Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper,
Nor no without-book Prologue faintly spoke
After the prompter for our entrance.
But let them measure us by what they will,
We’ll measure them a measure, and be gone.
ROMEO
Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
MERCUTIO
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
ROMEO
Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
MERCUTIO
You are a lover; borrow Cupid’s wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
ROMEO
I am too sore empiercèd with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe;
Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.
MERCUTIO
And to sink in it should you burden love—
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
ROMEO
Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
Too rude, too boist’rous, and it pricks like thorn.
MERCUTIO
If love be rough with you, be rough with love.
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me a case to put my visage in,
A visor for a visor. What care I
What curious eye doth quote deformity?
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
⌈They put on visors⌉
BENVOLIO
Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.
ROMEO
A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart
Tickle the sense-less rushes with their heels,
For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase.
I’ll be a candle-holder and look on.
The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done.
⌈He takes a torch⌉
MERCUTIO
Tut, dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word.
If thou art dun we’ll draw thee from the mire
Of—save your reverence—love, wherein thou stickest
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
ROMEO
Nay, that’s not so.
MERCUTIO I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lights by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgement sits
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
ROMEO
And we mean well in going to this masque,
But ’tis no wit to go.
MERCUTIO Why, may one ask?
ROMEO
I dreamt a dream tonight.
MERCUTIO And so did I.
ROMEO
Well, what was yours?
MERCUTIO That dreamers often lie.
ROMEO
In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
MERCUTIO
O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
BENVOLIO Queen Mab, what’s she?
MERCUTIO
She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate stone
On the forefinger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomi
Athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep.
Her wagon spokes made of long spinners’ legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
Her traces, of the moonshine’s wat‘ry beams;
Her collars, of the smallest spider web;
Her whip, of cricket’s bone, the lash of film;
Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat
Not half so big as a round little worm
Pricked from the lazy finger of a maid.
Her chariot is an empty hazelnut
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;
O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on curtsies straight;
O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometime she gallops o’er a lawyer’s lip,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail
Tickling a parson’s nose as a lies asleep;
Then dreams he of another benefice.
Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plaits the manes of horses in the night,
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which once untangled much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she—
ROMEO Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk’st of nothing.
MERCUTIO True. I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air,
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being angered, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
BENVOLIO
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
ROMEO
I fear too early, for my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night’s revels, and expire the term
Of a despised life, closed in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
BENVOLIO Strike, drum.
They march about the stage and ⌈exeunt⌉
1.5 ⌈Peter⌉ and other Servingmen come forth with napkins
⌈PETER⌉ Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away?
He shift a trencher, he scrape a trencher!
FIRST SERVINGMAN When good manners shall lie all in one
or two men’s hands, and they unwashed too, ’tis a foul
thing.
⌈PETER⌉ Away with the joint-stools, remove the court–
cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece
of marzipan, and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in
Susan Grindstone and Nell. Anthony and Potpan I
SECOND SERVINGMAN Ay, boy, ready.
⌈PETER⌉ You are looked for and called for, asked for and
sought for, in the great chamber.
⌈FIRST⌉ SERVINGMAN We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys! Be brisk a while, and the longest liver take all.
⌈They come and go, setting forth tables and chairs.⌉ Enter ⌈Musicians, then⌉ at one door Capulet, ⌈his Wife,⌉ his Cousin, Juliet., ⌈the Nurse,⌉ Tybalt, his page, Petruccio, and all the guests and gentlewomen; at another door, the
masquers: ⌈Romeo, Benvolio and Mercutio⌉
CAPULET (to the masquers)
Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies that have their toes
Unplagued with corns will walk a bout with you.
Aha, my mistresses, which of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
She, I’ll swear, hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
Welcome, gentlemen. I have seen the day
That I have worn a visor, and could tell
A whispering tale in a fair lady’s ear
Such as would please. ’Tis gone, ’tis gone, ’tis gone.
You are welcome, gentlemen. Come, musicians, play.Music plays, and the masquers, guests, and gentlewomen dance. ⌈Romeo stands apart⌉
A hall, a hall! Give room, and foot it, girls.
