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Fetch me my rapier, boy :-What! dares the slave
1 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman? wherefore storm you so?
Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;
'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.
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.
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
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.
(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.
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, That fair, which love groan'd for, and would die, gapes to be his heir;
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
But passion lends them power, time means to meet, Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.
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:
(5) i. e. Himself.
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father, and refuse thy name :
Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? [Aside.
Call, good Mercutio.
Nay, I'll conjure too.-
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:
Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
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!-
O, that she knew she were!-
She speaks, yet she says nothing; What of that?
(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
So stumblest on my counsel?
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;
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,
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
And, but thou love me,8 let them find me here:
Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
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.
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek,
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
If my heart's dear love
Jul. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
Jul. I come, anon:-But if thou mean'st not
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.
By and by, I come :-
To lure this tassel-gentle5 back again!
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
So thrive my soul,—
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:
Jul. But to be frank,3 and give it thee again.
Rom. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,
Shall I send to thee?
At what o'clock to-morrow
At the hour of nine.
Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then.
Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
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.
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!
Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning
(6) Fetters. (7) Chance, fortune.
From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's' wheels:
Now ere the sun advance his burning eye,
None but for some, and yet all different.
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
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.
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
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
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
(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.
Not in a grave,
To lay one in, another out to have.
Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so.
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!!
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.
Rom. Good-morrow to you both. terfeit did I give you? ·
Mer. The slip, sir, the slip ;3 Can you not conceive?
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?
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.
Ben. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock.
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. '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
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. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
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
(9) It was the custom for servants to carry lady's fan.
(10) Good even.
(12) Hoary, mouldy.
(13) The burden of an old song.
(14) A term of disrespect in contradistinction to gentleman. (15) Roguery.