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Which, but their children's end, pought could re
move, ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
Is now the two hours' traffick of our stage;
SCENE I.-A publick Place.
Enter Samson and GREGORY, armed with sworus und Friar John, of the same order.
bucklers. BALTHAZAR, servant to Romeo. SAMPSON,
Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry
coais. GREGORY, S servants to Capulet.
Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. ABRAM, servant to Montague.
Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. An Apothecary.
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of Three Musicians.
the collar. Chorus.
Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Boy.
Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. Page to Paris.
Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. PETER.
Gre. To move is—to stir; and to be valiant, is An Officer.
to stand to it: therefore, if tnou art nov d, thou Lady MONTAGUE, wfe ro Montague.
Sam. A'dog cs that livuse shaii move me to stand: Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.
I will take the wall of any man or maid of MonJuliet, daughter to Capulet.
tague's. Nurse to Juliet.
Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the
weakest goes to the wall. Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, rela
Sam. True ; and therefore women, being the tions to both houses ; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall :-thereand Attendants.
fore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and
thrust his maids to the wall. SCENE,- during the greater Part of the Play, in
Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us
their men. VERONa; once in the Fifth Act, at MANTUA.
Sam. "Tis all one, I will show 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 ?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden
heads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Two households, both alike in dignity,
Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of Aesh.
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
comes two of the house of the Montagues. Whose misadventur'd piteous overthrows Do, with their death, bury their parents' strise.
Enter Abram and BALTHASAR. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Gre. How? turn thy back, and run ?
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.Sam. Fear me not.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, Gre. No, marry: I fear thee !
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; begin.
And made Verona's ancient citizens Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, take it as they list.
To wield our partizans, in hands as old, Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate : at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. If ever you disturb our streets again, Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.
For this time, all the rest depart away: Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir ?
You, Capulet, shall go along with me; Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay? And, Montague, come you this afternoon, Gre. No,
To know our further pleasure in this case, Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. but I bite my thumb, sir.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Gre. Do you quarrel, sir ?
[Exeunt Prince and Attendants; CAPULET, Abr. Quarrel, sir ? no, sir.
Lady CAPULET, TYBALT, Citizens, and Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good
Servants. a man as you.
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach ?Abr. No better.
Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began ? Sam. Well, sir.
Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, Enter Benvolio, at a distance.
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
I drew to part them; in the instant came Gre. Say-better; here comes one of our mas- The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; ter's kinsmen.
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, Sam. Yes, better, sir.
He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Abr. You lie.
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn : Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember while we were interchanging thrusts and blows, thy swashing blow.
( They fight. Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know Till the prince came, who parted either part. not what you do [Beats down their swords. La. Mon. I, where is "Romeo !--saw you him
to-day? Enter TYBALT.
Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these hartless Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun hinds ?
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword, Where,—underneath the grove of sycamore, Or manage it to part these men with me.
That westward rooteth from the city's side, Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace ? I hate So early walking did I see your son : the word,
Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
And stole into the covert of the wood: Here at thee coward.
[They fight. I, measuring his affections by my own,Enter several partizans of both houses, who join the Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,
That most are busied when they are most alone, fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. 1 Cit. Clube, bills, and partizans! strike ! beat Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, them down!
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Down with the Capulets ! down with the Montagues! Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sigbs :
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Enter CAPULET, in his gown ; and Lady CAPULET. Should in the further east begin to draw Cap. What noise is this ?-Give me my long The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, sword, ho!
Away from light steals home my heavy son, La. Cap. A cruteh, a crutch-Why call you for And private in his chamber pens himself; a sword ?
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, Cap. My .word, I say !-Old Montague is come, And makes himself an artificial night: And Aourishes his blade in spite of me.
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause ? Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him.
(foe. Ben. Have you impórtun'd him by any means ? I a. Mon. Thou shalt pot stir one foot to seek a Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends :
But he, his own affections' counsellor,
Is to himself-I will not say, how true
But to himself so secret and so close, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,
So far from sounding and discovery, Will they not hear what ho! you men, you As is the bud bit with an envious worm, beasts, –
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. With purple fountains issuing from your veins, Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands We would as willingly give cure, as koon. Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
O, she is rich in beauty; only poor,
Thai, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. See, where he comes : So please you, step
Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live aside;
(waste; I I know his grievance, or be much depied.
