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than you,



La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you I came to talk of :tell me, daughter Juliet,

dance. How stands your disposition to be married ?

Rom. Not I, believe me. You have dancing Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.

shoes, Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead, [would thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat. So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger Mer. You are a lover : borrow Cupid's wings,

And soar with them above a common bound. Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, Are made already mothers : by my count,

To soar with his light feathers; and so bound, I was your mother, much upon these years I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief;- Under love's heavy burden do I sink. The valiant Paris seeks you for bis love.

Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, Too great oppression for a tender thing. As all the world— Why, he's a man of wax.

Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn. flower.

Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the gen- Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.tleman?

Give me a case to put my visage in : This night you shall behold him at our feast :

[Putting on a mask. Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,

A visor for a visor !--what care I,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen. What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Examine every married lineament,

Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me. And see how one another lends content;

Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,

But every man betake him to his legs. Find written in the margin of his eyes.

Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,
This precious book of love, this unbound lover, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:

For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase,
The fish lives in the sea; and ’tis much pride, I'll be a candle-holder, and look on:
For fair without the fair within to hide.

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;

word. So shall you share all that he doth possess,

If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire By having him making yourself no less.

Of this save-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger: women grow by Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho.

Rom. Nay, that's not so. La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris'


I mean, sir, in delay love?

We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move; Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits But no more deep will I endart mine eye,

Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. Rom. And we mean well in going to this mask,

But 'tis no wit to go.
Enter a Servant.


Why, may one ask? Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night? up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse Mer.

And so did I. cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. Rom. Well, what was yours? I must hence to wait ; I beseech you, follow Mer.

That dreamers often lie. straight.

Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things La. Cap. We follow thee. Juliet, the county stays.

Mer. O! then, I see, queen Mab hath been with Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy

you. days.

[E.reunt. She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
SCENE IV.-A Street.

On the fore-finger of an alderman,

Drawn with a team of little atomies Enter Romeo, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or

Over men's noses as they lie asleep: sir Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others.

Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; excuse,

The traces, of the smallest spider's web; Or shall we on without apology ?

The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams : Ben. The date is out of such prolixity :

Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,

Not half so big as a round little worm Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;

Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid. Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, After the prompter, for our entrance:

Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, But, let them measure us by what they will, Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. And in this state she gallops night by night

Rom. Give me a torch ; I am not for this ambling: Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of Being but heavy, I will bear the light.







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On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies Making them women of good carriage. straight :

This, is sheO'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees : Rom. Peace, peace! Mercutio, peace! O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; Thou talk'st of nothing. Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Mer.

True, I talk of dreams, Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted Which are the children of an idle brain, are.

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, Which is as thin of substance as the air ; And then dreams he of smelling out a suit: And more inconstant than the wind, who woos And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, Even now the frozen bosom of the north, Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep;

And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Then he dreams of another benefice.

Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourAnd then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

selves; Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon

Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives, Drums in his ear, at which he starts, and wakes ; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, Shall bitterly begin his fearsul date And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,

With this night's revels; and expire the term That plats the manes of horses in the night; Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, By some vile forfeit of untimely death : Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes. But He, that hath the steerage of my course, This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, Direct my sail.-On, lusty gentlemen. That presses them, and learns them first to bear, Ben. Strike, drum.


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SCENE V.-A Hall in CAPULET's House.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. 1 Sero. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate.—Good thou, save


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me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, 1 Cap. Young Romeo is it? let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Vell.- Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romeo. Antony! and Potpan!

i Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, 2 Serr. Ay, boy; ready.

He bears him like a portly gentleman; I Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked And, to say truth, Verona brags of him, for, and sought for, in the great chamber.

To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth. 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.- I would not for the wealth of all this town, Cheerly, boys: be brisk awhile, and the longer Here, in my house, do him disparagement; liver take all.

[They retire behind. Therefore, be patient, take no note of him:

It is my will; the which if thou respect, Enter CAPULET, gc., with the Guests, and the

Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns, Maskers.

An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest. their toes

I'll not endure him. Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you :- 1 Cap.

He shall be endur'd: Ah ha, my mistresses ! which of you all

What! goodman boy !-I say, he shall ;-go to ;Will now deny to dance ? she that makes dainty, Am I the master here, or you ? go to.

