« PreviousContinue »
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy!
(They fight. 70 Page. O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
(Exit.) Par. O, I am slain! (Falls.) If thou be mer
ciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. (Dies.) Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this
face. Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris ! What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as we rode? I think He told me Paris should have married Juliet. Said he not so? Or did I dream it so ? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so ? O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book ! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave. A grave? O, no! a lantern, slaught'red youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
[Laying Paris in the tomb.] How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry! which their keepers call A lightning before death. O, how may I Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? 0, what more favour can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial Death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour ? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee, And never from this palace of dim night Depart again. Here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids; 0,
here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your
last! Arms, take your last embrace ! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death ! Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark ! Here's to my love! (Drinks.) O true apothe
cary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
(Dies.] Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with lantern, crow,
and spade. Fri, L. Saint Francis be my speed ! how oft
to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that
knows you well. Fri. L. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good
my friend, What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls ? As I discern, » It burneth in the Capels' monument. Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my
master, One that you love. Fri. L.
Who is it? Bal.
Romeo. Fri. L. How long hath he been there? Bal.
Full half an hour. Fri, L. Go with me to the vanlt. Bal.
I dare not, sr. My master knows not but I am gone hence ; And fearfully did menace me with death If I did stay to look on his intents. Fri. L. Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear
comes upon me: O, much I fear some ill unthrifty thing.
Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him. Fri. L.
(Advances.) Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre ? What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace ?
(Enters the tomb. Romeo! O, pale! Who else? What, Paris too! And steep'd in blood ? Ah, what' an unkind
hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance ! The lady stirs.
(Juliet rises Jul. O comfortable friar! where is my lord ? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo ?
(Noise within.] Fri. L. I hear some noise. Lady, come from
that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns. Stay not to question, for the watch is coming ; Come, go, good Juliet (Noise again), I dare no longer stay.
| Exit Fri. Lar. Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. What's here? A cup, clos'd in my true love's
Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris. 1. Watch. Lead, boy; which way? Jul. Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. 0 happy dagger!
(Snatching Romeo's dagger.i
This is thy sheath (Stabs herself); there rust, and let me die.
[Falls (on Romeo's body, and dies). Page. This is the place; there, where the
torch doth burn. 1. Watch. The ground is bloody; search
about the churchyard. Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.
(Exeunt some.] Pitiful sight! here lies the County slain; And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, 176 Who here hath lain this two days buried. Go, tell the Prince; run to the Capulets ; Raise up the Montagues; some others search.
(Exeunt others.) We see the ground whereon these woes do
lie; But the true ground of all these piteous woes We cannot without circumstance descry. Re-enter some of the WATCH, with] BALTHASAR. 2. Watch. Here's Romeo's man; we found
him in the churchyard. 1. Watch. Hold him in safety till the Prince
come hither. Re-enter another WATCHMAN, with FRAR LAU
RENCE. 3. Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles,
sighs, and weeps. We took this mattock and this spade from
him, As he was coming from this churchyard side. 1. Watch. A great suspicion. Stay the friar
Enter the PRINCE (and Attendants). Prince. What misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning rest ? Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others. Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek
abroad? La. Cap. Oh! the people in the street cry
Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris ; and all run, With open outcry, toward our monument. Prince. What fear is this which startles in
our ears ? 1. Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County
Paris slain ; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. Prince. Search, seek, and know how this
foul murder comes. 1. Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd
Romeo's man, With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. Cap. O heavens! O wife, look how our
daughter bleeds! This dagger hath mista'en, - for, lo, his house Is empty on the back of Montague, And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a
bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter MONTAGUE (and others). Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early To see thy son and heir more early down. Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to
night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath. What further woe conspires against mine age?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.
this, To press before thy father to a grave? Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a
while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true
descent; And then will'I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death. Meantime for
bear, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least, Yet most suspected, as the time and place Doth make against me, of this direful murder; And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself excus'd. Prince. Then say at once what thou dost
know in this. Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of
breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful
wife. I married them; and their stolen marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this
city, For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd. You, to remove that siege of grief from her, Betroth'd and would have married her perforce To County Paris. Then comes she to me, And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean To rid ber from this second marriage, Or in my cell there would she kill herself Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, To help to take her from her borrowed grave, Being the time the potion's force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight Return'd my letter back. Then all alone At the prefixed hour of her waking, Came I'to take her from her kindred's vault; Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo; But when I came, some minute ere the time Of her awakening, here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, seo And bear this work of heaven with patience. But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
And she, too desperate, would not go
Prince. This letter doth make good the But, as it seems, did violence on herself,
friar's words, All this I know, and to the marriage
Their course of love, the tidings of her death. Her nurse is privy; and, if aught in this And here he writes that he did buy a poison Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Be sacrific'd, some hour before his time, Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. » Unto the rigour of severest law.
Where be these enemies ? Capulet! Montagne! Prince. We still have known thee for a holy See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
That Heaven finds means to kill your joys with Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to
And I for winking at your discords too Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish d. death;
Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand. And then in post he came from Mantua
This is my daughter's jointure, for no more To this same place, to this same monument. Can I demand. This letter he early bid me give his father, 276
Mon. But I can give thee more; And threat'ned me with death, going in the For I will raise her statue in pure gold;. vault,
That whiles Verona by that name is known, 1.3 If I departed not and left him there.
There shall no figure at such rate be set Prince. Give me the letter; I will look on it. As that of true and faithful Juliet. Where is the County's page, that rais'd the Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie, watch?