(To Servingmen) More light, you knaves, and turn the
tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
(To his Cousin) Ah sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes
well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
For you and I are past our dancing days.⌈Capulet and his Cousin sit⌉
How long is’t now since last yourself and I
Were in a masque?
CAPULET’S COUSIN By’r Lady, thirty years.
CAPULET
What, man, ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much.
’Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five-and-twenty years; and then we masqued.
CAPULET’S COUSIN
’Tis more, ’tis more. His son is elder, sir.
His son is thirty.
CAPULET Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years ago.
ROMEO (to a Servingman)
What lady’s that which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight?
SERVINGMAN I know not, sir.
ROMEO
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear—
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
And, touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight,
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
TYBALT
This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. ⌈Exit page⌉
What, dares the slave
Come hither, covered 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.
CAPULET ⌈standing⌉
Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm you so?
TYBALT
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
A villain that is hither come in spite
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
CAPULET
Young Romeo, is it?
TYBALT ’Tis he, that villain Romeo.
CAPULET
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
A bears him like a portly gentleman,
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-governed 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,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
TYBALT
It fits when such a villain is a guest.
I’ll not endure him.
CAPULET He shall be endured.
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 soul.
You’ll make a mutiny among my guests,
You will set cock-a-hoop! You’ll be the man!
TYBALT
Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.
CAPULET Go to, go to,
You are a saucy boy. Is’t so, indeed?
This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what,
You must contrary me. Marry, ’tis time—
⌈A dance ends. Juliet retires to her place of stand, where Romeo awaits her⌉
(To the guests) Well said, my hearts! (To Tybalt) You are
a princox, go.
Be quiet, or—(to Servingmen) more light, more light!—
(to Tybalt) for shame,
I’ll make you quiet. (To the guests) What, cheerly, my
hearts!
⌈The music plays again, and the guests dance⌉
TYBALT
Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall. Exit
ROMEO (to Juliet, touching her hand)
If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentler sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
JULIET
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.
ROMEO
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers, too?
JULIET
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
ROMEO
O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do:
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
JULIET
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.
ROMEO
Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.He kisses her
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged.
JULIET
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
ROMEO
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.
He kisses her
JULIET You kiss by th’ book.
NURSE
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
⌈Juliet departs to her mother⌉
ROMEO
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 nursed her daughter that you talked withal.
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
ROMEO (aside) Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.
BENVOLIO
Away, be gone, the sport is at the best.
ROMEO
Ay, so I fear, the more is my unrest.
CAPULET
Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone.
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
⌈They whisper in his ear⌉
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.
(To his Cousin) Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late.
I’ll to my rest.
Exeunt Capulet, ⌈his Wife,⌉ and his Cousin. The guests, gentlewomen, masquers, musicians, and servingmen begin to leave
JULIET
Come hither, Nurse. What is yon gentleman?
NURSE
The son and heir of old Tiberio.
JULIET
What’s he that now is going out of door?
NURSE
Marry, that, I think, be young Petruccio.
JULIET
What’s he that follows here, that would not dance?
NURSE I know not.
JULIET
Go ask his name.The Nurse goes
If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
NURSE (returning)
His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.
JULIET ⌈aside⌉
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 tis? what’s tis?
JULIET A rhyme I learnt even now
Of one I danced withal.
One calls within ‘Juliet!’
NURSE Anon, anon.
Come, let’s away. The strangers all are gone. Exeunt
2.0 Enter Chorus
CHORUS
Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir.
That fair for which love groaned for and would die,
With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
But to his foe supposed 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 belovèd anywhere.
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Temp’ring extremities with extreme sweet. Exit
2.1 Enter Romeo
ROMEO
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
⌈He turns back and withdraws.⌉
Enter Benvolio with Mercutio
BENVOLIO (calling)
Romeo, my cousin Romeo, Romeo!
MERCUTIO
He is wise, and, on my life, hath stol’n him home to bed.
BENVOLIO
He ran this way, and leapt this orchard wall. Call, good Mercutio.
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 128
