These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain'd Give sentence on this execrable wretch,
To melt in showers: thy grandsire lov'd thee
well:
Many a time he danc'd thee on his knee,
Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
Many a matter hath he told to thee,
Meet and agreeing with thine infancy;
In that respect, then, like a loving child,
Shed yet some small drops from thy tender
spring,
Because kind nature doth require it so :
Friends should associate friends in grief and woe.
Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave; 170
Do him that kindness, and take leave of him.
Boy. O grandsire, grandsire! even with all
my heart
Would I were dead, so you did live again.
O Lord! I cannot speak to him for weeping;
My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
Re-enter Attendants, with AARON.
That hath been breeder of these dire events.
Luc. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish
him;
There let him stand, and rave, and cry for food:
If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom:
Some stay to see him fasten'd in the earth.
Aar. O! why should wrath be mute, and fury
dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done.
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will:
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.
Luc. Some loving friends convey the emperor
hence,
And give him burial in his father's grave.
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that heinous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weeds,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds of prey.
Her life was beast-like, and devoid of pity;
And, being so, shall have like want of pity. 200
See justice done on Aaron, that damn'd Moor,
By whom our heavy haps had their beginning:
First Rom. You sad Andronici, have done Then, afterwards, to order well the state,
with woes:
That like events may ne'er it ruinate.
Citizens of Verona; Kinsfolk of both Houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
SCENE.-During the greater Part of the Play in Verona: once, in the fifth Act, at Mantua.
Gre. How! turn thy back and run?
Samp. Fear me not.
Gre. No, marry; I fear thee! Samp. 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.
Samp. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
52
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Samp. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Samp. Aside to GREGORY. Is the law of our
side if I say ay?
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Gre. No.
Samp. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, If ever you disturb our streets again sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
60
693
Lady Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Samp. If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
Abr. No better.
Samp. Well, sir.
Enter PRINCE, with his Train.
91
Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,Will they not hear? What ho! you men, you
beasts,
Samp. Draw, if you be men. member thy swashing blow.
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate.
Gre. Aside to SAMPSON. Say 'better': here
comes one of my master's kinsmen.
Samp. Yes, better, sir.
Abr. You lie.
70
Gregory, re-
They fight.
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time, all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, Lady MONTAGUE,
and BENVOLIO.
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary
And yours close fighting ere I did approach:
I drew to part them; in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd,
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung about his head, and cut the winds, 120
Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn.
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Lady Mon. O! where is Romeo? saw you him
Ben. Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
Beats down their swords.
Enter TYBALT.
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee. Have at thee, coward!
Tyb. What! art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Ben. I do but keep the peace: put up thy
sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What! drawn, and talk of peace; I hate
the word,
80
They fight. Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
First Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans ! 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!
Lady Cap. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you
for a sword?
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'dsun A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, 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: That most are busied when they're most alone, I, measuring his affections by my own, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Pursu'd my humour not pursuing his,
142
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: Should in the furthest east begin to draw But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Away from light steals home my heavy son, The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, And makes himself an artificial night. Black and portentous must this humour prove Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
154
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause
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.
Ben. I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good mark-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,
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?
Ben. See where he comes: so please you, step From love's weak childish bow she lives unaside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let 's away. Excunt MONTAGUE and Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ay me sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? 170 Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing! of nothing first created.
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick
health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
Rom. Good heart, at what?
Ben.
At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate to have it press'd
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
Soft, I will go along;
An 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 is that you love.
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes
huge waste;
For beauty starv'd with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
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
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
Ben. Be rul'd 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.
To call hers exquisite, in question more.
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows
Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost :
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell thou canst not teach me to forget.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The Same. A Street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant.
Cap. But 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 liv'd 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 29
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;
SCENE II.]
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:
30
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:
Which on more view, of many mine being one
May stand in number, though in reckoning nene.
To Servant, giving a paper.
Come, go with me.
Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names are written there, and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure 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.
In good time.
I must to the learned.
Serv. To supper; to our house.
Rom. Whose house?
Serv. My master's.
Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that
before.
79
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
Exit.
Rest you merry!
crush a cup of wine.
Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st,
With all the admired beauties of Verona :
Go thither; and with unattainted eve
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to
fires!
91
And these, who often drown'd could never die,
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars !
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by,
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye;
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love against some other maid
That I will show you shining at this feast,
And she shall scant show well that now shows
100
best.
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 lan-
guish :
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?
For your broken shin.
Rom.
Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad-
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.
Exeunt.
man is ;
Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd and tormented, and-Good den, good fellow.
Serv. God gi' good den. I pray, sir, can you
read?
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. 60
Serv. Perhaps you have learned it without
book: but, I pray, can you read any thing you see?
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Serv. Ye say honestly; rest you merry.
Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.
A Room in CAPULET'S House.
Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve
year old,
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird!
Enter JULIET.
God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
Signior Martino and his wife and daughters: County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively Helena. 72 A fair assembly; whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither?
Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse.
Lady Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
Jul. How now! who calls?
Nurse.
Jul.
What is your will?
Lady Cap. This is the matter. Nurse, give
leave awhile,
I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
We must talk in secret: nurse, come back again;
Thou know'st my daughter 's of a pretty age. 10
Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
Lady Cap. She's not fourteen.
Nurse.
And yet, to my teen
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, be it spoken, I have but four, How long is it now
She is not fourteen.
To Lammas-tide?
A fortnight and odd days.
Lady Cap.
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
Susan and she-God rest all Christian souls !—
But, as I said.
Were of an age. Well, Susan is with God;
She was too good for me.
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean'd, I never shall forget it,
|
