is written, that the Shoo-maker should meddle with his +Yard, and the Tayler with his Last, the Fisher with his +Pensill, and the Painter with his Nets. But I am sent to +find those persons whose names are writ, & can neuer find +what names the writing person hath here writ (I must to +the learned) in good time. +Enter Benuolio, and Romeo. + + Ben. Tut man, one fire burnes out anothers burning, +One paine is lesned by anothers anguish: +Turne giddie, and be holpe by backward turning: +One desparate greefe, cures with anothers languish: +Take thou some new infection to the eye, +And the rank poyson of the old wil die + + Rom. Your Plantan leafe is excellent for that + + Ben. For what I pray thee? + Rom. For your broken shin + + Ben. Why Romeo art thou mad? + Rom. Not mad, but bound more then a mad man is: +Shut vp in prison, kept without my foode, +Whipt and tormented: and Godden good fellow, + Ser. Godgigoden, I pray sir can you read? + Rom. I mine owne fortune in my miserie + + Ser. Perhaps you haue learn'd it without booke: +But I pray can you read any thing you see? + Rom. I, if I know the Letters and the Language + + Ser. Ye say honestly, rest you merry + + Rom. Stay fellow, I can read. + +He reades the Letter. + +Seigneur Martino, and his wife and daughter: County Anselme +and his beautious sisters: the Lady widdow of Vtruuio, +Seigneur Placentio, and his louely Neeces: Mercutio and +his brother Valentine: mine vncle Capulet his wife and daughters: +my faire Neece Rosaline, Liuia, Seigneur Valentio, & his +Cosen Tybalt: Lucio and the liuely Helena. +A faire assembly, whither should they come? + Ser. Vp + + Rom. Whither? to supper? + Ser. To our house + + Rom. Whose house? + Ser. My Maisters + + Rom. Indeed I should haue askt you that before + + Ser. Now Ile tell you without asking. My maister is +the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of +Mountagues I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest +you merry. +Enter. + + Ben. At this same auncient Feast of Capulets +Sups the faire Rosaline, whom thou so loues: +With all the admired Beauties of Verona, +Go thither and with vnattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee thinke thy Swan a Crow + + Rom. When the deuout religion of mine eye +Maintaines such falshood, then turne teares to fire: +And these who often drown'd could neuer die, +Transparent Heretiques be burnt for liers. +One fairer then my loue: the all-seeing Sun +Nere saw her match, since first the world begun + + Ben. Tut, you saw her faire, none else being by, +Herselfe poys'd with herselfe in either eye: +But in that Christall scales, let there be waid, +Your Ladies loue against some other Maid +That I will show you, shining at this Feast, +And she shew scant shell, well, that now shewes best + + Rom. Ile goe along, no such sight to be showne, +But to reioyce in splendor of mine owne. +Enter Capulets Wife and Nurse. + + Wife. Nurse wher's my daughter? call her forth to me + + Nurse. Now by my Maidenhead, at twelue yeare old +I bad her come, what Lamb: what Ladi-bird, God forbid, +Where's this Girle? what Iuliet? +Enter Iuliet + + Iuliet. How now, who calls? + Nur. Your Mother + + Iuliet. Madam I am heere, what is your will? + Wife. This is the matter: Nurse giue me leaue awhile, we +must talke in secret. Nurse come backe againe, I haue remembred +me, thou'se heare our counsell. Thou knowest +my daughter's of a prety age + + Nurse. Faith I can tell her age vnto an houre + + Wife. Shee's not fourteene + + Nurse. Ile lay fourteene of my teeth, +And yet to my teene be it spoken, +I haue but foure, shee's not fourteene. +How long is it now to Lammas tide? + Wife. A fortnight and odde dayes + + Nurse. Euen or odde, of all daies in the yeare come +Lammas Eue at night shall she be fourteene. Susan & she, +God rest all Christian soules, were of an age. Well Susan +is with God, she was too good for me. But as I said, on Lamas +Eue at night shall she be fourteene, that shall she marie, +I remember it well. 'Tis since the Earth-quake now +eleuen yeares, and she was wean'd I neuer shall forget it, +of all the daies of the yeare, vpon that day: for I had then +laid Worme-wood to my Dug sitting in the Sunne vnder +the Douehouse wall, my Lord and you were then at +Mantua, nay I doe beare a braine. But as I said, when it +did tast the Worme-wood on the nipple of my Dugge, +and felt it bitter, pretty foole, to see it teachie, and fall out +with the Dugge, Shake quoth the Doue-house, 'twas no +neede I trow to bid mee trudge, and since that time it is +a eleuen yeares, for then she could stand alone, nay bi'th' +roode she could haue runne, & wadled all about: for euen +the day before she broke her brow, & then my Husband +God be with his soule, a was a merrie man, tooke vp the +Child, yea quoth hee, doest thou fall vpon thy face? thou +wilt fall backeward when thou hast more wit, wilt thou +not Iule? And by my holy-dam, the pretty wretch lefte +crying, & said I: to see now how a Iest shall come about. +I warrant, & I shall liue a thousand yeares, I neuer should +forget it: wilt thou not Iule quoth he? and pretty foole it +stinted, and said I + + Old La. Inough of this, I pray thee hold thy peace + + Nurse. Yes Madam, yet I cannot chuse but laugh, to +thinke it should leaue crying, & say I: and yet I warrant +it had vpon it brow, a bumpe as big as a young Cockrels +stone? A perilous knock, and it cryed bitterly. Yea quoth +my husband, fall'st vpon thy face, thou wilt fall backward +when thou commest to age: wilt thou not Iule? It +stinted: and said I + + Iule. And stint thou too, I pray thee Nurse, say I + + Nur. Peace I haue done: God marke thee too his grace +thou wast the prettiest Babe that ere I nurst, and I might +liue to see thee married once, I haue my wish + + Old La. Marry that marry is the very theame +I came to talke of, tell me daughter Iuliet, +How stands your disposition to be Married? + Iuli. It is an houre that I dreame not of + + Nur. An houre, were I not thine onely Nurse, I would +say thou had'st suckt wisedome from thy teat + + Old La. Well thinke of marriage now, yonger then you +Heere in Verona, Ladies of esteeme, +Are made already Mothers. By my count +I was your Mother, much vpon these yeares +That you are now a Maide, thus then in briefe: +The valiant Paris seekes you for his loue + + Nurse. A man young Lady, Lady, such a man as all +the world. Why hee's a man of waxe + + Old La. Veronas Summer hath not such a flower + + Nurse. Nay hee's a flower, infaith a very flower + + Old La. What say you, can you loue the Gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our Feast, +Read ore the volume of young Paris face, +And find delight, writ there with Beauties pen: +Examine euery seuerall liniament, +And see how one another lends content: +And what obscur'd in this faire volume lies, +Find written in the Margent of his eyes. +This precious Booke of Loue, this vnbound Louer, +To Beautifie him, onely lacks a Couer. +The fish liues in the Sea, and 'tis much pride +For faire without, the faire within to hide: +That Booke in manies eyes doth share the glorie, +That in Gold claspes, Lockes in the Golden storie: +So shall you share all that he doth possesse, +By hauing him, making your selfe no lesse + + Nurse. No lesse, nay bigger: women grow by men + + Old La. Speake briefly, can you like of Paris loue? + Iuli. Ile looke to like, if looking liking moue. +But no more deepe will I endart mine eye, +Then your consent giues strength to make flye. +Enter a Seruing man. + + Ser. Madam, the guests are come, supper seru'd vp, you +cal'd, my young Lady askt for, the Nurse cur'st in the Pantery, +and euery thing in extremitie: I must hence to wait, I +beseech you follow straight. +Enter. + + Mo. We follow thee, Iuliet, the Countie staies + + Nurse. Goe Gyrle, seeke happie nights to happy daies. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benuolio, with fiue or sixe other Maskers, +Torch-bearers. + + Rom. What shall this spech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without Apologie? + Ben. The date is out of such prolixitie, +Weele haue no Cupid, hood winkt with a skarfe, +Bearing a Tartars painted Bow of lath, +Skaring the Ladies like a Crow-keeper. +But let them measure vs by what they will, +Weele measure them with a Measure, and be gone + + Rom. Giue me a Torch, I am not for this ambling. +Being but heauy I will beare the light + + Mer. Nay gentle Romeo, we must haue you dance + + Rom. Not I beleeue me, you haue dancing shooes +With nimble soles, I haue a soale of Lead +So stakes me to the ground, I cannot moue + + Mer. You are a Louer, borrow Cupids wings, +And soare with them aboue a common bound + + Rom. I am too sore enpearced with his shaft, +To soare with his light feathers, and to bound: +I cannot bound a pitch aboue dull woe, +Vnder loues heauy burthen doe I sinke + + Hora. And to sinke in it should you burthen loue, +Too great oppression for a tender thing + + Rom. Is loue a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boysterous, and it pricks like thorne + + Mer. If loue be rough with you, be rough with loue, +Pricke loue for pricking, and you beat loue downe, +Giue 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-browes shall blush for me + + Ben. Come knocke and enter, and no sooner in, +But euery man betake him to his legs + + Rom. A Torch for me, let wantons light of heart +Tickle the sencelesse rushes with their heeles: +For I am prouerb'd with a Grandsier Phrase, +Ile be a Candle-holder and looke on, +The game was nere so faire, and I am done + + Mer. Tut, duns the Mouse, the Constables owne word, +If thou art dun, weele draw thee from the mire. +Or saue your reuerence loue, wherein thou stickest +Vp to the eares, come we burne day-light ho + + Rom. Nay that's not so + + Mer. I meane sir I delay, +We wast our lights in vaine, lights, lights, by day; +Take our good meaning, for our Iudgement sits +Fiue times in that, ere once in our fiue wits + + Rom. And we meane well in going to this Maske, +But 'tis no wit to go + + Mer. Why may one aske? + Rom. I dreampt a dreame to night + + Mer. And so did I + + Rom. Well what was yours? + Mer. That dreamers often lye + + Ro. In bed a sleepe while they do dreame things true + + Mer. O then I see Queene Mab hath beene with you: +She is the Fairies Midwife, & she comes in shape no bigger +then Agat-stone, on the fore-finger of an Alderman, +drawne with a teeme of little Atomies, ouer mens noses as +they lie asleepe: her Waggon Spokes made of long Spinners +legs: the Couer of the wings of Grashoppers, her +Traces of the smallest Spiders web, her coullers of the +Moonshines watry Beames, her Whip of Crickets bone, +the Lash of Philome, her Waggoner, a small gray-coated +Gnat, not halfe so bigge as a round little Worme, prickt +from the Lazie-finger of a man. Her Chariot is an emptie +Haselnut, made by the Ioyner Squirrel or old Grub, time +out a mind, the Faries Coach-makers: & in this state she +gallops night by night, through Louers braines: and then +they dreame of Loue. On Courtiers knees, that dreame on +Cursies strait: ore Lawyers fingers, who strait dreampt on +Fees, ore Ladies lips, who strait on kisses dreame, which +oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, because their +breath with Sweet meats tainted are. Sometime she gallops +ore a Courtiers nose, & then dreames he of smelling +out a sute: & somtime comes she with Tith pigs tale, tickling +a Parsons nose as a lies asleepe, then he dreames of +another Benefice. Sometime she driueth ore a Souldiers +necke, & then dreames he of cutting Forraine throats, of +Breaches, Ambuscados, Spanish Blades: Of Healths fiue +Fadome deepe, and then anon drums in his eares, at which +he startes and wakes; and being thus frighted, sweares a +prayer or two & sleepes againe: this is that very Mab that +plats the manes of Horses in the night: & bakes the Elklocks +in foule sluttish haires, which once vntangled, much +misfortune bodes, +This is the hag, when Maides lie on their backs, +That presses them, and learnes them first to beare, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she + + Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio peace, +Thou talk'st of nothing + + Mer. True, I talke of dreames: +Which are the children of an idle braine, +Begot of nothing, but vaine phantasie, +Which is as thin of substance as the ayre, +And more inconstant then the wind, who wooes +Euen now the frozen bosome of the North: +And being anger'd, puffes away from thence, +Turning his side to the dew dropping South + + Ben. This wind you talke of blowes vs from our selues, +Supper is done, and we shall come too late + + Rom. I feare too early, for my mind misgiues, +Some consequence yet hanging in the starres, +Shall bitterly begin his fearefull date +With this nights reuels, and expire the tearme +Of a despised life clos'd in my brest: +By some vile forfeit of vntimely death. +But he that hath the stirrage of my course, +Direct my sute: on lustie Gentlemen + + Ben. Strike Drum. + +They march about the Stage, and Seruingmen come forth with +their napkins. + +Enter Seruant. + + Ser. Where's Potpan, that he helpes not to take away? +He shift a Trencher? he scrape a Trencher? + 1. When good manners, shall lie in one or two mens +hands, and they vnwasht too, 'tis a foule thing + + Ser. Away with the Ioynstooles, remoue the Courtcubbord, +looke to the Plate: good thou, saue mee a piece +of Marchpane, and as thou louest me, let the Porter let in +Susan Grindstone, and Nell, Anthonie and Potpan + + 2. I Boy readie + + Ser. You are lookt for, and cal'd for, askt for, & sought +for, in the great Chamber + + 1. We cannot be here and there too, chearly Boyes, +Be brisk awhile, and the longer liuer take all. + +Exeunt. + +Enter all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers. + + 1. Capu. Welcome Gentlemen, +Ladies that haue their toes +Vnplagu'd with Cornes, will walke about with you: +Ah my Mistresses, which of you all +Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, +She Ile sweare hath Cornes: am I come neare ye now? +Welcome Gentlemen, I haue seene the day +That I haue worne a Visor, and could tell +A whispering tale in a faire Ladies eare: +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone, +You are welcome Gentlemen, come Musitians play: + +Musicke plaies: and they dance. + +A Hall, Hall, giue roome, and foote it Girles, +More light you knaues, and turne the Tables vp: +And quench the fire, the Roome is growne too hot. +Ah sirrah, this vnlookt for sport comes well: +Nay sit, nay sit, good Cozin Capulet, +For you and I are past our dauncing daies: +How long 'ist now since last your selfe and I +Were in a Maske? + 2. Capu. Berlady thirty yeares + + 1. Capu. What man: 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much, +'Tis since the Nuptiall of Lucentio, +Come Pentycost as quickely as it will, +Some fiue and twenty yeares, and then we Maskt + + 2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more, his Sonne is elder sir: +His Sonne is thirty + + 3. Cap. Will you tell me that? +His Sonne was but a Ward two yeares agoe + + Rom. What Ladie is that which doth inrich the hand +Of yonder Knight? + Ser. I know not sir + + Rom. O she doth teach the Torches to burne bright: +It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night, +As a rich Iewel in an aethiops eare: +Beauty too rich for vse, for earth too deare: +So shewes a Snowy Doue trooping with Crowes, +As yonder Lady ore her fellowes showes; +The measure done, Ile watch her place of stand, +And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart loue till now, forsweare it sight, +For I neuer saw true Beauty till this night + + Tib. This by his voice, should be a Mountague. +Fetch me my Rapier Boy, what dares the slaue +Come hither couer'd with an antique face, +To fleere and scorne at our Solemnitie? +Now by the stocke and Honour of my kin, +To strike him dead I hold it not a sin + + Cap. Why how now kinsman, +Wherefore storme you so? + Tib. Vncle this is a Mountague, our foe: +A Villaine that is hither come in spight, +To scorne at our Solemnitie this night + + Cap. Young Romeo is it? + Tib. 