Poor sacrifices of our enmity! Sirrah, what made your master in this place ? Prince. A glooming peace this morning with it Page. He came with flowers to strew his brings; lady's grave;
The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. And bid me stand aloof, and so I did.
Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb, Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: And by and by my master drew on him ; For never was a story of more woe And then I ran away to call the watch.
Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. (Eseunt
THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CÆSAR
THE tragedy of Julius Cæsar was first printed in the Folio of 1623. The earlier limit for the date of its composition is presumably fixed by its absence from the list given in Meres's Palladis Tamia in 1598; and a later limit is found in an allusion to the speeches of Brutus and Antony to the citizens in John Weever's Mirror of Martyrs, published in 1601. But Weever states in his Dedication that his work “some two years ago was made fit for the print"; and this piece of evidence is strengthened by an apparent reference in Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour (1599). In this play (11. i.) Clove, a talker of fustian, is made to quote, reason long since is fled to animals,” which may, perhaps, derive its point from Julius Cæsar, 111. ii. 109. With the date thus suggested, 1599, the metrical tests and the characteristics of style are in sufficient agreement; and few modern critics place the play later than 1601. An argument has been based on the use of the word “eternal” in 1. ii. 160. In 1600, it is urged, Shakespeare was still using “infernal ” in such passages, but after that date he substituted “eternal," apparently out of deference to the Puritan agitation which culminated in legislation against profanity and other abuses on the stage. But this loses its force when it is observed that the change may here, as in other instances, have been made at a later date, and that it is by no means certain that Shakespeare wished to say “infernal.”
The history of Julius Cæsar had been treated on the Elizabethan stage before Shakespeare wrote his tragedy, but it has not yet been shown that he made use of any earlier version, though some scholars have argued that the present play is the result of the combination of two earlier dramas dealing respectively with the death and the avenging of Julius Cæsar. The evidence from an extant Dutch play of foreign origin has not yet been brought to bear on the problem. It is not questioned, however, that Shakespeare drew heavily on Plutarch's lives of Cæsar, Brutus, and Antony, which he read in Sir Thomas North’s translation of Amyot's French version. A large portion of the play consists merely of North’s language turned into blank verse, with that subtle heightening of the imaginative quality which Shakespeare habitually added to his sources ; and much that has puzzled readers in the unheroic character of Cæsar finds its explanation in the text of Plutarch. Cæsar's great exploits are narrated in Plutarch's Life, but in the earlier part which Shakespeare did not use; and the later section taken alone conveys very much the same impression of Cæsar's pomposity and weaknesses as is given by the earlier part of the play. The characters of Casca and Lepidus are hardly hinted at by Plutarch. Cassius is strengthened by changing him from a man who was “ too familiar with his friends, and would jest too broadly with them," to one who smiles seldom, and by the omission of the petty causes of his hatred of Cæsar. Brutus is still more idealized. Several details that might have taken from his dignity are omitted, and the boy Lucius is invented that by the picture of their relations might be emphasized the tenderness of Brutus's disposition. The soliloquy of Brutus in which the workings of his mind before the assassination are laid bare, the scene in the orchard, that in which the conspirators bathe their arms in Cæsar's blood, and the speech of Antony over Cæsar's dead body are wholly Shakespeare's; while the orations of Brutus and Antony at Cæsar's funeral are elaborated from the slightest hints.
THE TRAGEDY OF JULIUS CÆSAR
A Soothsayer. OCTAVIUS CÆSAR,
CINNA, & poet. Another Poet.
friends to Brutus and Cassius. PUBLIUS, senators.
Young Cato, POPILIUS LENA,
VOLUMNIUS, MARCUS BRUTUS,
servants to Brutus. TREBONIUS, conspirators against Julius
Lucius, Decius BRUTUS,
PINDARUS, servant to Cassius.
CALPURNIA, wife to Cæsar.
PORTIA, wife to Brutus.
are in great danger, I re-cover them. As proper
men as ever trod upon neat's leather have gone SCENE I. (Rome. A street.)
upon my handiwork. Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Com
Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to MONERS over the stage.
Why dost thou lead these men about the Flav. Hence! home, you idle creatures, get
streets? you home!
Cob. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, Is this a holiday? What! know you not, get myself into more work. But, indeed, sir, Being mechanical, you ought not walk
we make holiday, to see Cæsar and to rejoice Upon a labouring day without the sign
in his triumph. of your profession? Speak, what trade art Mar. Wherefore rejoice? What conquest thou?
brings he home ? Car. Why, sir, a carpenter.
What tributaries follow him to Rome Mar. Where is thy leather apron and thy | To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels ? rule ?
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseWhat dost thou with thy best apparel on?
less things! You, sir, what trade are you?
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, Cob. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine work- Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft man, I am but, as you would say, a cobbler. 11 Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, Mar. But what trade art thou ? Answer me To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, directly:
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat á Cob. A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with The live-long day, with patient expectation, a safe conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome; mender of bad soles.
And when you saw his chariot but appear Flav. What trade, thou knave? thou naughty Have you not made an universal shout, knave, what trade?
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks Cob. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with To hear the replication of your sounds me; yet, if you be out, sir, I can mend you. Made in her concave shores ?
Mar. What mean'st thou by that? Mend And do you now put on your best attire ? me, thou saucy fellow!
And do you now cull out a holiday ? Cob. Why, sir, cobble you.
And do you now strew flowers in his way. Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ?
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? Cob. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the Be gone! awl. I meddle with no tradesman's matters, (25 Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, nor women's matters, but with all. I am, in- Pray to the gods to intermit the plague deed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they That needs must light on this ingratitude.