Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Fetch me my rapier, boy :-What! dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?
Tyb.

'Tis he, that villain Romeo. 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, He bears him like a portly gentleman; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him, To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: I would not for the wealth of all this town, Here in my house, do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him, It is my will; the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns, And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; I'll not endure him.

1 Cap.

He shall be endur'd; What, goodman boy !—I say, he shall ;-Go to ;Am I the master here, or you? go to. You'll not endure him!—God shall mend my soulYou'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

1 Cap. Go to, go to, You are a saucy boy :-Is't so, indeed ?——This trick may chance to scath1 you;-I know what. You must contráry me! marry, 'tis timeWell said, my hearts:-You are a princox 2 go:Be quiet, or-More light, more light, for shame!I'll make you quiet; What!-Cheerly, my hearts. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meet

ing, Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall. [Exit.
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand
[To Juliet.
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this,-
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too
much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in

prayer. Rom. O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd.
[Kissing her.
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
Give me my sin again.

Jul.
You kiss by the book.
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word
with you.

(1) Do you an injury. (2) A coxcomb. (3) A collation of fruit, wine, &c.

Rom. What is her mother? Nurse. Marry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous: I nurs'd her daughter, that you talk'd withal; I tell you,-he, that can lay hold of her, Shall have the chinks.

Rom. 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 banquets 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, [To 2 Cap.] by my fay,4 it waxes late; I'll to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse. Jul. Come hither, nurse: What is yon gentleman? 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 there, 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? Jul. A rhyme I learn'd even now Of one I danc'd withal. [One calls within, Juliet. Nurse. Anon, anon:Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. [Exeunt.

Enter Chorus.

Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, That fair, which love groan'd for, and would die, gapes to be his heir;

And

affection

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

any

where:

But passion lends them power, time means to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.

ACT II.

SCENE I-An open place, adjoining Capulet's garden. Enter Romeo.

Rom. Can I go forward, when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth,5 and find thy centre out. [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it.

Enter Benvolio, and Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! Mer. He is wise; And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard all:

(4) Faith,

(5) i. e. Himself.

Jul.
Rom.

Ah me!
She speaks:-

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white up-turned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father, and refuse thy name :
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? [Aside.

Call, good Mercutio.
Mer.

Nay, I'll conjure too.-
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
Cry but-Ah me! couple but-love and dove;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
When king Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid.1-
He heareth not, stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape2 is dead, and I must conjure him.—
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle, Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down; That were some spite my invocation Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress' name, I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees,

To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar-tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.-
Romeo, good night;-I'll to my truckle-bed;
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we go?

Ben. Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here, that means not to be found. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Capulet's garden. Enter Romeo. Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.[Juliet appears above, at a window. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!-
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off-
It is my lady; O, it is my love:

O, that she knew she were!-

-

She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.-
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those
stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not night.
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!

(1) Alluding to the old ballad of the king and the beggar.

(2) This phrase in Shakspeare's time was used as an expression of tenderness.

Jul. 'Tis but thy name, that is my enemy;— Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose, By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes,5 Without that title:-Romeo, doff's thy name; And for that name, which is no part of thee, Take all myself. Rom. I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd

in night,

So stumblest on my counsel?

Rom.
By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me? and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb;
And the place death, considering who thou art,
If any
of my kinsmen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out :

And what love can do, that dares love attempt,
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let? to me.

Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

Jul. I would not for the world, they saw thee here. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their

sight;

And, but thou love me,8 let them find me here:
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this
place?

Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea,

(3) Humid, moist.

(4) A votary to the moon, to Diana. (5) Owns, possesses. (6) Do off.

(7) Hindrance. (8) Unless thou love me.

I would adventure for such merchandise.
Jul. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my
face;

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek,
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny,
What I have spoke; But farewell compliment!
Dost thou love me? I know, thou wilt say-Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my haviour1 light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.2
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant

moon,

Rom.

If my heart's dear love

Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be,
Ere one can say-It lightens. Sweet, good night!]
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart, as that within my breast!

Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow
for mine.

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world:
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not
well,

Re-enter Juliet, above.

Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable,

(1) Behaviour. (3) Free.

(2) Shy. (4) Inclination. (5) The male of the goshawk.

I do beseech thee,

Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

Jul.

By and by, I come :-
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.

To lure this tassel-gentle5 back again!
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
With repetition of my Romeo's name.

That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
Rom. What shall I swear by?
Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name:
Jul.
Do not swear at all; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious.self, Like softest music to attending ears!
Which is the god of my idolatry,
Jul. Romeo!
And I'll believe thee.

Rom.
Jul.

Rom.

So thrive my soul,—
Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit.
Rom: A thousand times the worse, to want thy
light.-

Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books;

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring slowly. Re-enter Juliet, above.

Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist!-O, for a falconer's voice,

Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
And yet I would it were to give again.
Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what pur-So
pose, love?

