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cry a match.
SCENE IV. - A Street.
Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered.
Mer. Well said: Follow me this jest now, till Enter Benvolio and MERCUTIO.
thou hast worn out thy pump ; that, when the single Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be ? - sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the Came he not home to-night?
wearing, solely singular. Ben. Not to his father's ; I spoke with his man.
Rom. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, singleness ! that Rosaline,
Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
fail. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mer. A challenge, on my life.
Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, Ben. Romeo will answer it.
I have done ; for thou hast more of the wild-goose Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a
in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my letter. 1
whole five : Was I with you there for the goose ? Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how
Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, he dares, being dared.
when thou wast not there for the goose. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead ! Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot tho
Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. rough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft ;
most sharp sauce. And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you.
Mer. O, here's a wit of 'cheverel, that stretches O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. from an inch narrow to an ell broad! He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, dis
Rom. I stretch it out for that word - broad : tance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide two, and the third in your bosom : the very butcher
a broad goose. of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist ; a gentleman
Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning of the very first house, of the first and second
for love ? now art thou sociable, now art thou Roo cause : Ah, the immortal passado! the punu meo; now art thou what thou art art as well as verso ! the hay !
by nature : for this drivelling love is like a great naBen. The what?
tural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting bauble in a hole. fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents !-By Jesu,
Ben. Stop there, stop there. a very good blade ! - - a very tall man! - a very good
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against whore ! - Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grand- | the hair. sire, that we should be thus afflicted with these Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large. strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardon
Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have made nez-moy's, who stand so much on the new form, it short : for I was come to the whole depth of my that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? o, tale : and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument their bons, their bons !
Enter Nurse and PETER
Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail ! flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified ! Now is he for Ben. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock. the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura, to his Nurse. Peter ! lady, was but a kitchen-wenchr; -marry, she had a Peter. Anon? better love to be-rhymie her: Dido, a dowdy; Cle- Nurse. My fan, Peter. opatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and har- Mer. Pr’ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face ; lots ; Thisbé, a grey eye or so, but not to the pur- for her fan's the fairer of the two. pose. Signior Romeo, bon jour ! there's a French Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. salutation to your French slop./ You gave us the
Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. 2 counterfeit fairly last night.
Nurse. Is it good den ? Rom. Good morrow to you both.
Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you ; for the bawdy hand terfeit did I give you ?
of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not con- Nurse. Out upon you ! what a man are you? ceive?
Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made Kom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was
himself to mar. great ; and, in such a case as mine, a man may strain Nurse. By my troth, it is well said ; - For himself courtesy
to mar, quoth'a ? Gentlemen, can any of you tell Mer. That's as much as to say such a case as me where I may find the young Romeo ? yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
Rom. I can tell you ; but young Romeo will be Rom. Meaning to court'sy.
older when you have found him, than he was when Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it.
you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, Rom. A most courteous exposition.
for 'fault of a worse. Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Nurse. You say well. Rom. Pink for flower
Mer. Yen, is the worst well? very well took, Ver. Right.
i'faith ; wisely, wisely.
Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence | Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night. Ben. She will indite him to some supper.
Farewell! Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains. Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Farewell! Commend me to thy mistress. Rom. What hast thou found ?
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee ! - Hark Mer. No hare, sir; unless a bare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse ? be spent.
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear An old hare hoar,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel.
Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest Is too much for a score,
lady Lord, lord ! when 'twas a little prating When it hoars ere it be spent.
thing, 0, there's a nobleman in town, one Paris,
that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good Romeo, will you come to your father's ? we'll to soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see dinner thither.
him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris Rom. I will follow you.
is the properer man; but, I'll warrant you, when I Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the varsal lady, lady.
world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both [Exeunt Mercurio and Benvolio. with a letter? Nurse. Marry, farewell ! — I pray you, sir, what Rom. Ay, nurse; What of that? both with an R. saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. ropery?
is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear other letter : and she hath the prettiest sententious himself talk; and will speak more in a minute, than of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you he will stand to in a month.
good to hear it. Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll Rom. Commend me to thy lady. [Erit. take him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. - Peter ! twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, l'll find those Pet. Anon? that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt- Nurse. Peter, Take my fan, and go before. gills; I am none of his skains-mates :- And thou
(Exeunt must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure ?