'Tis he, that Villaine Romeo + + Cap. Content thee gentle Coz, let him alone, +A beares him like a portly Gentleman: +And to say truth, Verona brags of him, +To be a vertuous and well gouern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the towne, +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therfore be patient, take no note of him, +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Shew a faire presence, and put off these frownes, +An ill beseeming semblance for a Feast + Tib. It fits when such a Villaine is a guest, +Ile not endure him + + Cap. He shall be endur'd. +What goodman boy, I say he shall, go too, +Am I the Maister here or you? go too, +Youle not endure him, God shall mend my soule, +Youle make a Mutinie among the Guests: +You will set cocke a hoope, youle be the man + + Tib. Why Vncle, 'tis a shame + + Cap. Go too, go too, +You are a sawcy Boy, 'ist so indeed? +This tricke may chance to scath you, I know what, +You must contrary me, marry 'tis time. +Well said my hearts, you are a Princox, goe, +Be quiet, or more light, more light for shame, +Ile make you quiet. What, chearely my hearts + + Tib. Patience perforce, with wilfull choler meeting, +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting: +I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet, conuert to bitter gall. +Enter. + + Rom. If I prophane with my vnworthiest hand, +This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this, +My lips to blushing Pilgrims did ready stand, +To smooth that rough touch, with a tender kisse + + Iul. Good Pilgrime, +You do wrong your hand too much. +Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this, +For Saints haue hands, that Pilgrims hands do tuch, +And palme to palme, is holy Palmers kisse + + Rom. Haue not Saints lips, and holy Palmers too? + Iul. I Pilgrim, lips that they must vse in prayer + + Rom. O then deare Saint, let lips do what hands do, +They pray (grant thou) least faith turne to dispaire + + Iul. Saints do not moue, +Though grant for prayers sake + + Rom. Then moue not while my prayers effect I take: +Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd + + Iul. Then haue my lips the sin that they haue tooke + + Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespasse sweetly vrg'd: +Giue me my sin againe + + Iul. You kisse by'th' booke + + Nur. Madam your Mother craues a word with you + + Rom. What is her Mother? + Nurs. Marrie Batcheler, +Her Mother is the Lady of the house, +And a good Lady, and a wise, and Vertuous, +I Nur'st her Daughter that you talkt withall: +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her, +Shall haue the chincks + + Rom. Is she a Capulet? +O deare account! My life is my foes debt + + Ben. Away, be gone, the sport is at the best + + Rom. I so I feare, the more is my vnrest + + Cap. Nay Gentlemen prepare not to be gone, +We haue a trifling foolish Banquet towards: +Is it e'ne so? why then I thanke you all. +I thanke you honest Gentlemen, good night: +More Torches here: come on, then let's to bed. +Ah sirrah, by my faie it waxes late, +Ile to my rest + + Iuli. Come hither Nurse, +What is yond Gentleman: + Nur. The Sonne and Heire of old Tyberio + + Iuli. What's he that now is going out of doore? + Nur. Marrie that I thinke be young Petruchio + + Iul. What's he that follows here that would not dance? + Nur. I know not + + Iul. Go aske his name: if he be married, +My graue is like to be my wedded bed + + Nur. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague, +The onely Sonne of your great Enemie + + Iul. My onely Loue sprung from my onely hate, +Too early seene, vnknowne, and knowne too late, +Prodigious birth of Loue it is to me, +That I must loue a loathed Enemie + + Nur. What's this? whats this? + Iul. A rime, I learne euen now +Of one I dan'st withall. + +One cals within, Iuliet. + + Nur. Anon, anon: +Come let's away, the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt. + + Chorus. Now old desire doth in his death bed lie, +And yong affection gapes to be his Heire, +That faire, for which Loue gron'd for and would die, +With tender Iuliet matcht, is now not faire. +Now Romeo is beloued, and Loues againe, +A like bewitched by the charme of lookes: +But to his foe suppos'd he must complaine, +And she steale Loues sweet bait from fearefull hookes: +Being held a foe, he may not haue accesse +To breath such vowes as Louers vse to sweare, +And she as much in Loue, her meanes much lesse, +To meete her new Beloued any where: +But passion lends them Power, time, meanes to meete, +Temp'ring extremities with extreame sweete. +Enter Romeo alone. + + Rom. Can I goe forward when my heart is here? +Turne backe dull earth, and find thy Center out. +Enter Benuolio, with Mercutio. + + Ben. Romeo, my Cozen Romeo, Romeo + + Merc. He is wise, +And on my life hath stolne him home to bed + + Ben. He ran this way and leapt this Orchard wall. +Call good Mercutio: +Nay, Ile coniure too + + Mer. Romeo, Humours, Madman, Passion, Louer, +Appeare thou in the likenesse of a sigh, +Speake but one time, and I am satisfied: +Cry me but ay me, Prouant, but Loue and day, +Speake to my goship Venus one faire word, +One Nickname for her purblind Sonne and her, +Young Abraham Cupid he that shot so true, +When King Cophetua lou'd the begger Maid, +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moueth not, +The Ape is dead, I must coniure him, +I coniure thee by Rosalines bright eyes, +By her High forehead, and her Scarlet lip, +By her Fine foote, Straight leg, and Quiuering thigh, +And the Demeanes, that there Adiacent lie, +That in thy likenesse thou appeare to vs + + Ben. And if he heare thee thou wilt anger him + + Mer. This cannot anger him, t'would anger him +To raise a spirit in his Mistresse circle, +Of some strange nature, letting it stand +Till she had laid it, and coniured it downe, +That were some spight. +My inuocation is faire and honest, & in his Mistris name, +I coniure onely but to raise vp him + + Ben. Come, he hath hid himselfe among these Trees +To be consorted with the Humerous night: +Blind is his Loue, and best befits the darke + + Mer. If Loue be blind, Loue cannot hit the marke, +Now will he sit vnder a Medler tree, +And wish his Mistresse were that kind of Fruite, +As Maides cal Medlers when they laugh alone, +O Romeo that she were, O that she were +An open, or thou a Poprin Peare, +Romeo goodnight, Ile to my Truckle bed, +This Field-bed is to cold for me to sleepe, +Come shall we go? + Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vaine to seeke him here +That meanes not to be found. + +Exeunt. + + Rom. He ieasts at Scarres that neuer felt a wound, +But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the East, and Iuliet is the Sunne, +Arise faire Sun and kill the enuious Moone, +Who is already sicke and pale with griefe, +That thou her Maid art far more faire then she: +Be not her Maid since she is enuious, +Her Vestal liuery is but sicke and greene, +And none but fooles do weare it, cast it off: +It is my Lady, O it is my Loue, O that she knew she were, +She speakes, yet she sayes nothing, what of that? +Her eye discourses, I will answere it: +I am too bold 'tis not to me she speakes: +Two of the fairest starres in all the Heauen, +Hauing some businesse do entreat her eyes, +To twinckle in their Spheres till they returne. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head, +The brightnesse of her cheeke would shame those starres, +As day-light doth a Lampe, her eye in heauen, +Would through the ayrie Region streame so bright, +That Birds would sing, and thinke it were not night: +See how she leanes her cheeke vpon her hand. +O that I were a Gloue vpon that hand, +That I might touch that cheeke + + Iul. Ay me + + Rom. She speakes. +Oh speake againe bright Angell, for thou art +As glorious to this night being ore my head, +As is a winged messenger of heauen +Vnto the white vpturned wondring eyes +Of mortalls that fall backe to gaze on him, +When he bestrides the lazie puffing Cloudes, +And sailes vpon the bosome of the ayre + + Iul. O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? +Denie thy Father and refuse thy name: +Or if thou wilt not, be but sworne to my Loue, +And Ile no longer be a Capulet + + Rom. Shall I heare more, or shall I speake at this? + Iu. 'Tis but thy name that is my Enemy: +Thou art thy selfe, though not a Mountague, +What's Mountague? it is nor hand nor foote, +Nor arme, nor face, O be some other name +Belonging to a man. +What? in a names that which we call a Rose, +By any other word would smell as sweete, +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cal'd, +Retaine that deare perfection which he owes, +Without that title Romeo, doffe thy name, +And for thy name which is no part of thee, +Take all my selfe + + Rom. I take thee at thy word: +Call me but Loue, and Ile be new baptiz'd, +Hence foorth I neuer will be Romeo + + Iuli. What man art thou, that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsell? + Rom. By a name, +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name deare Saint, is hatefull to my selfe, +Because it is an Enemy to thee, +Had I it written, I would teare the word + + Iuli. My eares haue yet not drunke a hundred words +Of thy tongues vttering, yet I know the sound. +Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague? + Rom. Neither faire Maid, if either thee dislike + + Iul. How cam'st thou hither. +Tell me, and wherefore? +The Orchard walls are high, and hard to climbe, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here, + Rom. With Loues light wings +Did I ore-perch these Walls, +For stony limits cannot hold Loue out, +And what Loue can do, that dares Loue attempt: +Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me + + Iul. If they do see thee, they will murther thee + + Rom. Alacke there lies more perill in thine eye, +Then twenty of their Swords, looke thou but sweete, +And I am proofe against their enmity + + Iul. I would not for the world they saw thee here + + Rom. I haue nights cloake to hide me from their eyes +And but thou loue me, let them finde me here, +My life were better ended by their hate, +Then death proroged wanting of thy Loue + + Iul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + Rom. By Loue that first did prompt me to enquire, +He lent me counsell, and I lent him eyes, +I am no Pylot, yet wert thou as far +As that vast-shore-washet with the farthest Sea, +I should aduenture for such Marchandise + + Iul. Thou knowest the maske of night is on my face, +Else would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeke, +For that which thou hast heard me speake to night, +Faine would I dwell on forme, faine, faine, denie +What I haue spoke, but farewell Complement, +Doest thou Loue? I know thou wilt say I, +And I will take thy word, yet if thou swear'st, +Thou maiest proue false: at Louers periuries +They say Ioue laught, oh gentle Romeo, +If thou dost Loue, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly wonne, +Ile frowne and be peruerse, and say thee nay, +So thou wilt wooe: But else not for the world. +In truth faire Mountague I am too fond: +And therefore thou maiest thinke my behauiour light, +But trust me Gentleman, Ile proue more true, +Then those that haue coying to be strange, +I should haue beene more strange, I must confesse, +But that thou ouer heard'st ere I was ware +My true Loues passion, therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yeelding to light Loue, +Which the darke night hath so discouered + + Rom. Lady, by yonder Moone I vow, +That tips with siluer all these Fruite tree tops + + Iul. O sweare not by the Moone, th' inconstant Moone, +That monethly changes in her circled Orbe, +Least that thy Loue proue likewise variable + + Rom. What shall I sweare by? + Iul. Do not sweare at all: +Or if thou wilt sweare by thy gratious selfe, +Which is the God of my Idolatry, +And Ile beleeue thee + + Rom. If my hearts deare loue + + Iuli. Well do not sweare, although I ioy in thee: +I haue no ioy of this contract to night, +It is too rash, too vnaduis'd, too sudden, +Too like the lightning which doth cease to be +Ere, one can say, it lightens, Sweete good night: +This bud of Loue by Summers ripening breath, +May proue a beautious Flower when next we meete: +Goodnight, goodnight, as sweete repose and rest, +Come to thy heart, as that within my brest + + Rom. O wilt thou leaue me so vnsatisfied? + Iuli. What satisfaction can'st thou haue to night? + Ro. Th' exchange of thy Loues faithfull vow for mine + + Iul. I gaue thee mine before thou did'st request it: +And yet I would it were to giue againe + + Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it, +For what purpose Loue? + Iul. But to be franke and giue it thee againe, +And yet I wish but for the thing I haue, +My bounty is as boundlesse as the Sea, +My Loue as deepe, the more I giue to thee +The more I haue, for both are Infinite: +I heare some noyse within deare Loue adue: + +Cals within. + +Anon good Nurse, sweet Mountague be true: +Stay but a little, I will come againe + + Rom. O blessed blessed night, I am afear'd +Being in night, all this is but a dreame, +Too flattering sweet to be substantiall + + Iul. Three words deare Romeo, +And goodnight indeed, +If that thy bent of Loue be Honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to morrow, +By one that Ile procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt performe the right, +And all my Fortunes at thy foote Ile lay, +And follow thee my Lord throughout the world + + Within: Madam. +I come, anon: but if thou meanest not well, +I do beseech thee + Within: Madam. +(By and by I come) +To cease thy strife, and leaue me to my griefe, +To morrow will I send + + Rom. So thriue my soule + + Iu. A thousand times goodnight. +Enter. + + Rome. A thousand times the worse to want thy light, +Loue goes toward Loue as school-boyes fro[m] their books +But Loue fro[m] Loue, towards schoole with heauie lookes. +Enter Iuliet againe. + + Iul. Hist Romeo hist: O for a Falkners voice, +To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe, +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speake aloud, +Else would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies, +And make her ayrie tongue more hoarse, then +With repetition of my Romeo + + Rom. It is my soule that calls vpon my name. +How siluer sweet, sound Louers tongues by night, +Like softest Musicke to attending eares + + Iul. Romeo + + Rom. My Neece + + Iul. What a clock to morrow +Shall I send to thee? + Rom. By the houre of nine + + Iul. I will not faile, 'tis twenty yeares till then, +I haue forgot why I did call thee backe + + Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it + + Iul. I shall forget, to haue thee still stand there, +Remembring how I Loue thy company + + Rom. And Ile still stay, to haue thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this + + Iul. 'Tis almost morning, I would haue thee gone, +And yet no further then a wantons Bird, +That let's it hop a little from his hand, +Like a poore prisoner in his twisted Gyues, +And with a silken thred plucks it backe againe, +So louing Iealous of his liberty + + Rom. I would I were thy Bird + + Iul. Sweet so would I, +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing: +Good night, good night + + Rom. Parting is such sweete sorrow, +That I shall say goodnight, till it be morrow + + Iul. Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace in thy brest + + Rom. Would I were sleepe and peace so sweet to rest, +The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night, +Checkring the Easterne Clouds with streakes of light, +And darkenesse fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles, +From forth dayes pathway, made by Titans wheeles. +Hence will I to my ghostly Friers close Cell, +His helpe to craue, and my deare hap to tell. +Enter. + +Enter Frier alone with a basket. + + Fri. The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night, +Checkring the Easterne Cloudes with streaks of light: +And fleckled darknesse like a drunkard reeles, +From forth daies path, and Titans burning wheeles: +Now ere the Sun aduance his burning eye, +The day to cheere, and nights danke dew to dry, +I must vpfill this Osier Cage of ours, +With balefull weedes, and precious Iuiced flowers, +The earth that's Natures mother, is her Tombe, +What is her burying graue that is her wombe: +And from her wombe children of diuers kind +We sucking on her naturall bosome find: +Many for many vertues excellent: +None but for some, and yet all different. +O mickle is the powerfull grace that lies +In Plants, Hearbs, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile, that on earth doth liue, +But to the earth some speciall good doth giue. +Nor ought so good, but strain'd from that faire vse, +Reuolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse. +Vertue it selfe turnes vice being misapplied, +And vice sometime by action dignified. +Enter Romeo. + +Within the infant rind of this weake flower, +Poyson hath residence, and medicine power: +For this being smelt, with that part cheares each part, +Being tasted stayes all sences with the heart. +Two such opposed Kings encampe them still, +In man as well as Hearbes, grace and rude will: +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soone the Canker death eates vp that Plant + + Rom. Good morrow Father + + Fri. Benedecite. +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young Sonne, it argues a distempered head, +So soone to bid goodmorrow to thy bed; +Care keepes his watch in euery old mans eye, +And where Care lodges, sleepe will neuer lye: +But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braine +Doth couch his lims, there, golden sleepe doth raigne; +Therefore thy earlinesse doth me assure, +Thou art vprous'd with some distemprature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right. +Our Romeo hath not beene in bed to night + + Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine + + Fri. God pardon sin: wast thou with Rosaline? + Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly Father? No, +I haue forgot that name, and that names woe + + Fri. That's my good Son, but wher hast thou bin then? + Rom. Ile tell thee ere thou aske it me agen: +I haue beene feasting with mine enemie, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy helpe and holy phisicke lies: +I beare no hatred, blessed man: for loe +My intercession likewise steads my foe + + Fri. Be plaine good Son, rest homely in thy drift, +Ridling confession, findes but ridling shrift + + Rom. Then plainly know my hearts deare Loue is set, +On the faire daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combin'd, saue what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where, and how, +We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow: +Ile tell thee as we passe, but this I pray, +That thou consent to marrie vs to day + + Fri. Holy S[aint]. Francis, what a change is heere? +Is Rosaline that thou didst Loue so deare +So soone forsaken? young mens Loue then lies +Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Iesu Maria, what a deale of brine +Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline? +How much salt water throwne away in wast, +To season Loue that of it doth not tast. +The Sun not yet thy sighes, from heauen cleares, +Thy old grones yet ringing in my auncient eares: +Lo here vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit, +Of an old teare that is not washt off yet. +If ere thou wast thy selfe, 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 + + Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for louing Rosaline + + Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine + + Rom. And bad'st me bury Loue + + Fri. Not in a graue, +To lay one in, another out to haue + + Rom. I pray thee chide me not, her I Loue now +Doth grace for grace, and Loue for Loue allow: +The other did not so + + Fri. O she knew well, +Thy Loue did read by rote, that could not spell: +But come young wauerer, come goe with me, +In one respect, Ile thy assistant be: +For this alliance may so happy proue, +To turne your houshould rancor to pure Loue + + Rom. O let vs hence, I stand on sudden hast + + Fri. Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Benuolio and Mercutio. + + Mer. Where the deule should this Romeo be? came he +not home to night? + Ben. Not to his Fathers, I spoke with his man + + Mer. Why that same pale hard-harted wench, that Rosaline +torments him so, that he will sure run mad + + Ben. Tibalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a Letter +to his Fathers house + + Mer. A challenge on my life + + Ben. Romeo will answere it + + Mer. Any man that can write, may answere a Letter + + Ben. Nay, he will answere the Letters Maister how he +dares, being dared + + Mer. Alas poore Romeo, he is already dead stab'd with +a white wenches blacke eye, runne through the eare with +a Loue song, the very pinne of his heart, cleft with the +blind Bowe-boyes but-shaft, and is he a man to encounter +Tybalt? + Ben. Why what is Tibalt? + Mer. More then Prince of Cats. Oh hee's the Couragious +Captaine of Complements: he fights as you sing +pricksong, keeps time, distance, and proportion, he rests +his minum, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very +butcher of a silk button, a Dualist, a Dualist: a Gentleman +of the very first house of the first and second cause: ah the +immortall Passado, the Punto reuerso, the Hay + + Ben. The what? + Mer. The Pox of such antique lisping affecting phantacies, +these new tuners of accent: Iesu a very good blade, +a very tall man, a very good whore. Why is not this a lamentable +thing Grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted +with these strange flies: these fashion Mongers, these +pardon-mee'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. + + Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo + + Mer. Without his Roe, like a dryed Hering. O flesh, +flesh, how art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his Lady, was a kitchen +wench, marrie she had a better Loue to berime her: Dido +a dowdie, Cleopatra a Gipsie, Hellen and Hero, hildings +and Harlots: Thisbie a gray eie or so, but not to the purpose. +Signior Romeo, Bon iour, there's a French salutation to your +French slop: you gaue vs the counterfait fairely last +night + + Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit +did I giue you? + Mer. The slip sir, the slip, can you not conceiue? + Rom. Pardon Mercutio, my businesse was great, and in +such a case as mine, a man may straine curtesie + + Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains +a man to bow in the hams + + Rom. Meaning to cursie + + Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it + + Rom. A most curteous exposition + + Mer. Nay, I am the very pinck of curtesie + + Rom. Pinke for flower + + Mer. Right + + Rom. Why then is my Pump well flowr'd + + Mer. Sure wit, follow me this ieast, now till thou hast +worne out thy Pump, that when the single sole of it is +worne, the ieast may remaine after the wearing, sole-singular + + Rom. O single sol'd ieast, +Soly singular for the singlenesse + + Mer. Come betweene vs good Benuolio, my wits faints + + Rom. Swits and spurs, +Swits and spurs, or Ile crie a match + + Mer. 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, then I am sure I haue in my whole fiue. Was I +with you there for the Goose? + Rom. Thou wast neuer with mee for any thing, when +thou wast not there for the Goose + + Mer. I will bite thee by the eare for that iest + + Rom. Nay, good Goose bite not + + Mer. Thy wit is a very Bitter-sweeting, +It is a most sharpe sawce + + Rom. And is it not well seru'd into a Sweet-Goose? + Mer. Oh here's a wit of Cheuerell, that stretches from +an ynch narrow, to an ell broad + + Rom. I stretch it out for that word, broad, which added +to the Goose, proues thee farre and wide, abroad Goose + + Mer. Why is not this better now, then groning for +Loue, now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo: now art +thou what thou art, by Art as well as by Nature, for this +driueling Loue is like a great Naturall, that runs lolling +vp and downe to hid his bable in a hole + + Ben. Stop there, stop there + + Mer. Thou desir'st me to stop in my tale against the haire + + Ben. Thou would'st else haue made thy tale large + + Mer. O thou art deceiu'd, I would haue made it short, +or I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant +indeed to occupie the argument no longer. +Enter Nurse and her man. + + Rom. Here's a goodly geare. +A sayle, a sayle + + Mer. Two, two: a Shirt and a Smocke + + Nur. Peter? + Peter. Anon + + Nur. My Fan Peter? + Mer. Good Peter to hide her face? +For her Fans the fairer face? + Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen + + Mer. God ye gooden faire Gentlewoman + + Nur. Is it gooden? + Mer. 'Tis no lesse I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the +Dyall is now vpon the pricke of Noone + + Nur. Out vpon you: what a man are you? + Rom. One Gentlewoman, +That God hath made, himselfe to mar + + Nur. By my troth it is said, for himselfe to, mar quatha: +Gentlemen, can any of you tel me where I may find +the young Romeo? + Romeo. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older +when you haue found him, then he was when you sought +him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse + + Nur. You say well + + Mer. Yea is the worst well, +Very well tooke: Ifaith, wisely, wisely + + Nur. If you be he sir, +I desire some confidence with you? + Ben. She will endite him to some Supper + + Mer. A baud, a baud, a baud. So ho + + Rom. What hast thou found? + Mer. No Hare sir, vnlesse a Hare sir in a Lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoare ere it be spent. +An old Hare hoare, and an old Hare hoare is very good +meat in Lent. +But a Hare that is hoare is too much for a score, when it +hoares ere it be spent, +Romeo will you come to your Fathers? Weele to dinner +thither + + Rom. I will follow you + + Mer. Farewell auncient Lady: +Farewell Lady, Lady, Lady. + +Exit. Mercutio, Benuolio. + + Nur. I pray you sir, what sawcie Merchant was this +that was so full of his roperie? + Rom. A Gentleman Nurse, that loues to heare himselfe +talke, and will speake more in a minute, then he will stand +to in a Moneth + + Nur. And a speake any thing against me, Ile take him +downe, z a were lustier then he is, and twentie such Iacks: +and if I cannot, Ile finde those that shall: scuruie knaue, I +am none of his flurt-gils, I am none of his skaines mates, +and thou must stand by too and suffer euery knaue to vse +me at his pleasure + + Pet. I saw no man vse you at his pleasure: if I had, my +weapon should quickly haue beene out, I warrant you, I +dare draw assoone as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrell, and the law on my side + + Nur. Now afore God, I am so vext, that euery part about +me quiuers, skuruy knaue: 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 keepe to my selfe: but first let me +tell ye, if ye should leade her in a fooles paradise, as they +say, it were a very grosse kind of behauiour, as they say: +for the Gentlewoman is yong: & therefore, if you should +deale double with her, truely it were an ill thing to be offered +to any Gentlewoman, and very weake dealing + + Nur. Nurse commend me to thy Lady and Mistresse, I +protest vnto thee + + Nur. Good heart, and yfaith I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord she will be a ioyfull woman + + Rom. What wilt thou tell her Nurse? thou doest not +marke me? + Nur. I will tell her sir, that you do protest, which as I +take it, is a Gentleman-like offer + + Rom. Bid her deuise some meanes to come to shrift this +afternoone, +And there she shall at Frier Lawrence Cell +Be shriu'd and married: here is for thy paines + + Nur. No truly sir not a penny + + Rom. Go too, I say you shall + + Nur. This afternoone sir? well she shall be there + + Ro. And stay thou good Nurse behind the Abbey wall, +Within this houre my man shall be with thee, +And bring thee Cords made like a tackled staire, +Which to the high top gallant of my ioy, +Must be my conuoy in the secret night. +Farewell, be trustie and Ile quite thy paines: +Farewell, commend me to thy Mistresse + + Nur. Now God in heauen blesse thee: harke you sir, + Rom. What saist thou my deare Nurse? + Nurse. Is your man secret, did you nere heare say two +may keepe counsell putting one away + + Ro. Warrant thee my man is true as steele + + Nur. Well sir, my Mistresse is the sweetest Lady, Lord, +Lord, when 'twas a little prating thing. O there is a Noble +man in Towne one Paris, that would faine lay knife aboard: +but she good soule had as leeue see a Toade, a very +Toade as see him: I anger her sometimes, and tell her that +Paris is the properer man, but Ile warrant you, when I say +so, shee lookes as pale as any clout in the versall world. +Doth not Rosemarie and Romeo begin both with a letter? + Rom. I Nurse, what of that? Both with an R + Nur. A mocker that's the dogs 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 heare it + + Rom. Commend me to thy Lady + + Nur. I a thousand times. Peter? + Pet. Anon + + Nur. Before and apace. + +Exit Nurse and Peter. + +Enter Iuliet. + + Iul. The clocke strook nine, when I did send the Nurse, +In halfe an houre she promised to returne, +Perchance she cannot meete him: that's not so: +Oh she is lame, Loues Herauld should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glides then the Sunnes beames, +Driuing backe shadowes ouer lowring hils. +Therefore do nimble Pinion'd Doues draw Loue, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings: +Now is the Sun vpon the highmost hill +Of this daies iourney, and from nine till twelue, +Is three long houres, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warme youthfull blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball, +My words would bandy her to my sweete Loue, +And his to me, but old folkes, +Many faine as they were dead, +Vnwieldie, slow, heauy, and pale as lead. +Enter Nurse. + +O God she comes, O hony Nurse what newes? +Hast thou met with him? send thy man away + + Nur. Peter stay at the gate + + Iul. Now good sweet Nurse: +O Lord, why lookest thou sad? +Though newes, be sad, yet tell them merrily. +If good thou sham'st the musicke of sweet newes, +By playing it to me, with so sower a face + + Nur. I am a weary, giue me leaue awhile, +Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunt haue I had? + Iul. I would thou had'st my bones, and I thy newes: +Nay come I pray thee speake, good good Nurse speake + + Nur. Iesu what hast? can you not stay a while? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + Iul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breth +To say to me, that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay, +Is longer then the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy newes good or bad? answere to that, +Say either, and Ile stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, ist good or bad? + Nur. Well, you haue made a simple choice, you know +not how to chuse a man: Romeo, no not he though his face +be better then any mans, yet his legs excels all mens, and +for a hand, and a foote, and a body, though they be not to +be talkt on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower +of curtesie, but Ile warrant him as gentle a Lambe: go thy +waies wench, serue God. What haue you din'd at home? + Iul. No no: but all this did I know before +What saies he of our marriage? what of that? + Nur. Lord how my head akes, what a head haue I? +It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces. +My backe a tother side: o my backe, my backe: +Beshrew your heart for sending me about +To catch my death with iaunting vp and downe + + Iul. Ifaith: I am sorrie that thou art so well. +Sweet sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me what saies my Loue? + Nur. Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman, +And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, +And I warrant a vertuous: where is your Mother? + Iul. Where is my Mother? +Why she is within, where should she be? +How odly thou repli'st: +Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman: +Where is your Mother? + Nur. O Gods Lady deare, +Are you so hot? marrie come vp I trow, +Is this the Poultis for my aking bones? +Henceforward do your messages your selfe + + Iul. Heere's such a coile, come what saies Romeo? + Nur. Haue you got leaue to go to shift to day? + Iul. I haue + + Nur. Then high you hence to Frier Lawrence Cell, +There staies a Husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton bloud vp in your cheekes, +Thei'le be in Scarlet straight at any newes: +Hie you to Church, I must an other way, +To fetch a Ladder by the which your Loue +Must climde a birds nest Soone when it is darke: +I am the drudge, and toile in your delight: +But you shall beare the burthen soone at night. +Go Ile to dinner, hie you to the Cell + + Iul. Hie to high Fortune, honest Nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Frier and Romeo. + + Fri. So smile the heauens vpon this holy act, +That after houres, with sorrow chide vs not + + Rom. Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can, +It cannot counteruaile the exchange of ioy +That one short minute giues me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words. +Then Loue-deuouring death do what he dare, +It is inough. I may call her mine + + Fri. These violent delights haue violent endes, +And in their triumph: die like fire and powder; +Which as they kisse consume. The sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his owne deliciousnesse, +And in the taste confoundes the appetite. +Therefore Loue moderately, long Loue doth so, +Too swift arriues as tardie as too slow. +Enter Iuliet. + +Here comes the Lady. Oh so light a foot +Will nere weare out the euerlasting flint, +A Louer may bestride the Gossamours, +That ydles in the wanton Summer ayre, +And yet not fall, so light is vanitie + + Iul. Good euen to my ghostly Confessor + + Fri. Romeo shall thanke thee Daughter for vs both + + Iul. As much to him, else in his thanks too much + + Fri. Ah Iuliet, if the measure of thy ioy +Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more +To blason it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour ayre, and let rich musickes tongue, +Vnfold the imagin'd happinesse that both +Receiue in either, by this deere encounter + + Iul. Conceit more rich in matter then in words, +Brags of his substance, not of Ornament: +They are but beggers that can count their worth, +But my true Loue is growne to such excesse, +I cannot sum vp some of halfe my wealth + + Fri. Come, come with me, & we will make short worke, +For by your leaues, you shall not stay alone, +Till holy Church incorporate two in one. +Enter Mercutio, Benuolio, and men. + + Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire, +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad: +And if we meet, we shal not scape a brawle, for now these +hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring + + Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowes, that when he +enters the confines of a Tauerne, claps me his Sword vpon +the Table, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by +the operation of the second cup, drawes him on the Drawer, +when indeed there is no need + + Ben. Am I like such a Fellow? + Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Iacke in thy mood, +as any in Italie: and assoone moued to be moodie, and assoone +moodie to be mou'd + + Ben. And what too? + Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should haue +none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou +wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire +lesse in his beard, then thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a +man for cracking Nuts, hauing no other reason, but because +thou hast hasell eyes: what eye, but such an eye, +would spie out such a quarrell? thy head is full of quarrels, +as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin +beaten as addle as an egge for quarreling: thou hast quarrel'd +with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy Dog that hath laine asleepe in the Sun. Did'st +thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doublet +before Easter? with another, for tying his new shooes +with old Riband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quarrelling? + Ben. And I were so apt to quarell as thou art, any man +should buy the Fee-simple of my life, for an houre and a +quarter + + Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple. +Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others. + + Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets + + Mer. By my heele I care not + + Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speake to them. +Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you + + Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with +something, make it a word and a blow + + Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sir, and you +will giue me occasion + + Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without +giuing? + Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo + + Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? & +thou make Minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but discords: +heere's my fiddlesticke, heere's that shall make you +daunce. Come consort + + Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men, +Either withdraw vnto some priuate place, +Or reason coldly of your greeuances: +Or else depart, here all eies gaze on vs + + Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze. +I will not budge for no mans pleasure I. +Enter Romeo. + + Tib. Well peace be with you sir, here comes my man + + Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery. +Marry go before to field, heele be your follower, +Your worship in that sense, may call him man + + Tib. Romeo, the loue I beare thee, can affoord +No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine + + Rom. Tibalt, the reason that I haue to loue thee, +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: Villaine am I none; +Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not + + Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the iniuries +That thou hast done me, therefore turne and draw + + Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee, +But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise: +Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue, +And so good Capulet, which name I tender +As dearely as my owne, be satisfied + + Mer. O calme, dishonourable, vile submission: +Alla stucatho carries it away. +Tybalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke? + Tib. What wouldst thou haue with me? + Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine +liues, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you shall +vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you +pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make +hast, least mine be about your eares ere it be out + + Tib. I am for you + + Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp + + Mer. Come sir, your Passado + + Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons: +Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage, +Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes. +Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio. + +Exit Tybalt. + + Mer. I am hurt. +A plague a both the Houses, I am sped: +Is he gone and hath nothing? + Ben. What art thou hurt? + Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough, +Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon + + Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much + + Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a +Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to +morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd +I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses. +What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to +death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the +booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you betweene +vs? I was hurt vnder your arme + + Rom. I thought all for the best + + Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio, +Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses. +They haue made wormesmeat of me, +I haue it, and soundly to your Houses. +Enter. + + Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie, +My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt +In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd +With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre +Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet, +Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate, +And in my temper softned Valours steele. +Enter Benuolio. + + + Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead, +That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes, +Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth + + Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies depend, +This but begins, the wo others must end. +Enter Tybalt. + + Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe + + Rom. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine? +Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie, +And fire and Fury, be my conduct now. +Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe +That late thou gau'st me, for Mercutios soule +Is but a little way aboue our heads, +Staying for thine to keepe him companie: +Either thou or I, or both, must goe with him + + Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence + + Rom. This shall determine that. + +They fight. Tybalt falles. + + Ben. Romeo, away be gone: +The Citizens are vp, and Tybalt slaine, +Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away + + Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole + + Ben. Why dost thou stay? + +Exit Romeo. + +Enter Citizens. + + Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio? + Tibalt that Murtherer, which way ran he? + Ben. There lies that Tybalt + + Citi. Vp sir go with me: +I charge thee in the Princes names obey. +Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wiues and all. + + Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this Fray? + Ben. O Noble Prince, I can discouer all +The vnluckie Mannage of this fatall brall: +There lies the man slaine by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio + + Cap. Wi. Tybalt, my Cozin? O my Brothers Child, +O Prince, O Cozin, Husband, O the blood is spild +Of my deare kinsman. Prince as thou art true, +For bloud of ours, shed bloud of Mountague. +O Cozin, Cozin + + Prin. Benuolio, who began this Fray? + Ben. Tybalt here slaine, whom Romeo's hand did slay, +Romeo that spoke him faire, bid him bethinke +How nice the Quarrell was, and vrg'd withall +Your high displeasure: all this vttered, +With gentle breath, calme looke, knees humbly bow'd +Could not take truce with the vnruly spleene +Of Tybalts deafe to peace, but that he Tilts +With Peircing steele at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turnes deadly point to point, +And with a Martiall scorne, with one hand beates +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 then his tongue, +His aged arme, beats downe their fatall points, +And twixt them rushes, vnderneath whose arme, +An enuious thrust from Tybalt, hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled. +But by and by comes backe to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertained Reuenge, +And too't they goe like lightning, for ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slaine: +And as he fell, did Romeo turne and flie: +This is the truth, or let Benuolio die + + Cap. Wi. He is a kinsman to the Mountague, +Affection makes him false, he speakes not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this blacke strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for Iustice, which thou Prince must giue: +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not liue + + Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio, +Who now the price of his deare blood doth owe + + Cap. Not Romeo Prince, he was Mercutios Friend, +His fault concludes, but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt + + Prin. And for that offence, +Immediately we doe exile him hence: +I haue an interest in your hearts proceeding: +My bloud for your rude brawles doth lie a bleeding. +But Ile Amerce you with so strong a fine, +That you shall all repent the losse of mine. +It will be deafe to pleading and excuses, +Nor teares, nor prayers shall purchase our abuses. +Therefore vse none, let Romeo hence in hast, +Else when he is found, that houre is his last. +Beare hence his body, and attend our will: +Mercy not Murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Iuliet alone. + + Iul. Gallop apace, you fiery footed steedes, +Towards Phoebus lodging, such a Wagoner +As Phaeton would whip you to the west, +And bring in Cloudie night immediately. +Spred thy close Curtaine Loue-performing night, +That run-awayes eyes may wincke, and Romeo +Leape to these armes, vntalkt of and vnseene, +Louers can see to doe their Amorous rights, +And by their owne Beauties: or if Loue be blind, +It best agrees with night: come ciuill night, +Thou sober suted Matron all in blacke, +And learne me how to loose a winning match, +Plaid for a paire of stainlesse Maidenhoods, +Hood my vnman'd blood bayting in my Cheekes, +With thy Blacke mantle, till strange Loue grow bold, +Thinke true Loue acted simple modestie: +Come night, come Romeo, come thou day in night, +For thou wilt lie vpon the wings of night +Whiter then new Snow vpon a Rauens backe: +Come gentle night, come louing blackebrow'd night. +Giue me my Romeo, and when I shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little starres, +And he will make the Face of heauen so fine, +That all the world will be in Loue with night, +And pay no worship to the Garish Sun. +O I haue bought the Mansion of a Loue, +But not possest it, and though I am sold, +Not yet enioy'd, so tedious is this day, +As is the night before some Festiuall, +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not weare them, O here comes my Nurse: +Enter Nurse with cords. + +And she brings newes and euery tongue that speaks +But Romeos name, speakes heauenly eloquence: +Now Nurse, what newes? what hast thou there? +The Cords that Romeo bid thee fetch? + Nur. I, I, the Cords + + Iuli. Ay me, what newes? +Why dost thou wring thy hands + + Nur. A weladay, hee's dead, hee's dead, +We are vndone Lady, we are vndone. +Alacke the day, hee's gone, hee's kil'd, he's dead + + Iul. Can heauen be so enuious? + Nur. Romeo can, +Though heauen cannot. O Romeo, Romeo. +Who euer would haue thought it Romeo + + Iuli. What diuell art thou, +That dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismall hell, +Hath Romeo slaine himselfe? say thou but I, +And that bare vowell I shall poyson more +Then the death-darting eye of Cockatrice, +I am not I, if there be such an I. +Or those eyes shot, that makes thee answere I: +If he be slaine say I, or if not, no. +Briefe, sounds, determine of my weale or wo + + Nur. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, +God saue the marke, here on his manly brest, +A pitteous Coarse, a bloody piteous Coarse: +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood, +All in gore blood I sounded at the sight + + Iul. O breake my heart, +Poore Banckrout breake at once, +To prison eyes, nere looke on libertie. +Vile earth to earth resigne, end motion here, +And thou and Romeo presse on heauie beere + + Nur. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best Friend I had: +O curteous Tybalt honest Gentleman, +That euer I should liue to see thee dead + + Iul. What storme is this that blowes so contrarie? +Is Romeo slaughtred? and is Tybalt dead? +My dearest Cozen, and my dearer Lord: +Then dreadfull Trumpet sound the generall doome, +For who is liuing, if those two are gone? + Nur. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished, +Romeo that kil'd him, he is banished + + Iul. O God! +Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalts blood +It did, it did, alas the day, it did + + Nur. O Serpent heart hid with a flowring face + + Iul. Did euer Dragon keepe so faire a Caue? +Beautifull Tyrant, fiend Angelicall: +Rauenous Doue-feather'd Rauen, +Woluish-rauening Lambe, +Dispised substance of Diuinest show: +Iust opposite to what thou iustly seem'st, +A dimne Saint, an Honourable Villaine: +O Nature! what had'st thou to doe in hell, +When thou did'st bower the spirit of a fiend +In mortall paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was euer booke containing such vile matter +So fairely bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous Pallace + + Nur. There's no trust, no faith, no honestie in men, +All periur'd, all forsworne, all naught, all dissemblers, +Ah where's my man? giue me some Aqua-vitae? +These griefes, these woes, these sorrowes make me old: +Shame come to Romeo + + Iul. Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish, he was not borne to shame: +Vpon his brow shame is asham'd to sit; +For 'tis a throane where Honour may be Crown'd +Sole Monarch of the vniuersall earth: +O what a beast was I to chide him? + Nur. Will you speake well of him, +That kil'd your Cozen? + Iul. Shall I speake ill of him that is my husband? +Ah poore my Lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I thy three houres wife haue mangled it. +But wherefore Villaine did'st thou kill my Cozin? +That Villaine Cozin would haue kil'd my husband: +Backe foolish teares, backe to your natiue spring, +Your tributarie drops belong to woe, +Which you mistaking offer vp to ioy: +My husband liues that Tibalt would haue slaine, +And Tibalt dead that would haue slaine my husband: +All this is comfort, wherefore weepe I then? +Some words there was worser then Tybalts death +That murdered me, I would forget it feine, +But oh, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deedes to sinners minds, +Tybalt is dead and Romeo banished: +That banished, that one word banished, +Hath slaine ten thousand Tibalts: Tibalts death +Was woe inough if it had ended there: +Or if sower woe delights in fellowship, +And needly will be rankt with other griefes, +Why followed not when she said Tibalts dead, +Thy Father or thy Mother, nay or both, +Which moderne lamentation might haue mou'd. +But which a rere-ward following Tybalts death +Romeo is banished to speake that word, +Is Father, Mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Iuliet, +All slaine, all dead: Romeo is banished, +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that words death, no words can that woe sound. +Where is my Father and my Mother Nurse? + Nur. Weeping and wailing ouer Tybalts Coarse, +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither + + Iu. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shal be spent +When theirs are drie for Romeo's banishment. +Take vp those Cordes, poore ropes you are beguil'd, +Both you and I for Romeo is exild: +He made you for a high-way to my bed, +But I a Maid, die Maiden widowed. +Come Cord, come Nurse, Ile to my wedding bed, +And death not Romeo, take my Maiden head + + Nur. Hie to your Chamber, Ile find Romeo +To comfort you, I wot well where he is: +Harke ye your Romeo will be heere at night, +Ile to him, he is hid at Lawrence Cell + + Iul. O find him, giue this Ring to my true Knight, +And bid him come, to take his last farewell. + +Exit + +Enter Frier and Romeo. + + Fri. Romeo come forth, +Come forth thou fearfull man, +Affliction is enamor'd of thy parts +And thou art wedded to calamitie, + Rom. Father what newes? +What is the Princes Doome? +What sorrow craues acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + Fri. Too familiar +Is my deare Sonne with such sowre Company +I bring thee tydings of the Princes Doome + + Rom. What lesse then Doomesday, +Is the Princes Doome? + Fri. A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips, +Not bodies death, but bodies banishment + + Rom. Ha, banishment? be mercifull, say death: +For exile hath more terror in his looke, +Much more then death: do not say banishment + + Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide + + Rom. There is no world without Verona walles, +But Purgatorie, Torture, hell it selfe: +Hence banished, is banisht from the world, +And worlds exile is death. Then banished, +Is death, mistearm'd, calling death banished, +Thou cut'st my head off with a golden Axe, +And smilest vpon the stroke that murders me + + Fri. O deadly sin, O rude vnthankefulnesse! +Thy falt our Law calles death, but the kind Prince +Taking thy part, hath rusht aside the Law, +And turn'd that blacke word death, to banishment. +This is deare mercy, and thou seest it not + + Rom. 'Tis Torture and not mercy, heauen is here +Where Iuliet liues, and euery Cat and Dog, +And little Mouse, euery vnworthy thing +Liue here in Heauen and may looke on her, +But Romeo may not. More Validitie, +More Honourable state, more Courtship liues +In carrion Flies, then Romeo: they may seaze +On the white wonder of deare Iuliets hand, +And steale immortall blessing from her lips, +Who euen in pure and vestall modestie +Still blush, as thinking their owne kisses sin. +This may Flies doe, when I from this must flie, +And saist thou yet, that exile is not death? +But Romeo may not, hee is banished. +Had'st thou no poyson mixt, no sharpe ground knife, +No sudden meane of death, though nere so meane, +But banished to kill me? Banished? +O Frier, the damned vse that word in hell: +Howlings attends it, how hast then the hart +Being a Diuine, a Ghostly Confessor, +A Sin-Absoluer, and my Friend profest: +To mangle me with that word, banished? + Fri. Then fond Mad man, heare me speake + + Rom. O thou wilt speake againe of banishment + + Fri. Ile giue thee Armour to keepe off that word, +Aduersities sweete milke, Philosophie, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished + + Rom. Yet banished? hang vp Philosophie: +Vnlesse Philosophie can make a Iuliet, +Displant a Towne, reuerse a Princes Doome, +It helpes not, it preuailes not, talke no more + + Fri. O then I see, that Mad men haue no eares + + Rom. How should they, +When wisemen haue no eyes? + Fri. Let me dispaire with thee of thy estate, + Rom. Thou can'st not speake of that y dost not feele, +Wert thou as young as Iuliet my Loue: +An houre but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me, and like me banished, +Then mightest thou speake, +Then mightest thou teare thy hayre, +And fall vpon the ground as I doe now, +Taking the measure of an vnmade graue. +Enter Nurse, and knockes. + + Frier. Arise one knockes, +Good Romeo hide thy selfe + + Rom. Not I, +Vnlesse the breath of Hartsicke groanes +Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocke + + Fri. Harke how they knocke: +(Who's there) Romeo arise, +Thou wilt be taken, stay a while, stand vp: + +Knocke. + +Run to my study: by and by, Gods will +What simplenesse is this: I come, I come. + +Knocke. + +Who knocks so hard? +Whence come you? what's your will? +Enter Nurse. + + Nur. Let me come in, +And you shall know my errand: +I come from Lady Iuliet + + Fri. Welcome then + + Nur. O holy Frier, O tell me holy Frier, +Where's my Ladies Lord? where's Romeo? + Fri. There on the ground, +With his owne teares made drunke + + Nur. O he is euen in my Mistresse case, +Iust in her case. O wofull simpathy: +Pittious predicament, euen so lies she, +Blubbring and weeping, weeping and blubbring, +Stand vp, stand vp, stand and you be a man, +For Iuliets sake, for her sake rise and stand: +Why should you fall into so deepe an O + + Rom. Nurse + + Nur. Ah sir, ah sir, deaths the end of all + + Rom. Speak'st thou of Iuliet? how is it with her? +Doth not she thinke me an old Murtherer, +Now I haue stain'd the Childhood of our ioy, +With blood remoued, but little from her owne? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what sayes +My conceal'd Lady to our conceal'd Loue? + Nur. Oh she sayes nothing sir, but weeps and weeps, +And now fals on her bed, and then starts vp, +And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries, +And then downe falls againe + + Ro. As if that name shot from the dead leuell of a Gun, +Did murder her, as that names cursed hand +Murdred her kinsman. Oh tell me Frier, tell me, +In what vile part of this Anatomie +Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sacke +The hatefull Mansion + + Fri. Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy forme cries out thou art: +Thy teares are womanish, thy wild acts denote +The vnreasonable Furie of a beast. +Vnseemely woman, in a seeming man, +And ill beseeming beast in seeming both, +Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slaine Tybalt? wilt thou slay thy selfe? +And slay thy Lady, that in thy life lies, +By doing damned hate vpon thy selfe? +Why rayl'st thou on thy birth? the heauen and earth? +Since birth, and heauen and earth, all three do meete +In thee at once, which thou at once would'st loose. +Fie, fie, thou sham'st thy shape, thy loue, thy wit, +Which like a Vsurer abound'st in all: +And vsest none in that true vse indeed, +Which should bedecke thy shape, thy loue, thy wit: +Thy Noble shape, is but a forme of waxe, +Digressing from the Valour of a man, +Thy deare Loue sworne but hollow periurie, +Killing that Loue which thou hast vow'd to cherish. +Thy wit, that Ornament, to shape and Loue, +Mishapen in the conduct of them both: +Like powder in a skillesse Souldiers flaske, +Is set a fire by thine owne ignorance, +And thou dismembred with thine owne defence. +What, rowse thee man, thy Iuliet is aliue, +For whose deare sake thou wast but lately dead. +There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt, there art thou happie. +The law that threatned death became thy Friend. +And turn'd it to exile, there art thou happy. +A packe or blessing light vpon thy backe, +Happinesse Courts thee in her best array, +But like a mishaped and sullen wench, +Thou puttest vp thy Fortune and thy Loue: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Goe get thee to thy Loue as was decreed, +Ascend her Chamber, hence and comfort her: +But looke thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not passe to Mantua, +Where thou shalt liue till we can finde a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your Friends, +Beg pardon of thy Prince, and call thee backe, +With twenty hundred thousand times more ioy +Then thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Goe before Nurse, commend me to thy Lady, +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heauy sorrow makes them apt vnto. +Romeo is comming + + Nur. O Lord, I could haue staid here all night, +To heare good counsell: oh what learning is! +My Lord Ile tell my Lady you will come + + Rom. Do so, and bid my Sweete prepare to chide + + Nur. Heere sir, a Ring she bid me giue you sir: +Hie you, make hast, for it growes very late + + Rom. How well my comfort is reuiu'd by this + + Fri. Go hence, +Goodnight, and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the breake of day disguis'd from hence, +Soiourne in Mantua, Ile find out your man, +And he shall signifie from time to time, +Euery good hap to you, that chaunces heere: +Giue me thy hand, 'tis late, farewell, goodnight + + Rom. But that a ioy past ioy, calls out on me, +It were a griefe, so briefe to part with thee: +Farewell. + +Exeunt. + +Enter old Capulet, his Wife and Paris. + + Cap. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily, +That we haue had no time to moue our Daughter: +Looke you, she Lou'd her kinsman Tybalt dearely, +And so did I. Well, we were borne to die. +'Tis very late, she'l not come downe to night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would haue bin a bed an houre ago + + Par. These times of wo, affoord no times to wooe: +Madam goodnight, commend me to your Daughter + + Lady. I will, and know her mind early to morrow, +To night, she is mewed vp to her heauinesse + + Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my Childes loue: I thinke 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 Sonne Paris Loue, +And bid her, marke you me, on Wendsday next, +But soft, what day is this? + Par. Monday my Lord + + Cap. Monday, ha ha: well Wendsday is too soone, +A Thursday let it be: a Thursday tell her, +She shall be married to this Noble Earle: +Will you be ready? do you like this hast? +Weele keepe no great adoe, a Friend or two, +For harke you, Tybalt being slaine so late, +It may be thought we held him carelesly, +Being our kinsman, if we reuell much: +Therefore weele haue some halfe a dozen Friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + Paris. My Lord, +I would that Thursday were to morrow + + Cap. Well, get you gone, a Thursday, be it then: +Go you to Iuliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her wife, against this wedding day. +Farewell my Lord, light to my Chamber hoa, +Afore me, it is so late, that we may call it early by and by, +Goodnight. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft. + + Iul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day: +It was the Nightingale, and not the Larke, +That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare, +Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree, +Beleeue me Loue, it was the Nightingale + + Rom. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne: +No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes +Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East: +Nights Candles are burnt out, and Iocond day +Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops, +I must be gone and liue, or stay and die + + Iul. Yond light is not daylight, I know it I: +It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a Torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua. +Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not be gone, + Rom. Let me be tane, let me be put to death, +I am content, so thou wilt haue it so. +Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye, +'Tis but the pale reflexe of Cinthias brow. +Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate +The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads, +I haue more care to stay, then will to go: +Come death and welcome, Iuliet wills it so. +How ist my soule, lets talke, it is not day + + Iuli. It is, it is, hie hence be gone away: +It is the Larke that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh Discords, and vnpleasing Sharpes. +Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision; +This doth not so: for she diuideth vs. +Some say, the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes, +O now I would they had chang'd voyces too: +Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray, +Hunting thee hence, with Hunts-vp to the day, +O now be gone, more light and it light growes + + Rom. More light & light, more darke & darke our woes. +Enter Madam and Nurse. + + Nur. Madam + + Iul. Nurse + + Nur. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber, +The day is broke, be wary, looke about + + Iul. Then window let day in, and let life out + + Rom. Farewell, farewell, one kisse and Ile descend + + Iul. Art thou gone so? Loue, Lord, ay Husband, Friend, +I must heare from thee euery day in the houre, +For in a minute there are many dayes, +O by this count I shall be much in yeares, +Ere I againe behold my Romeo + + Rom. Farewell: +I will omit no oportunitie, +That may conuey my greetings Loue, to thee + + Iul. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe? + Rom. I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serue +For sweet discourses in our time to come + + Iuliet. O God! I haue an ill Diuining soule, +Me thinkes I see thee now, thou art so lowe, +As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe, +Either my eye-sight failes, or thou look'st pale + + Rom. And trust me Loue, in my eye so do you: +Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adue, adue. +Enter. + + Iul. 