PROLOGUE. Two households, both alike in dignity, A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; coals. Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Gre. To move is-to stir; and to be valiant isto stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou run'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall :-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh, Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John⚫ Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of Montagues f. Enter ABRAM and BALTHASAR. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Gre. How? Turn thy back, and run? Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir? Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir? Abr. Quarrel, Sir? No, Sir. Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sam. Well, Sir. Enter BENVOLIO, et a distance. Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my mas ter's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, Sir. Abr. You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men. en.-Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight, Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their Swords. Enter TYBALT. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maid- As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: enheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries. Have at thee, coward. [They fight. Poor John is hake, dried and salted. Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join the Fray; then enter CITIZENS, with Clubs. 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! Strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues! Enter CAPULET, in his Gown; and Lady CAPULET. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say !-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter MONTAGUE and Lady MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Enter PRINCE, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profane:s of this neighbour-stained steel, Will they not hear?-What ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where,-underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rooteth from the city's side,So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own,That most are busied when they are most alone,Pursued my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Black and portentous must this humour prove, • Clubs! was the usual exclamation at an affray in the streets, as we now call Watch! + Angry. † Appeared. Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. 1 neither know it, nor can learn of him. Ben. Have you impórtuned him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, bis own affections' counsellor, Is to himself-I will not say, how trueBut to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know. Enter ROMEO, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Pen. Good morrow, cousin. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ah me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? hours? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love :- Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. [Going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love. Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why, no; But sadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will :— Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. Rom. A right good marks-man!—And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? • In seriousness. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starved with her severity, She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Ren. Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more: SCENE II-A Street. Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and SERVANT. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. Par. Of honourable reckoning + are you both; And pity 'tis, you lived at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Let two more summers wither in their pride, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house, look to behold this night Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, And like her most, whose merit most shall be: Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one, May stand in number, though in reckoning § none. Come, go with me ;-Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out, Whose names are written there, [Gives a Paper.] and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. [Exeunt Capulet and Paris. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned :-In good time. Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. Ben. For what, I pray thee 1 Rom. For your broken shin, i. e. What end does it answer? + Account, estimation. Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madinan is: Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good fellow. Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, Sir, can you read? Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Rom. Whose house? Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that be fore. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cop of wine.. Rest you merry. [Erit. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires! And these,-who, often drown'd, could never die,Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! The all-seeing sun best. Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shewn, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. SCENE III-A Room in Capulet's House. Enter Lady CAPULET and NURSE. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me. Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head,-at twelve year old, I bade her come.-What, lamb! What, lady-bird!-- Jul. How now, who calls? La. Cap. This is the matter:-Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel. Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. La. Cap. She's not fourteen. Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, And yet, to my teens be it spoken, I have but four, She is not fourteen: How long is it now La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. We still say in cant language—to crack a bottie. + Weighed. Scarce, hardly. To my sorrow. Susan and she,-God rest all Christian souls!- On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen: That book in many eyes doth share the glory, men. La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you call'd, my young lady ask'd for, the I nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood †, I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, And, pretty fool, it stinted §, and said-Ay. peace. Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay: A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone; Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of:-Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, I'd say, thou hast suck'd wisdom from thy teat. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers: by my count, Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. tleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast: La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-A Street. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without apology? Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper +; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance: But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. Rom. Give me a torch -I am not for this am bling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, Mer. And to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.Give me a case to put my visage in; [Putting on a Mask. A visor for a visor!-What care I, What curious eye doth quote | deformities? Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes ¶ with their heels; If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Mer. I mean, Sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits Five times in that, ere once in our five wits. crows. i. e. Long speeches are out of fashion + A scare-crow, a figure made up to frighten † A dance. A torch-bearer was a constant appendage to every troop of maskers. || Observe. It was anciently the custom to strew rooms with rushes. This is equivalent to phrases in common useI am done for, it is over with me. Kom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; | court-cupboard look to the plate:-Good thes, But 'tis no wit to go. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Mer. And so did I. Rom. Well, what was yours? Mer. That dreamers often lie. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things true. Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: Rom Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels; and expire the term Of a despised life, closed in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death: But He, that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail!-On, lusty gentlemen. Ben. Strike, drum. [Exeunt SCENE V.-A Hall in Capulet's House. Musicians waiting.-Enter SERVANTS 1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher! He scrape a trencher ! 2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the • Atoms. A place in court. ti. e. Fairy-locks, locks of hair clotted and tangled in the night. save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Neil.-Antony! and Potpan! 2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready. 1 Serv. You are look'd for, and call'd for, ask'd for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all. [They retire bekind. Enter CAPULET, &c. with the Guests, and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! Ladies, that have their toes Unplagued with corns, will have a bout with you: Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all she, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near you now! You are welcome, gentlemen: I have seen the day, That I have worn a visor; and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please;-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: You are welcome, gentlemen!-Come musicians, play. A hall! A hall! Give room, and foot it girls. 2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. 1 Cap. What man! Tis not so much, 'tis not se much: 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask. 2 Cap. 'Tis move, 'tis more: his son is elder, Sir: His son is thirty. 1 Cap. Will you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight? Serv. I know not, Sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:— 1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so? Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; Tyb. Tis he, that villain Romeo. 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, He bears him like a portly gentleman; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him, To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: I would not for the wealth of all this town, Here in my house, do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him, It is my will; the which if thou respect, Shew a fair presence, and put off these frowns, And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. Tyb. It fits when such a villain is a guest; I'll not endure him. 1 Cap. He shall be endured; A cupboard set in a corner, like a beaufet, et which the plate was placed. Almond cake. An Ethiopian, a black. ti. e. Make room. The dance. |