1 she,

You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soulI'll swear, hath corns. Am I come near you now? You'll make a mutiny among my guests. You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man That I have worn a visor, and could tell

Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

1 Cap.

Go to, go to; Such as would please :-'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis You are a saucy boy.—Is't so, indeed ? gone.

This trick may chance to scath you ;-I know what. You are welcome, gentlemen !--Come, musicians, You must contrary me! marry, 'tis timeplay.

Well said, my hearts !-You are a princox; go :A hall! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls. Be quiet, or-More light, more light!-for shame!

[Music plays, and they dance. I'll make you quiet ;-What !-Cheerly, my hearts ! More light, ye knaves! and turn the tables up, Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meetAnd quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. ing, Ah! sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,

I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall, For you and I are past our dancing days :

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. (Exit. How long is't now, since last yourself and I

Rom. If I profane with my unworthiest hand Were in a mask?

[T. JULIET. 2 Cap. By'r lady, thirty years.

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand much:

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,

Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

much, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. Which mannerly devotion shows in this ;

2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir ; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, His son is thirty.

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. 1 Cap.

tell me that?

Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? His son was but a ward two years ago.

Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in Rom. What lady is that, which doth enrich the

prayer. hand

Rom. O! then, dear saint, let lips do what hands Of yonder knight? Serv. I know not, sir.

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to desRom. O! she doth teach the torches to burn

pair. bright.

Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' Her beauty hangs upon the chcek of night

sake. Like a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear;

Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

I take. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg'd. As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

[Kissing her. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

took. Did my heart love till now ? forswear it, sight! Rom. Sin from my lips ? O, trespass sweetly I never saw true beauty till this night.

urg'd! Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.- Give me my sin again. Fetch me my rapier, boy.—What! dares the slave Jul.

You kiss by the book. Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,

Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with To feer and scorn at our solemnity?

you. Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,

Rom. What is her mother? To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.


Marry, bachelor, 1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore Her mother is the lady of the house, storm you so ?

And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous. Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe; I nurs'd her daughter, that talk'd withal; A villain, that is hither come in spite,

I tell you-he that can lay hold of her To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Shall have the chinks.


do ;




Is she a Capulet ? O, dear account! my life is my foe's debt.

Ben. Away, begone : the sport is at the best. Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. 1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.Is it e'en so? Why then, I thank you all; I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night :More torches here!--Come on, then let's to bed. Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late; I'll to my rest.

(Exeunt all but Juliet and NURSE. Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond' gen

tleman ? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door ? Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he, that follows here, that would

not dance ? Nurse. I know not.

Jul. Go, ask his name.-If he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague; The only son of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nurse. What's this? what's this?

A rhyme I learn'd even now Of one 1 danc'd withal. [One calls within, Juliet! Nurse.

Anon, anon:
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.


Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir:
That fair, for which love groan'd for, and would die,

With tender Juliet match'd is now not fair. Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks; But to his foe suppos'd he must complain,

And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less

To meet her new-beloved anywhere : But passion lends them power, time, means, to meet, Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. [Erit.


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Scene I.-An open Place, adjoining CAPULET'S

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Garden.

Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;

That were some spite. My invocation
Enter ROMEO.

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name,

I conjure only but to raise up him. Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here?

Ben. Come, he hath bid himself among these Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

trees, [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.

To be consorted with the humorous night:

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
Enter Benvolio and MERCUTIO.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Romeo ! Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

He is wise;

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit, And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard Romeo, good night:-I'll to my truckle-bed; wall.

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
Call, good Mercutio.

Come, shall we go?
Nay, I'll conjure too.-


Go, then; for 'tis in vain Romeo, humours, madman, passion, lover!

To seek him here, that means not to be found. Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:

(Ereunt. Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but —Ah me! pronounce but—love and dove;

Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

Enter ROMEO.
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,

Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.

[Juliet appears above, at a window. He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; But, soft! what light through yonder window The ape is dead, and I must conjure bim.

breaks? I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, Who is already sick and pale with grief, And the demespes that there adjacent lie,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she: That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Be not her maid, since she is envious; Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

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

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