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 keepe him long, +But send him backe. +Enter Mother. + + Lad. Ho Daughter, are you vp? + Iul. Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother. +Is she not downe so late, or vp so early? +What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + Lad. Why how now Iuliet? + Iul. Madam I am not well + + Lad. Euermore weeping for your Cozins death? +What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares? +And if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him liue: +Therefore haue done, some griefe shewes much of Loue, +But much of griefe, shewes still some want of wit + + Iul. Yet let me weepe, for such a feeling losse + + Lad. So shall you feele the losse, but not the Friend +Which you weepe for + + Iul. Feeling so the losse, +I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend + + La. Well Girle, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him + + Iul. What Villaine, Madam? + Lad. That same Villaine Romeo + + Iul. Villaine and he, be many miles assunder: +God pardon, I doe with all my heart: +And yet no man like he, doth grieue my heart + + Lad. That is because the Traitor liues + + Iul. I Madam from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my Cozins death + + Lad. We will haue vengeance for it, feare thou not. +Then weepe no more, Ile send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banisht Run-agate doth liue, +Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soone keepe Tybalt company: +And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied + + Iul. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him. Dead +Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext: +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To beare a poyson, I would temper it; +That Romeo should vpon receit thereof, +Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors +To heare him nam'd, and cannot come to him, +To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin, +Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him + + Mo. Find thou the meanes, and Ile find such a man. +But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle + + Iul. And ioy comes well, in such a needy time, +What are they, beseech your Ladyship? + Mo. Well, well, thou hast a carefull Father Child? +One who to put thee from thy heauinesse, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy, +That thou expects not, nor I lookt not for + + Iul. Madam in happy time, what day is this? + Mo. Marry my Child, early next Thursday morne, +The gallant, young, and Noble Gentleman, +The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church, +Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride + + Iul. Now by Saint Peters Church, and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride. +I wonder at this hast, that I must wed +Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe: +I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam, +I will not marrie yet, and when I doe, I sweare +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate +Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed + + Mo. Here comes your Father, tell him so your selfe, +And see how he will take it at your hands. +Enter Capulet and Nurse. + + Cap. When the Sun sets, the earth doth drizzle deaw +But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne, +It raines downright. +How now? A Conduit Gyrle, what still in teares? +Euermore showring in one little body? +Thou counterfaits a Barke, a Sea, a Wind: +For still thy eyes, which I may call the Sea, +Do ebbe and flow with teares, the Barke thy body is +Sayling in this salt floud, the windes thy sighes, +Who raging with the teares and they with them, +Without a sudden calme will ouer set +Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife? +Haue you deliuered to her our decree? + Lady. I sir; +But she will none, she giues you thankes, +I would the foole were married to her graue + + Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with you wife, +How, will she none? doth she not giue vs thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Vnworthy as she is, that we haue wrought +So worthy a Gentleman, to be her Bridegroome + Iul. Not proud you haue, +But thankfull that you haue: +Proud can I neuer be of what I haue, +But thankfull euen for hate, that is meant Loue + + Cap. How now? +How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this? +Proud, and I thanke you: and I thanke you not. +Thanke me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church: +Or I will drag thee, on a Hurdle thither. +Out you greene sicknesse carrion, out you baggage, +You tallow face + + Lady. Fie, fie, what are you mad? + Iul. Good Father, I beseech you on my knees +Heare me with patience, but to speake a word + + Fa. Hang thee young baggage, disobedient wretch, +I tell thee what, get thee to Church a Thursday, +Or neuer after looke me in the face. +Speake not, reply not, do not answere me. +My fingers itch, wife: we scarce thought vs blest, +That God had lent vs but this onely Child, +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we haue a curse in hauing her: +Out on her Hilding + + Nur. God in heauen blesse her, +You are too blame my Lord to rate her so + + Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue, +Good Prudence, smatter with your gossip, go + + Nur. I speak no treason, +Father, O Godigoden, +May not one speake? + Fa. Peace you mumbling foole, +Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles +For here we need it not + + La. You are too hot + + Fa. Gods bread, it makes me mad: +Day, night, houre, ride, time, worke, play, +Alone in companie, still my care hath bin +To haue her matcht, and hauing now prouided +A Gentleman of Noble Parentage, +Of faire Demeanes, Youthfull, and Nobly Allied, +Stuft as they say with Honourable parts, +Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man, +And then to haue a wretched puling foole, +A whining mammet, in her Fortunes tender, +To answer, Ile not wed, I cannot Loue: +I am too young, I pray you pardon me. +But, and you will not wed, Ile pardon you. +Graze where you will, you shall not house with me: +Looke too't, thinke on't, I do not vse to iest. +Thursday is neere, lay hand on heart, aduise, +And you be mine, Ile giue you to my Friend: +And you be not, hang, beg, starue, die in the streets, +For by my soule, Ile nere acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good: +Trust too't, bethinke you, Ile not be forsworne +Enter. + + Iuli. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes, +That sees into the bottome of my griefe? +O sweet my Mother cast me not away, +Delay this marriage, for a month, a weeke, +Or if you do not, make the Bridall bed +In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies + + Mo. Talke not to me, for Ile not speake a word, +Do as thou wilt, for I haue done with thee. +Enter. + + Iul. O God! +O Nurse, how shall this be preuented? +My Husband is on earth, my faith in heauen, +How shall that faith returne againe to earth, +Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen, +By leauing earth? Comfort me, counsaile me: +Alacke, alacke, that heauen should practise stratagems +Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe. +What saist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy? +Some comfort Nurse + + Nur. Faith here it is, +Romeo is banished, and all the world to nothing, +That he dares nere come backe to challenge you: +Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then since the case so stands as now it doth, +I thinke it best you married with the Countie, +O hee's a Louely Gentleman: +Romeos a dish-clout to him: an Eagle Madam +Hath not so greene, so quicke, so faire an eye +As Paris hath, beshrow my very heart, +I thinke 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 liuing here and you no vse of him + + Iul. Speakest thou from thy heart? + Nur. And from my soule too, +Or else beshrew them both + + Iul. Amen + + Nur. What? + Iul. Well, thou hast comforted me marue'lous much, +Go in, and tell my Lady I am gone, +Hauing displeas'd my Father, to Lawrence Cell, +To make confession, and to be absolu'd + + Nur. Marrie I will, and this is wisely done + + Iul. Auncient damnation, O most wicked fiend! +It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne, +Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue +Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare, +So many thousand times? Go Counsellor, +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twaine: +Ile to the Frier to know his remedie, +If all else faile, my selfe haue power to die. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Frier and Countie Paris. + + Fri. On Thursday sir? the time is very short + + Par. My Father Capulet will haue it so, +And I am nothing slow to slack his hast + + Fri. You say you do not know the Ladies mind? +Vneuen is the course, I like it not + + Pa. Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death, +And therfore haue I little talke of Loue, +For Venus smiles not in a house of teares. +Now sir, her Father counts it dangerous +That she doth giue her sorrow so much sway: +And in his wisedome, hasts our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her teares, +Which too much minded by her selfe alone, +May be put from her by societie. +Now doe you know the reason of this hast? + Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Looke sir, here comes the Lady towards my Cell. +Enter Iuliet. + + Par. Happily met, my Lady and my wife + + Iul. That may be sir, when I may be a wife + + Par. That may be, must be Loue, on Thursday next + + Iul. What must be shall be + + Fri. That's a certaine text + + Par. Come you to make confession to this Father? + Iul. To answere that, I should confesse to you + + Par. Do not denie to him, that you Loue me + + Iul. I will confesse to you that I Loue him + + Par. So will ye, I am sure that you Loue me + + Iul. If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your backe, then to your face + + Par. Poore soule, thy face is much abus'd with teares + + Iul. The teares haue got small victorie by that: +For it was bad inough before their spight + + Pa. Thou wrong'st it more then teares with that report + + Iul. That is no slaunder sir, which is a truth, +And what I spake, I spake it to thy face + + Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slaundred it + + Iul. It may be so, for it is not mine owne. +Are you at leisure, Holy Father now, +Or shall I come to you at euening Masse? + Fri. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now. +My Lord you must intreat the time alone + + Par. Godsheild: I should disturbe Deuotion, +Iuliet, on Thursday early will I rowse yee, +Till then adue, and keepe this holy kisse. + +Exit Paris. + + Iul. O shut the doore, and when thou hast done so, +Come weepe with me, past hope, past care, past helpe + + Fri. O Iuliet, I alreadie know thy griefe, +It streames me past the compasse of my wits: +I heare thou must and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this Countie + + Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this, +Vnlesse thou tell me how I may preuent it: +If in thy wisedome, thou canst giue no helpe, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife, Ile helpe it presently. +God ioyn'd my heart, and Romeos, thou our hands, +And ere this hand by thee to Romeo seal'd: +Shall be the Labell to another Deede, +Or my true heart with trecherous reuolt, +Turne to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore out of thy long experien'st time, +Giue me some present counsell, or behold +Twixt my extreames and me, this bloody knife +Shall play the vmpeere, arbitrating that, +Which the commission of thy yeares 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, speake not of remedy + + Fri. Hold Daughter, I doe spie a kind of hope, +Which craues as desperate an execution, +As that is desperate which we would preuent. +If rather then to marrie Countie Paris +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thy selfe, +Then is it likely thou wilt vndertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That coap'st with death himselfe, to scape fro it: +And if thou dar'st, Ile giue thee remedie + + Iul. Oh bid me leape, rather then marrie Paris, +From of the Battlements of any Tower, +Or walke in theeuish waies, or bid me lurke +Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares +Or hide me nightly in a Charnell house, +Orecouered quite with dead mens ratling bones, +With reckie shankes and yellow chappels sculls: +Or bid me go into a new made graue, +And hide me with a dead man in his graue, +Things that to heare them told, haue made me tremble, +And I will doe it without feare or doubt, +To liue an vnstained wife to my sweet Loue + + Fri. Hold then: goe home, be merrie, giue consent, +To marrie Paris: wensday is to morrow, +To morrow night looke that thou lie alone, +Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy Chamber: +Take thou this Violl being then in bed, +And this distilling liquor drinke thou off, +When presently through all thy veines shall run, +A cold and drowsie humour: for no pulse +Shall keepe his natiue progresse, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath shall testifie thou liuest, +The Roses in thy lips and cheekes shall fade +To many ashes, the eyes windowes fall +Like death when he shut vp the day of life: +Each part depriu'd of supple gouernment, +Shall stiffe and starke, and cold appeare like death, +And in this borrowed likenesse of shrunke death +Thou shalt continue two and forty houres, +And then awake, as from a pleasant sleepe. +Now when the Bridegroome in the morning comes, +To rowse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then as the manner of our country is, +In thy best Robes vncouer'd on the Beere, +Be borne to buriall in thy kindreds graue: +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault, +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie, +In the meane time against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my Letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come, and that very night +Shall Romeo beare thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame, +If no inconstant toy nor womanish feare, +Abate thy valour in the acting it + + Iul. Giue me, giue me, O tell me not of care + + Fri. Hold get you gone, be strong and prosperous: +In this resolue, Ile send a Frier with speed +To Mantua with my Letters to thy Lord + + Iu. Loue giue me strength, +And the strength shall helpe afford: +Farewell deare father. + +Exit + +Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Seruing men, two or +three. + + Cap. So many guests inuite as here are writ, +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning Cookes + + Ser. You shall haue none ill sir, for Ile trie if they can +licke their fingers + + Cap. How canst thou trie them so? + Ser. Marrie sir, 'tis an ill Cooke that cannot licke his +owne fingers: therefore he that cannot licke his fingers +goes not with me + + Cap. Go be gone, we shall be much vnfurnisht for this +time: what is my Daughter gone to Frier Lawrence? + Nur. I forsooth + + Cap. Well he may chance to do some good on her, +A peeuish selfe-wild harlotry it is. +Enter Iuliet. + + Nur. See where she comes from shrift +With merrie looke + + Cap. How now my headstrong, +Where haue you bin gadding? + Iul. Where I haue learnt me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition: +To you and your behests, and am enioyn'd +By holy Lawrence, to fall prostrate here, +To beg your pardon: pardon I beseech you, +Henceforward I am euer rul'd by you + + Cap. Send for the Countie, goe tell him of this, +Ile haue this knot knit vp to morrow morning + + Iul. I met the youthfull Lord at Lawrence