Jul. But to be frank,3 and give it thee again.
And yet I wish but for the thing I have :
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
[Nurse calls within.
I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu !
Anon, good nurse-Sweet Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.

[Exit.

Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

My sweet!

Shall I send to thee?
Rom.

At what o'clock to-morrow

At the hour of nine.

I

Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then.
have forgot why I did call thee back.
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it.
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
Rememb'ring how I love thy company.

Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.

Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,6 And with a silk thread plucks it back again, loving-jealous of his liberty.

Rom. I would, I were thy bird.

Jul.
Sweet, so would I:
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! parting is such sweet

sorrow,

That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow.

[Exit. Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell;
His help to crave, and my dear hap? to tell. [Exit.
SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Fri-
ar Laurence, with a basket.

Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning
night,
Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light;
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels

(6) Fetters. (7) Chance, fortune.
(8) Spotted, streaked.

From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's' wheels:

Now ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry,
I must fill up this osier cage
of ours,
With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb;
What is her burying grave, that is her womb:
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find;
Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace,2 that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use,
Revolis from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence, and med'cine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each
part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed foes encamp them still
In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will;
And, where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

Enter Romeo. father!

Rom. Good morrow, Fri. Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?Young son, it argues a distemper'd head, So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth, with unstuff'd brain, Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: Therefore thy earliness doth me assure, Thon art up-rous'd by some distemp❜rature; Or if not so, then here I hit it right— Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.

Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine.. Fri. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's wo. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou been then?

Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine enemy;
Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me,
That's by me wounded; both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies:
I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe.

Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love

is set

On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage: When, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us this day.

Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here Is Rosaline, whóm thou didst love so dear,

So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence
then-

(1) The sun. (2) Virtue.

(3) i. e. It is of the utmost consequence for me to be hasty.

Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
Rom. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
Fri.

Not in a grave,

To lay one in, another out to have.
Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she, whom I love

now,

Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so.

Fri.

O, she knew well, Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell, But come, young waverer, come go with me, In one respect I'll thy assistant be; For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households' rancour to pure love. Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.3 Fri. Wisely, and slow; they stumble, that run fast. [Exeunt. SCENE IV-A street. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?— Came he not home to-night?

Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted weneh, that Rosaline,

Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house.

Mer. A challenge, on my life.

Ben. Romeo will answer it.

Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a letter.

Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared.

Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot thorough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft ; And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?

Mer. More than prince of cats,5 I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song,6 keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house,-of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay!7

Ben. The what?

Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-By Jesu, a very good blade!-a very tall man!-a very good whore!-Why, is not this a lamentable

(4) Arrow. (5) See the story of Reynard the fox. (6) By notes pricked down.

(7) Terms of the fencing-school.

thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted || with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moys, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bons, their bons!!

Enter Romeo.

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring :-O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!-Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen-wench ;-Marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her: Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your French slop.2 You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

What coun

Rom. Good-morrow to you both. terfeit did I give you? ·

Mer. The slip, sir, the slip ;3 Can you not conceive?

[blocks in formation]

Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.

Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace,6 I have done; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: Was I with you there for the goose?

goose.

Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, when thou wast not there for the Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not.

Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.

Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?

Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel,8 that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad!

Rom. I stretch it out for that word-broad: which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature for this drivelling love is like a great

natural, that runs lolling up and down, to hide his bauble in a hole.

(1) In ridicule of Frenchified coxcombs. (2) Trowsers or pantaloons, a French fashion in Shakspeare's time.

(3) A pun on counterfeit money, called slips. (4) Shoe. (5) Slight, thin.

(6) A horse-race in any direction the leader chooses to take.

(7) An apple. (8) Soft stretching leather.

Ben. Stop there, stop there.

Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.

Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large.

Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have made it short: for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.

Rom. Here's goodly geer!

Enter Nurse and Peter.
Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail!

Ben. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock.
Nurse. Peter!

Peter. Anon?

Nurse. My fan, Peter.9

Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two.

Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
Nurse. Is it good den?

ไป

Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you? Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made himself to mar.

Nurse. By my troth, it is well said;-For himself to mar, quoth'a?-Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?

Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him, than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for 'fault of a worse. Nurse. You say

well.

Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i'faith; wisely, wisely.

Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.

Ben. She will indite him to some supper.
Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Rom. What hast thou found?

Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

Is

An old hare hoar,12 And an old hare hoar, very good meat in lent: But a hare that is hoar, Is too much for a score, When it hoars ere it be spent.

Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither.

Rom. I will follow you.

Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lady. 13 [Exe. Mer. and Ben. Nurse. Marry, farewell!-I pray you, what saucy merchant14 was this, that was so full of his ropery ?is

Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and will speak more in a minute, than he will stand to in a month.

Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll take him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and

the

(9) It was the custom for servants to carry lady's fan.

(11) Point.

(10) Good even.

(12) Hoary, mouldy.

(13) The burden of an old song.

(14) A term of disrespect in contradistinction to gentleman. (15) Roguery.

« AnteriorContinuar »