SCENE V.- Capulet's Garden. Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I
Enter JULIET. had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you : I dare draw as soon as another man, Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on
In half an hour she promis'd to return. Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that Perchance, she cannot meet him: that's not su. every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave !. 0, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, lady bade me inquire you out; what she bade me Driving back shadows over lowring hills : say, I will keep to myself : but first let me tell ye, Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, if ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as they And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they Now is the sun upon the highmost hill say : for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, Of this day's journey ; and from nine till twelve if you should deal double with her, truly, it were Is three long hours, — yet she is not come. an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and Had she affections, and warm youthful blood, very weak dealing.
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball ; Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mis- My words would bandy her to my sweet love, tress. I protest unto thee,
And his to me :
Enter Nurse and PETER. not mark me.
Nurse. I will tell her, sir, — that you do protest ; | O God, she comes ! — O honey nurse, what news ? which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
Hast thou met with him ? Send thy man away. Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.
[Erit PETER. This afternoon;
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, - lord! why And there she shall at friar Laurence' cell
look'st thou sad ? Be shriv’d, and married. Here is for thy pains. Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily ; Nurse. No, truly, sir ; not a penny.
If good, thou sham’st the musick of sweet news Rom. Go to; I say, you shall.
By playing it to me with so sour a face. Nurse. This afternoon, sir ? well, she shall be Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave a while ; there.
Fye, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had ! Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey- Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and thy
wall: Within this hour iny man shall be with thee; Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ; -good, good nurse, And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair:
Vurse. Jesu, What haste ? can you not stay | To fetch a ladder, by the which your love awhile ?
Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark : Do you not see, that I am out of breath ?
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; Jill. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast But you shall bear the burden soon at night. breath
Go, I'll to dinner ; hie you to the cell. To say to me — that thou art out of breath?
Jul. Hie to high fortune! — honest nurse, fareThe excuse, that thou dost make in this delay,
[Errunt. Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good, or bad ? answer to that ;
SCENE VI. - Friar Laurence's Cell. Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance :
Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. Let me be satisfied, Is't good or bad ?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice ; Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act you know not how to choose a man : Romeo! no, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not ! not he; though his face be better than any man's, Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a It cannot countervail the exchange of joy foot, and a body, — though they be not to be talked | That one short minute gives me in her sight : on, yet they are past compare : He is not the flower Do thou but close our hands with holy words, of courtesy, - but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a Then love-devouring death do what he dare, lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God. - What, It is enough I may but call her mine. have you dined at home?
Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, Jul. No, no: But all this did I know before ; And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, What says he of our marriage ? what of that? Which, as they kiss, consume: The sweetest honey Nurse. Lord, how my head akes! what a head Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, have I ?
And in the taste confounds the appetite : It beats as it would fall twenty pieces,
Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so; My back o' t' other side,-0, my back, my back! Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. Beshrew your heart, for sending me about,
Enter JULIET. To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Juil. l'faith, I am sorry that thou art not well : Here comes the lady ; - 0, so light a foot Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting lint: love?
A lover may bestride the gossomers Nurse. Your love says like an honest gentleman, That idle in the wanton summer air, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And yet not fall; so light is vanity. And, I warrant, a virtuous :- Where is your mother? Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Jul. Where is my mother? - why, she is Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us within ;
both. Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st ?
Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too Your love says like an honest gentleman,
much. Where is
Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Are you so hot ? Marry, come up, I trow ;
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath Is this the poultice for my aking bones?
This neighbour air, and let rich musick's tongue Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Unfold the imagin’d happiness that both Jul. Here's such a coil, - Come, what says Receive in either by this dear encounter. Romeo ?
Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? Brags of bis substance, not of ornament: Jul. I have.
They are but beggars that can count their worth ; Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' But my true love is grown to such excess, cell,
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. There stays a husband to make you a wife :
Fri. Come, come, with me, and we will make Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
short work; They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, Hie you to church; I must another way,
Till holy church incorporate two in one. (Ereuni.
SCENE I. – A publick Place.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire ;
Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps ine his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second
cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.
Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?
Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Ben. And what to?
Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou
hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a inan for cracking of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of
[Drawing as an egg is full of meat ; and yet thy head hath Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in Rom. Draw, Benvolio; the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that Beat down their weapons : Gentlemen, for shame hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out Forbear this outrage ;
- Tybalt - Mercutio with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying Easter ? with another, for tying his new shoes with In Verona streets : - hold, Tybalt ; — good Merold ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from
cutio. [Exeunt Tybalt and his Partizans. quarrelling!
Mer. I am hurt;
What, art thou hurt ? Mer. The fee-simple ? O simple!
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry, 'uis
enough. Enter TYBALT, and others.
Where is my page ? go, villain, fetch a surgeon. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
[Exit Page. Mer. By my heel, I care not.
Rom. Courage, man ; the hurt cannot be much. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide them.
as a church-door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask Gentlemen, good den : a word with one of you. for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave
Mer. And but one word with one of us ? Couple man. I am peppered, I warrant for this world : it with something ; make it a word and a blow. A plague o’both your houses ! - 'Zounds, a dog, a
Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a you will give me occasion.
braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book Mer. Could you not take some occasion without of arithmetick! Why, the devil, came you begiving ?
tween us? I was hurt under your arm. Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo, Rom. I thought all for the best.
Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us min- Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, strels ! an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick ; here's They have made worm's meat of me: that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort ! I have it, and soundly too : - - Your houses. Ben. We talk here in the publick haunt of men :
[Exeunt MERCUTio and BenvoLIO, Either withdraw into some private place,
Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
Hath been my kinsman :- O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead; Mer. But I'll be ed, sir, if he wear your That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the livery:
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries Away to heaven, respective lenity,
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
That late thou gav’st me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Shalt with him hence.
This shall determine that. Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of
[They fight; Tybaar falls. your nine lives ; that I mean to make bold withal, Ben. Romeo, away, be gone! and, as you shall rise me hereafter, dry-beat the rest The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :
them gaze ;
Stand not amaz'd:--the prince will doom thee death, But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine,
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Why dost thou stay? Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses,
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will : i Cit. Which way ran he, that killid Mercutio ? Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he ?
[Erennt Ben. There lies that Tybalt. 1 Cit.
Up, sir, go with me; SCENE II. - A Room in Capulet's House. I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phæbus' mansion ; such a waggoner Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
As Phaeton would whip you to the west, Ben. ( noble Prince, I can discover all
And bring in cloudy night immediately. — The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen! La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin ! — O my brother's Lovers can see to do their amorous rites child!
By their own beauties : or, if love be blind, Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spillid
It best agrees with night. Come, civil niglit, Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. And learn me how to lose a winning match, O cousin, cousin !
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods : Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks, Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did with thy black mantle; till strange love, grown buld. slay;
Think true love acted, simple modesty. Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink Come, night! — Come, Romeo ! come, thou day in How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
night! Your high displeasure :- All this - uttered For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. bow'd,
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
night, Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
Give me my Romeo : and, when he shall die, With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast; Take him and cut him out in little stars, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats That all the world will be in love with night. Cold death aside, and with the other sends
And pay no worship to the garish sun. It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
O, I have bought the mansion of a love, Retorts it : Romeo he cries aloud,
But not possess'd it; and, though I am sold, Hold, friends! friends, part! and swifter than his Not yet enjoy'd : So tedious is this day, tongue,
As is the night before some festival His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
To an impatient child, that hath new robes, And 'twixt them rushes ; underneath whose arm And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled :
Enter Nurse, with cords. But by and by comes back to Romeo,
And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. And to't they go like light'ning; for, ere I
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? thie Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain ;
cords, And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly;
That Romeo bade thee fetch ? This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Ay, ay, the cords. La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
[Throws them down. Affection makes him false, he speaks not true :
Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou wring Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
thy hands? And all those twenty could but kill one life :
Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
dead! Romeo slew Tybalt, Rome) must not live.
We are undone, lady, we are undone! Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio ; Alack the day! - he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead ! Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? Jul. Can heaven be so envious ? Mon, Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's Nurse.
Romeo can, friend ;
Though heaven cannot :- O Romeo, Romeo ! His fault concludes but, what the law should end, Who ever would have thought it? - Romeo! The life of Tybalt.
Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me Prin. And, for that offence,
thus? Immediately we do exíle him hence :
This torture should be roar'd in dismal bell. I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding ; | And that bare vowel I shall poison more