Cell, +And gaue him what becomed Loue I might, +Not stepping ore the bounds of modestie + + Cap. Why I am glad on't, this is well, stand vp, +This is as't should be, let me see the County: +I marrie go I say, and fetch him hither. +Now afore God, this reueren'd holy Frier, +All our whole Cittie is much bound to him + + Iul. Nurse will you goe with me into my Closet, +To helpe me sort such needfull ornaments, +As you thinke fit to furnish me to morrow? + Mo. No not till Thursday, there's time inough + + Fa. Go Nurse, go with her, +Weele to Church to morrow. + +Exeunt. Iuliet and Nurse. + + Mo. We shall be short in our prouision, +'Tis now neere night + + Fa. Tush, I will stirre about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee wife: +Go thou to Iuliet, helpe to decke vp her, +Ile not to bed to night, let me alone: +Ile play the huswife for this once. What ho? +They are all forth, well I will walke my selfe +To Countie Paris, to prepare him vp +Against to morrow, my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same way-ward Gyrle is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt. Father and Mother. + +Enter Iuliet and Nurse. + + Iul. I those attires are best, but gentle Nurse +I pray thee leaue me to my selfe to night: +For I haue need of many Orysons, +To moue the heauens to smile vpon my state, +Which well thou know'st, is crosse and full of sin. +Enter Mother. + + Mo. What are you busie ho? need you my help? + Iul. No Madam, we haue cul'd such necessaries +As are behoouefull for our state to morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone; +And let the Nurse this night sit vp with you, +For I am sure, you haue your hands full all, +In this so sudden businesse + + Mo. Goodnight. +Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. + +Exeunt. + + Iul. Farewell: +God knowes when we shall meete againe. +I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines, +That almost freezes vp the heate of fire: +Ile call them backe againe to comfort me. +Nurse, what should she do here? +My dismall Sceane, I needs must act alone: +Come Viall, what if this mixture do not worke at all? +Shall I be married then to morrow morning? +No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there, +What if it be a poyson which the Frier +Subtilly hath ministred to haue me dead, +Least in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I feare it is, and yet me thinkes it should not, +For he hath still beene tried a holy man. +How, if when I am laid into the Tombe, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeeme me? There's a fearefull point: +Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault? +To whose foule mouth no healthsome ayre breaths in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes. +Or if I liue, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place, +As in a Vaulte, an ancient receptacle, +Where for these many hundred yeeres the bones +Of all my buried Auncestors are packt, +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but greene in earth, +Lies festring in his shrow'd, where as they say, +At some houres in the night, Spirits resort: +Alacke, alacke, is it not like that I +So early waking, what with loathsome smels, +And shrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth, +That liuing mortalls hearing them, run mad. +O if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Inuironed with all these hidious feares, +And madly play with my forefathers ioynts? +And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his shrow'd? +And in this rage, with some great kinsmans bone, +As (with a club) dash out my desperate braines. +O looke, me thinks I see my Cozins Ghost, +Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body +Vpon my Rapiers point: stay Tybalt, stay; +Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drinke: I drinke to thee. +Enter Lady of the house, and Nurse. + + Lady. Hold, +Take these keies, and fetch more spices Nurse + + Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastrie. +Enter old Capulet. + + Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir, +The second Cocke hath Crow'd, +The Curphew Bell hath rung, 'tis three a clocke: +Looke to the bakte meates, good Angelica, +Spare not for cost + + Nur. Go you Cot-queane, go, +Get you to bed, faith youle be sicke to morrow +For this nights watching + + Cap. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now +All night for lesse cause, and nere beene sicke + + La. I you haue bin a Mouse-hunt in your time, +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exit Lady and Nurse. + + Cap. A iealous hood, a iealous hood, +Now fellow, what there? +Enter three or foure with spits, and logs, and baskets. + + Fel. Things for the Cooke sir, but I know not what + + Cap. Make hast, make hast, sirrah, fetch drier Logs. +Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are + + Fel. I haue a head sir, that will find out logs, +And neuer trouble Peter for the matter + + Cap. Masse and well said, a merrie horson, ha, +Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father, 'tis day. + +Play Musicke + +The Countie will be here with Musicke straight, +For so he said he would, I heare him neere, +Nurse, wife, what ho? what Nurse I say? +Enter Nurse. + +Go waken Iuliet, go and trim her vp, +Ile go and chat with Paris: hie, make hast, +Make hast, the Bridegroome, he is come already: +Make hast I say + + Nur. Mistris, what Mistris? Iuliet? Fast I warrant her she. +Why Lambe, why Lady? fie you sluggabed, +Why Loue I say? Madam, sweet heart: why Bride? +What not a word? You take your peniworths now. +Sleepe for a weeke, for the next night I warrant +The Countie Paris hath set vp his rest, +That you shall rest but little, God forgiue me: +Marrie and Amen: how sound is she a sleepe? +I must needs wake her: Madam, Madam, Madam, +I, let the Countie take you in your bed, +Heele fright you vp yfaith. Will it not be? +What drest, and in your clothes, and downe againe? +I must needs wake you: Lady, Lady, Lady? +Alas, alas, helpe, helpe, my Ladyes dead, +Oh weladay, that euer I was borne, +Some Aqua-vitæ ho, my Lord, my Lady? + Mo. What noise is heere? +Enter Mother. + + Nur. O lamentable day + + Mo. What is the matter? + Nur. Looke, looke, oh heauie day + + Mo. O me, O me, my Child, my onely life: +Reuiue, looke vp, or I will die with thee: +Helpe, helpe, call helpe. +Enter Father. + + Fa. For shame bring Iuliet forth, her Lord is come + + Nur. Shee's dead: deceast, shee's dead: alacke the day + + M. Alacke the day, shee's dead, shee's dead, shee's dead + + Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas shee's cold, +Her blood is setled and her ioynts are stiffe: +Life and these lips haue long bene seperated: +Death lies on her like an vntimely frost +Vpon the swetest flower of all the field + + Nur. O Lamentable day! + Mo. O wofull time + + Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile, +Ties vp my tongue, and will not let me speake. +Enter Frier and the Countie. + + Fri. Come, is the Bride ready to go to Church? + Fa. Ready to go, but neuer to returne. +O Sonne, the night before thy wedding day, +Hath death laine with thy wife: there she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowred by him. +Death is my Sonne in law, death is my Heire, +My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die, +And leaue him all life liuing, all is deaths + + Pa. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face, +And doth it giue me such a sight as this? + Mo. Accur'st, vnhappie, wretched hatefull day, +Most miserable houre, that ere time saw +In lasting labour of his Pilgrimage. +But one, poore one, one poore and louing Child, +But one thing to reioyce and solace in, +And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight + + Nur. O wo, O wofull, wofull, wofull day, +Most lamentable day, most wofull day, +That euer, euer, I did yet behold. +O day, O day, O day, O hatefull day, +Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this: +O wofull day, O wofull day + + Pa. Beguild, diuorced, wronged, spighted, slaine, +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruell, cruell thee, quite ouerthrowne: +O loue, O life; not life, but loue in death + + Fat. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martir'd, kil'd, +Vncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now +To murther, murther our solemnitie? +O Child, O Child; my soule, and not my Child, +Dead art thou, alacke my Child is dead, +And with my Child, my ioyes are buried + + Fri. Peace ho for shame, confusions: Care liues not +In these confusions, heauen and your selfe +Had part in this faire Maid, now heauen hath all, +And all the better is it for the Maid: +Your part in her, you could not keepe from death, +But heauen keepes his part in eternall life: +The most you sought was her promotion, +For 'twas your heauen, she shouldst be aduan'st, +And weepe ye now, seeing she is aduan'st +Aboue the Cloudes, as high as Heauen it selfe? +O in this loue, you loue your Child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +Shee's not well married, that liues married long, +But shee's best married, that dies married yong. +Drie vp your teares, and sticke your Rosemarie +On this faire Coarse, and as the custome is, +And in her best array beare her to Church: +For though some Nature bids all vs lament, +Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment + + Fa. All things that we ordained Festiuall, +Turne from their office to blacke Funerall: +Our instruments to melancholy Bells, +Our wedding cheare, to a sad buriall Feast: +Our solemne Hymnes, to sullen Dyrges change: +Our Bridall flowers serue for a buried Coarse: +And all things change them to the contrarie + + Fri. Sir go you in; and Madam, go with him, +And go sir Paris, euery one prepare +To follow this faire Coarse vnto her graue: +The heauens do lowre vpon you, for some ill: +Moue them no more, by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt. + + Mu. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone + + Nur. Honest goodfellowes: Ah put vp, put vp, +For well you know, this is a pitifull case + + Mu. I by my troth, the case may be amended. +Enter Peter. + + Pet. Musitions, oh Musitions, +Hearts ease, hearts ease, +O, and you will haue me liue, play hearts ease + + Mu. Why hearts ease; + Pet. O Musitions, +Because my heart it selfe plaies, my heart is full + + Mu. Not a dump we, 'tis no time to play now + + Pet. You will not then? + Mu. No + + Pet. I will then giue it you soundly + + Mu. What will you giue vs? + Pet. No money on my faith, but the gleeke. +I will giue you the Minstrell + + Mu. Then will I giue you the Seruing creature + + Peter. Then will I lay the seruing Creatures Dagger +on your pate. I will carie no Crochets, Ile Re you, Ile Fa +you, do you note me? + Mu. And you Re vs, and Fa vs, you Note vs + + 2.M. Pray you put vp your Dagger, +And put out your wit. +Then haue at you with my wit + + Peter. I will drie-beate you with an yron wit, +And put vp my yron Dagger. +Answere me like men: +When griping griefes the heart doth wound, then Musicke +with her siluer sound. +Why siluer sound? why Musicke with her siluer sound? +what say you Simon Catling? + Mu. Mary sir, because siluer hath a sweet sound + + Pet. Pratest, what say you Hugh Rebicke? + 2.M. I say siluer sound, because Musitions sound for siluer + Pet. Pratest to, what say you Iames Sound-Post? + 3.Mu. Faith I know not what to say + + Pet. O I cry you mercy, you are the Singer. +I will say for you; it is Musicke with her siluer sound, +Because Musitions haue no gold for sounding: +Then Musicke with her siluer sound, with speedy helpe +doth lend redresse. +Enter. + + Mu. What a pestilent knaue is this same? + M.2. Hang him Iacke, come weele in here, tarrie for +the Mourners, and stay dinner. +Enter. + +Enter Romeo. + + Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe, +My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand: +My bosomes L[ord]. sits lightly in his throne: +And all this day an vnaccustom'd spirit, +Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts. +I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead, +(Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke,) +And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips, +That I reuiu'd and was an Emperour. +Ah me, how sweet is loue it selfe possest, +When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy. +Enter Romeo's man. + +Newes from Verona, how now Balthazer? +Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier? +How doth my Lady? Is my Father well? +How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe, +For nothing can be ill, is she be well + + Man. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill. +Her body sleepes in Capels Monument, +And her immortall part with Angels liue, +I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault, +And presently tooke Poste to tell it you: +O pardon me for bringing these ill newes, +Since you did leaue it for my office Sir + + Rom. Is it euen so? +Then I denie you Starres. +Thou knowest my lodging, get me inke and paper, +And hire Post-Horses, I will hence to night + + Man. I do beseech you sir, haue patience: +Your lookes are pale and wild, and do import +Some misaduenture + + Rom. Tush, thou art deceiu'd, +Leaue me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier? + Man. No my good Lord. + +Exit Man. + + Rom. No matter: Get thee gone, +And hyre those Horses, Ile be with thee straight, +Well Iuliet, I will lie with thee to night: +Lets see for meanes, O mischiefe thou art swift, +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men: +I do remember an Appothecarie, +And here abouts dwells, which late I noted +In tattred weeds, with ouerwhelming browes, +Culling of Simples, meager were his lookes, +Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones: +And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung, +An Allegater stuft, and other skins +Of ill shap'd fishes, and about his shelues, +A beggerly account of emptie boxes , +Greene earthen pots, Bladders, and mustie seedes, +Remnants of packthred, and old cakes of Roses +Were thinly scattered, to make vp a shew. +Noting this penury, to my selfe I said, +An if a man did need a poyson now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him. +O this same thought did but fore-run my need, +And this same needie man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house, +Being holy day, the beggers shop is shut. +What ho? Appothecarie? +Enter Appothecarie. + + App. Who call's so low'd? + Rom. Come hither man, I see that thou art poore, +Hold, there is fortie Duckets, let me haue +A dram of poyson, such soone speeding geare, +As will disperse it selfe through all the veines, +That the life-wearie-taker may fall dead, +And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath, +As violently, as hastie powder fier'd +Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe + + App. Such mortall drugs I haue, but Mantuas law +Is death to any he, that vtters them + + Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse, +And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes, +Need and opression starueth in thy eyes, +Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe: +The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law: +The world affords no law to make thee rich. +Then be not poore, but breake it, and take this + + App. My pouerty, but not my will consents + + Rom. I pray thy pouerty, and not thy will + + App. Put this in any liquid thing you will +And drinke it off, and if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight + + Rom. There's thy Gold, +Worse poyson to mens soules, +Doing more murther in this loathsome world, +Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell. +I sell thee poyson, thou hast sold me none, +Farewell, buy food, and get thy selfe in flesh. +Come Cordiall, and not poyson, go with me +To Iuliets graue, for there must I vse thee. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Frier Iohn to Frier Lawrence. + + Iohn. Holy Franciscan Frier, Brother, ho? +Enter Frier Lawrence. + + Law. This same should be the voice of Frier Iohn. +Welcome from Mantua, what sayes Romeo? +Or if his mind be writ, giue me his Letter + + Iohn. Going to find a bare-foote Brother out, +One of our order to associate me, +Here in this Citie visiting the sick, +And finding him, the Searchers of the Towne +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did raigne, +Seal'd vp the doores, and would not let vs forth, +So that my speed to Mantua there was staid + + Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo? + Iohn. I could not send it, here it is againe, +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearefull were they of infection + + Law. Vnhappie Fortune: by my Brotherhood +The Letter was not nice; but full of charge, +Of deare import; and the neglecting it +May do much danger: Frier Iohn go hence, +Get me an Iron Crow, and bring it straight +Vnto my Cell + + Iohn. Brother Ile go and bring it thee. +Enter. + + Law. Now must I to the Monument alone, +Within this three houres will faire Iuliet wake, +Shee will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents: +But I will write againe to Mantua, +And keepe her at my Cell till Romeo come, +Poore liuing Coarse, clos'd in a dead mans Tombe, +Enter. + +Enter Paris and his Page. + + Par. Giue me thy Torch Boy, hence and stand aloft, +Yet put it out, for I would not be seene: +Vnder yond young Trees lay thee all along, +Holding thy eare close to the hollow ground, +So shall no foot vpon the Churchyard tread, +Being loose, vnfirme with digging vp of Graues, +But thou shalt heare it: whistle then to me, +As signall that thou hearest some thing approach, +Giue me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go + + Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the Churchyard, yet I will aduenture + + Pa. Sweet Flower with flowers thy Bridall bed I strew: +O woe, thy Canopie is dust and stones, +Which with sweet water nightly I will dewe, +Or wanting that, with teares destil'd by mones; +The obsequies that I for thee will keepe, +Nightly shall be, to strew thy graue, and weepe. + +Whistle Boy. + +The Boy giues warning, something doth approach, +What cursed foot wanders this wayes to night, +To crosse my obsequies, and true loues right? +What with a Torch? Muffle me night a while. +Enter Romeo, and Peter. + + Rom. Giue me that Mattocke, & the wrenching Iron, +Hold take this Letter, early in the morning +See thou deliuer it to my Lord and Father, +Giue me the light; vpon thy life I charge thee, +What ere thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloofe, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my Ladies face: +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger, +A precious Ring, a Ring that I must vse, +In deare employment, therefore hence be gone: +But if thou iealous dost returne to prie +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heauen I will teare thee ioynt by ioynt, +And strew this hungry Churchyard with thy limbs: +The time, and my intents are sauage wilde: +More fierce and more inexorable farre, +Them emptie Tygers, or the roaring Sea + + Pet. I will be gone sir, and not trouble you + Ro. So shalt thou shew me friendship: take thou that, +Liue and be prosperous, and farewell good fellow + + Pet. For all this same, Ile hide me here about, +His lookes I feare, and his intents I doubt + + Rom. Thou detestable mawe, thou wombe of death, +Gorg'd with the dearest morsell of the earth: +Thus I enforce thy rotten Iawes to open, +And in despight, Ile cram thee with more food + + Par. This is that banisht haughtie Mountague, +That murdred my Loues Cozin; with which griefe, +It is supposed the faire Creature died, +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. +Stop thy vnhallowed toyle, vile Mountague: +Can vengeance be pursued further then death? +Condemned villaine, I do apprehend thee. +Obey and go with me, for thou must die, + Rom. I must indeed, and therfore came I hither: +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man, +Flie hence and leaue me, thinke vpon those gone, +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee Youth, +Put not an other sin vpon my head, +By vrging me to furie. O be gone, +By heauen I loue thee better then my selfe, +For I come hither arm'd against my selfe: +Stay not, be gone, liue, and hereafter say, +A mad mans mercy bid thee run away + + Par. I do defie thy commisseration, +And apprehend thee for a Fellon here + + Ro. Wilt thou prouoke me? Then haue at thee Boy + + Pet. O Lord they fight, I will go call the Watch + + Pa. O I am slaine, if thou be mercifull, +Open the Tombe, lay me with Iuliet + + Rom. In faith I will, let me peruse this face: +Mercutius kinsman, Noble Countie Paris, +What said my man, when my betossed soule +Did not attend him as we rode? I thinke +He told me Paris should haue married Iuliet. +Said he not so? Or did I dreame it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talke of Iuliet, +To thinke it was so? O giue me thy hand, +One, writ with me in sowre misfortunes booke. +Ile burie thee in a triumphant graue. +A Graue; O no, a Lanthorne; slaughtred Youth: +For here lies Iuliet, and her beautie makes +This Vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death lie thou there, by a dead man inter'd, +How oft when men are at the point of death, +Haue they beene merrie? Which their Keepers call +A lightning before death? Oh how may I +Call this a lightning? O my Loue, my Wife, +Death that hath suckt the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet vpon thy Beautie: +Thou are not conquer'd: Beauties ensigne yet +Is Crymson in thy lips, and in thy cheekes, +And Deaths pale flag is not aduanced there. +Tybalt, ly'st thou there in thy bloudy sheet? +O what more fauour can I do to thee, +Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twaine, +To sunder his that was thy enemie? +Forgiue me Cozen. Ah deare Iuliet: +Why art thou yet so faire? I will beleeue, +Shall I beleeue, that vnsubstantiall death is amorous? +And that the leane abhorred Monster keepes +Thee here in darke to be his Paramour? +For feare of that, I still will stay with thee, +And neuer from this Pallace of dym night +Depart againe: come lie thou in my armes, +Heere's to thy health, where ere thou tumblest in. +O true Appothecarie! +Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die. +Depart againe; here, here will I remaine, +With Wormes that are thy Chambermaides: O here +Will I set vp my euerlasting rest: +And shake the yoke of inauspicious starres +From this world-wearied flesh: Eyes looke your last: +Armes take your last embrace: And lips, O you +The doores of breath, seale with a righteous kisse +A datelesse bargaine to ingrossing death: +Come bitter conduct, come vnsauory guide, +Thou desperate Pilot, now at once run on +The dashing Rocks, thy Sea-sicke wearie Barke: +Heere's to my Loue. O true Appothecary: +Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die. +Enter Frier with a Lanthorne, Crow, and Spade. + + Fri. St. Francis be my speed, how oft to night +Haue my old feet stumbled at graues? Who's there? + Man. Here's one, a Friend, & one that knowes you well + + Fri. Blisse be vpon you. Tell me good my Friend +What Torch is yond that vainely lends his light +To grubs, and eyelesse Sculles? As I discerne, +It burneth in the Capels Monument + + Man. It doth so holy sir, +And there's my Master, one that you loue + + Fri. Who is it? + Man. Romeo + + Fri. How long hath he bin there? + Man. Full halfe an houre + + Fri. Go with me to the Vault + + Man. I dare not Sir. +My Master knowes not but I am gone hence, +And fearefully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to looke on his entents + + Fri. Stay, then Ile go alone, feares comes vpon me. +O much I feare some ill vnluckie thing + + Man. As I did sleepe vnder this young tree here, +I dreamt my maister and another fought, +And that my Maister slew him + + Fri. Romeo. +Alacke, alacke, what blood is this which staines +The stony entrance of this Sepulcher? +What meane these Masterlesse, and goarie Swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? +Romeo, oh pale: who else? what Paris too? +And steept in blood? Ah what an vnkind houre +Is guiltie of this lamentable chance? +The Lady stirs + + Iul. O comfortable Frier, where's my Lord? +I do remember well where I should be: +And there I am, where is my Romeo? + Fri. I heare some noyse Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and vnnaturall sleepe, +A greater power then we can contradict +Hath thwarted our entents, come, come away, +Thy husband in thy bosome there lies dead: +And Paris too: come Ile dispose of thee, +Among a Sisterhood of holy Nunnes: +Stay not to question, for the watch is comming. +Come, go good Iuliet, I dare no longer stay. +Enter. + + Iul. Go get thee hence, for I will not away, +What's here, A cup clos'd in my true loues hand? +Poyson I see hath bin his timelesse end +O churle, drinke all? and left no friendly drop, +To helpe me after, I will kisse thy lips, +Happlie some poyson yet doth hang on them, +To make me die with a restoratiue. +Thy lips are warme. +Enter Boy and Watch. + + Watch. Lead Boy, which way? + Iul. Yea noise? +Then ile be briefe. O happy Dagger. +'Tis in thy sheath, there rust and let me die. + +Kils herselfe. + + Boy. This is the place, +There where the Torch doth burne + Watch. The ground is bloody, +Search about the Churchyard. +Go some of you, who ere you find attach. +Pittifull sight, here lies the Countie slaine, +And Iuliet bleeding, warme and newly dead +Who here hath laine these two dayes buried. +Go tell the Prince, runne to the Capulets, +Raise vp the Mountagues, some others search, +We see the ground whereon these woes do lye, +But the true ground of all these piteous woes, +We cannot without circumstance descry. +Enter Romeo's man. + + Watch. Here's Romeo's man, +We found him in the Churchyard + + Con. Hold him in safety, till the Prince come hither. +Enter Frier, and another Watchman. + + 3.Wat. Here is a Frier that trembles, sighes, and weepes +We tooke this Mattocke and this Spade from him, +As he was comming from this Church-yard side + + Con. A great suspition, stay the Frier too. +Enter the Prince. + + Prin. What misaduenture is so earely vp, +That calls our person from our mornings rest? +Enter Capulet and his Wife. + + Cap. What should it be that they so shrike abroad? + Wife. O the people in the streete crie Romeo. +Some Iuliet, and some Paris, and all runne +With open outcry toward our Monument + + Pri. What feare is this which startles in your eares? + Wat. Soueraigne, here lies the Countie Paris slaine, +And Romeo dead, and Iuliet dead before, +Warme and new kil'd + + Prin. Search, +Seeke, and know how, this foule murder comes + + Wat. Here is a Frier, and Slaughter'd Romeos man, +With Instruments vpon them fit to open +These dead mens Tombes + + Cap. O heauen! +O wife looke how our Daughter bleedes! +This Dagger hath mistaine, for loe his house +Is empty on the backe of Mountague, +And is misheathed in my Daughters bosome + + Wife. O me, this sight of death, is as a Bell +That warnes my old age to a Sepulcher. +Enter Mountague. + + Pri. Come Mountague, for thou art early vp +To see thy Sonne and Heire, now early downe + + Moun. Alas my liege, my wife is dead to night, +Griefe of my Sonnes exile hath stopt her breath: +What further woe conspires against my age? + Prin. Looke: and thou shalt see + + Moun. O thou vntaught, what manners is in this, +To presse before thy Father to a graue? + Prin. Seale vp the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can cleare these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their true descent, +And then I will be generall of your woes, +And lead you euen to death? meane time forbeare, +And let mischance be slaue to patience, +Bring forth the parties of suspition + + Fri. I am the greatest, able to doe least, +Yet most suspected as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direfull murther: +And heere I stand both to impeach and purge +My selfe condemned, and my selfe excus'd + + Prin. Then say at once, what thou dost know in this? + Fri. I will be briefe, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo there dead, was husband to that Iuliet, +And she there dead, that's Romeos faithfull wife: +I married them; and their stolne marriage day +Was Tybalts Doomesday: whose vntimely death +Banish'd the new-made Bridegroome from this Citie: +For whom (and not for Tybalt) Iuliet pinde. +You, to remoue that siege of Greefe from her, +Betroth'd, and would haue married her perforce +To Countie Paris. Then comes she to me, +And (with wilde lookes) bid me deuise some meanes +To rid her from this second Marriage, +Or in my Cell there would she kill her selfe. +Then gaue I her (so Tutor'd by my Art) +A sleeping Potion, which so tooke effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The forme of death. Meane time, I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come, as this dyre night, +To helpe to take her from her borrowed graue, +Being the time the Potions force should cease. +But he which bore my Letter, Frier Iohn, +Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight +Return'd my Letter backe. Then all alone, +At the prefixed houre of her waking, +Came I to take her from her Kindreds vault, +Meaning to keepe her closely at my Cell, +Till I conueniently could send to Romeo. +But when I came (some Minute ere the time +Of her awaking) heere vntimely lay +The Noble Paris, and true Romeo dead. +Shee wakes, and I intreated her come foorth, +And beare this worke of Heauen, with patience: +But then, a noyse did scarre me from the Tombe, +And she (too desperate) would not go with me, +But (as it seemes) did violence on her selfe. +All this I know, and to the Marriage her Nurse is priuy: +And if ought in this miscarried by my fault, +Let my old life be sacrific'd, some houre before the time, +Vnto the rigour of seuerest Law + + Prin. We still haue knowne thee for a Holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to this? + Boy. I brought my Master newes of Iuliets death, +And then in poste he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same Monument. +This Letter he early bid me giue his Father, +And threatned me with death, going in the Vault, +If I departed not, and left him there + + Prin. Giue me the Letter, I will look on it. +Where is the Counties Page that rais'd the Watch? +Sirra, what made your Master in this place? + Page. He came with flowres to strew his Ladies graue, +And bid me stand aloofe, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the Tombe, +And by and by my Maister drew on him, +And then I ran away to call the Watch + + Prin. This Letter doth make good the Friers words, +Their course of Loue, the tydings of her death: +And heere he writes, that he did buy a poyson +Of a poore Pothecarie, and therewithall +Came to this Vault to dye, and lye with Iuliet. +Where be these Enemies? Capulet, Mountague, +See what a scourge is laide vpon your hate, +That Heauen finds meanes to kill your ioyes with Loue; +And I, for winking at your discords too, +Haue lost a brace of Kinsmen: All are punish'd + + Cap. O Brother Mountague, giue me thy hand, +This is my Daughters ioynture, for no more +Can I demand + + Moun. But I can giue thee more: +For I will raise her Statue in pure Gold, +That whiles Verona by that name is knowne, +There shall no figure at that Rate be set, +As that of True and Faithfull Iuliet + + Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his Lady ly, +Poore sacrifices of our enmity + + Prin. A glooming peace this morning with it brings, +The Sunne for sorrow will not shew his head; +Go hence, to haue more talke of these sad things, +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished. +For neuer was a Storie of more Wo, +Then this of Iuliet, and her Romeo. + +Exeunt. omnes + +FINIS. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2261 *** |