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing mares buge Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, For beauty, stary'd with her severity, T. hear true shrift.-Come, madam, let's away. Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
(Ereunt MONTAGUE and Lady. She is too fair, too wise ; wisely too fair Sen. Good morrow, cousin.
To merit bliss by making me despair : Kom.
Is the day so young ? She hath forsworn to love; and, in that ow, Ben. But new struck nine.
Do I live dead, that live to tell it non. Rom.
Ah me! sad hours seem long Ben. Be ruld by me, forget to think of her. Was that my father that went heuce so fast ?
Rom. O teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. It was :- What sadness lengthens Romeo's Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes ; hours ?
(short. Examine other beauties. Rom. Not having thai, which, having, makes them Rom.
'Tis the way Ben. In love ?
To call hers, exquisite, in question more : Rom. Out.
These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows, Ben. Of love?
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair; Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget
Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, The precious treasure of his eyesight lost : Fiould be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Wbat doth her beauty serve, but as a pote 8.ould, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair ? Where shall we dine 2-0 me! -What fray was Farewell; thou canst pot teach me to forget. here?
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Yot tell me not, for I have heard it all.
(Exeunt. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love :Why then, O brawling love ! O loving hate!
SCENE II.-A Street.
Enter CAPULET, Paris, und Servant.
Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, Puather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, Siill-waking sleep, that is not what it is !
For men so old as we to keep the peace. Töis love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Dost thou not laugh ?
And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long. Ben.
No, coz, I rather weep. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? Rom. Good heart, at what ?
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before Ben.
At thy good heart's oppression. My child is yet a stranger in the world, Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.- She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Let two more summers wither in their pride, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown, Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Loth add more grief to too much of mine own. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. J.ove is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; The earth bath swallow'd all my hopes but she, L'eing purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes ; She is the hopeful lady of my earth: Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears : But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, V hat is it else ? a madness most discreet,
My will to her consent is but a part; A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
An she agree, within her scope of choice Farewell, my coz.
(Going. Lies my consent and fair according voice. Ben. Soft, I will go along;
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
One more, most welcome, makes my number mure.
Groan ? why, do; Such comfort, as do lusty young men feel but sadly tell me, who.
When well apparell’d April on the heel
Among fresh female buds shall you this night In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. And like her most, whose merit most shall be : Rom. A right good marks-man-And she's fair Such, amongst view of many, mine, being one, I love.
May stand in number, though in reckoning none. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Come, go with me ;-Go, sirrah, trudge about Rom. Well
, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit Through fair Verona; find those persons out With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit;
Whose names are written there, (gives a paper.! And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
and to them say, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm’d. My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
(Exeunt CAPULET and Paris. Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
Serr. Find them out, whose names are writter. Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold :
bere? It is written—that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the taylor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his SCENE III-A Room in Capulet's House. nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names
Enter Lady CAPULET and Nurse. the writing person hath here writ. I must to the La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter ? call her learned :-la good time.
forth to me.
Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head, -at twelve Enter BENVOLIO ard RoMEO.
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird !
God forbid !-where's this girl ?-what, Juliet!
Your mother. One desperate grief cures with another's languish:
Madam, I am here Take thou some new infection to the eye,
What is your will ?
[awhile, And the rank poison of the old will die.
La. Cap. This is the matter :-Nurse, give learo Rom. Your plaintain leaf is excellent for that. We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; Ben. For what, I pray thee ?
I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counsel Rom.
For your broken shin. Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is: La. Cap. She's not fourteen. Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, Whipp'd and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four, fellow.
She is not fourteen- How long is it now Sero, God gi' good e’en.-I pray, sir, can you To Lammas-tide? read :
A fortnight, and odd days, Rom. Ay, mine wn fortune in my misery.
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Serv. Perhaps you have learn’d it without book : Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she he fourteen But I pray, can you read any thing you see ? Susan and she,-God rest all Christian souls !
Rom Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. Were of an age.- Well, Susan is with God;
That shall she, marry; I remember it well. County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; the lady and she was wean'd, --I never shall forget it,widow of Vitruvio ; Signior Placentio, and his lovely of all the days of the year, upon that day: nieces ; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine: Mine For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, uncie Capulet
, his wife, and daughters; My fair Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, niece Rosaline; Livia; Siynior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, und the lively Helena.
My lord and you were then at Mantua :
Nay, I do bear a brain :—but, as I said, A fair assembly; (gives back the note.] Whither when it did taste the wormwood on the nipple zhould they come ?
Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! Serv. Up:
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug. him. Whither ?
Shake, quoth the dove-house ; 'twas no need, I trow Serv. To supper; to our house.
To bid me trudge. Run, Whose house ?
And since that time it is eleven years : Eere. My master's.
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rosti, Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. She could have run and waddled all about.
Serr. Now I'll tell you without asking: My For even the day before, she broke her brow: master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not And then my husband—God be with his soul ! of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush 'A was a merry man ;-took up the child : a cup of wine. Rest you merry.
(Exit. Yea, quoth he, dost thou fall upon thy face? Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Thou wilt fall backward, when thou hast more wit, Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; Wilt thou not, Jule ? and, by my holy dam, With all the admired beauties of Verona :
The pretty wretch left crying, and said--Ay: Go thither; and with unattainted eye,
To see now, how a jest shall come about ! Compare her face with some that I shall show, I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, [he: And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule ? quoth
Rom. When the devout religion of inine eye And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said, Ay.
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires ! La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy And these,—who, often drown'd, could never die,
[laugh, Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars !
Nurse. Yes, madam; yet I cannot choose but One fairer than my love ! the all-seeing sun To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay: Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, A bump as big as a young cockrel's stone;
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.
Thou wilt fall backward, when thou com’st to age
Wilt thou not, Jule? it stinted, and said-Ay. And she shall scant show well, that now shows best. Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say l.
Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee vo Bat to rejoice in splendour of mine own. (Ereunt,
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. An I might live to see thee married once,
Rom. Not ì, believe me: you have dancing shoes, I have my wish.
With nimble soles : I bave a soul of lead,
Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft,
Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love ; Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Too great oppression for a tender thing. Are made already mothers: by my count,
Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, I was your mother much upon these years
Too rude, too boisť'rous; and it pricks like thorn. That you are now a maid. "Thus then, in brief;- Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
love; Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax. Give me a case to put my visage in : La. Cap. Verona's summer bath not such a flower.
(Putting on a mask. Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. A visor for a visor !—what care Ì, La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the gen- What curious eye doth quote deformities? tleman ?
Here are the beetle-brows, sball blush for me. This night you shall behold him at our feast :
Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, But every man betake him to his legs. And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; Rom. A torch for me: let wantons light of heart, Examine every married lineament,
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; And see how one another lends 'content;
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies,
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on, — Find written in the margin of his eyes.
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own To beautify him, only lacks a cover :
word: The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride, If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire For fair without the fair, within to hide :
Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, bo. That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; Rom. Nay, that's not so. So shall you share all that he doth possess,
I mean, sir, in delay By having him, making yourself no less. (men. We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Nurse. No less ? nay, bigger; women grow by Take our good meaning; for our judgmeni sils La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' Five times in that, ere once in our five wits. love ?
Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask, Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But 'tis no wit to go. But no more deep will I endart mine eye,
Why, may one ask ? Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
And so 2 1. Enter a Servant.
Rom. Well, what was yours ? Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served Mer.
That dreamers often lie. up, you called, my young lady asked for, the Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream thicgo nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in
you. extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with follow straight.
[stays. She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county in shape no bigger than an agate-stone Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. On the fore-finger of an alderman,
(Éreunt. Drawn with a team of little atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of cong spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; Enter Romeo, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with Five or The traces, of the smallest spider's web; Sir Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others.
The collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams : Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our Her whip, of cricket’s bone; the lash, of film :
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, Or shall we on without apology ?
Not half so big as a round little worm Ben. The date is out of such prolixity :
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid : We'll have no Cupid bood-wink'd with a scarf, Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke And in this state she gallops night by night After the prompter, for our entrance:
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love: But let them measure us by what they will, On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. O’er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees: Rom. Give me a torch, I am not for this am. O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream; bling;
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Being but heavy, I will hear the light.
Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted art