The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  If e’er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,

  Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.

  And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then:

  Women may fall when there’s no strength in men.

  ROMEO

  Thou chidd’st me oft for loving Rosaline.

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

  ROMEO

  And bad’st me bury love.

  FRIAR LAURENCE Not in a grave

  To lay one in, another out to have.

  ROMEO

  I pray thee, chide me not. Her I love now

  Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.

  The other did not so.

  FRIAR LAURENCE O, she knew well

  Thy love did read by rote, that 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.

  ROMEO

  O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast. Exeunt

  2.3 Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

  MERCUTIO Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?

  BENVOLIO

  Not to his father’s. I spoke with his man.

  MERCUTIO

  Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,

  Torments him so that he will sure run mad.

  BENVOLIO

  Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,

  Hath sent a letter to his father’s house.

  MERCUTIO

  A challenge, on my life.

  BENVOLIO Romeo will answer it.

  MERCUTIO Any man that can write may answer a letter.

  BENVOLIO Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he dares, being dared. is

  MERCUTIO Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead—stabbed with a white wench’s black eye, run through 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?

  ⌈BENVOLIO⌉ Why, what is Tybalt?

  MERCUTIO More than Prince of Cats. O, he’s the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing pricksong: keeps time, distance, and proportion. He rests his minim rests: 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 puntoreverso, the hai.

  BENVOLIO The what?

  MERCUTIO The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting phantasims, these new tuners of accent! ‘By Jesu, a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whore.’ Why is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these ‘pardon-me’s’, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones! Enter Romeo

  BENVOLIO Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

  MERCUTIO 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 a kitchen wench—marry, she had a better love to berhyme her—Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signor Romeo, bonjour. There’s a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

  ROMEO Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? 45

  MERCUTIO The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive ?

  ROMEO Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

  MERCUTIO That’s as much as to say such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

  ROMEO Meaning to curtsy.

  MERCUTIO Thou hast most kindly hit it.

  ROMEO A most courteous exposition.

  MERCUTIO Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

  ROMEO Pink for flower.

  MERCUTIO Right.

  ROMEO Why, then is my pump well flowered.

  MERCUTIO Sure wit, follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular.

  ROMEO O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!

  MERCUTIO Come between us, good Benvolio. My wits faints.

  ROMEO Switch and spurs, switch and spurs, or I’ll cry a match.

  MERCUTIO Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am 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?

  ROMEO Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.

  MERCUTIO I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.

  ROMEO Nay, good goose, bite not.

  MERCUTIO Thy wit is very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce.

  ROMEO And is it not then well served in to a sweet goose?

  MERCUTIO O, here’s a wit of cheverel, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad.

  ROMEO I stretch it out for that word ‘broad’, which, added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

  MERCUTIO 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.

  BENVOLIO Stop there, stop there.

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

  BENVOLIO Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. MERCUTIO 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. Enter the Nurse, and Peter, her man

  ROMEO Here’s goodly gear.

  ⌈BENVOLIO⌉ A sail, a sail!

  MERCUTIO Two, two—a shirt and a smock.

  NURSE Peter.

  PETER Anon.

  NURSE My fan, Peter.

  MERCUTIO Good Peter, to hide her face, for her fan’s the fairer face.

  NURSE God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

  MERCUTIO God ye good e’en, fair gentlewoman.

  NURSE Is it good e’en?

  MERCUTIO ’Tis no less, I tell ye: for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

  NURSE Out upon you, what a man are you!

  ROMEO One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for 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?

  ROMEO 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.

  MERCUTIO Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i’faith, wisely, wisely.

  NURSE (to Romeo) If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.

  BENVOLIO She will endite him to some supper.

  MERCUTIO A bawd, a bawd, a bawd. So ho!

  ROMEO What hast thou found?

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

  ⌈He walks by them and⌉ sings

  An old hare hoar

  And an old hare hoar

  Is 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.

  ROMEO I will follow you.

  MERCUTIO Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell, ⌈sings⌉ ‘lady, lady, lady’. Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio

  NURSE I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this th
at was so full of his ropery?

  ROMEO 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 anything against me, I’ll take him down an a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; an if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-jills, I am none of his skeans-mates. (To Peter) And thou must stand by, too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure.

  PETER I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon should quickly have been out; I warrant you, I dare draw as soon as another man if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side.

  NURSE Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! (To Romeo) Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out. What she bid me say I will keep to myself, but first let me tell ye if ye should lead her in a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say, for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

  ROMEO Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee—

  NURSE Good heart, and i’faith I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.

  ROMEO What wilt thou tell her, Nurse? Thou dost not mark me.

  NURSE I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which as I take it is a gentlemanlike offer.

  ROMEO Bid her devise

  Some means to come to shrift this afternoon,

  And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell

  Be shrived and married. (Offering money) Here is for

  thy pains.

  NURSE No, truly, sir, not a penny.

  ROMEO Go to, I say, you shall.

  NURSE ⌈taking the money⌉

  This afternoon, sir. Well, she shall be there.

  ROMEO

  And stay, good Nurse, behind the abbey wall.

  Within this hour my man shall be with thee

  And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,

  Which to the high topgallant of my joy

  Must be my convoy in the secret night.

  Farewell. Be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains.

  Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress.

  NURSE

  Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.

  ROMEO What sayst thou, my dear Nurse?

  NURSE

  Is your man secret? Did you ne‘er hear say

  ‘Two may keep counsel, putting one away’ ?

  ROMEO

  I warrant thee my man’s as true as steel.

  NURSE

  Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady.

  Lord, Lord, when ’twas a little prating thing—

  O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris,

  That would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul,

  Had as lief see a toad, a very toad,

  As see him. I anger her sometimes,

  And tell her that Paris is the properer man;

  But I’ll warrant you, when I say so she looks

  As pale as any clout in the versal world.

  Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin

  Both with a letter?

  ROMEO

  Ay, Nurse, what of that? Both with an ‘R’.

  NURSE Ah, mocker—that’s the dog’s name. ’R’ is for the—no, I know it begins with some other letter, and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.

  ROMEO Commend me to thy lady.

  NURSE Ay, a thousand times. Peter!

  PETER Anon.

  NURSE ⌈giving Peter her fan⌉ Before, and apace.

  Exeunt ⌈Peter and Nurse at one door, Romeo at another door⌉

  2.4 Enter Juliet

  JULIET

  The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse.

  In half an hour she promised to return.

  Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so.

  O, she is lame! Love’s heralds should be thoughts,

  Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams

  Driving back shadows over louring hills.

  Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love,

  And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

  Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

  Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve

  Is three long hours, yet she is not come.

  Had she affections and warm youthful blood

  She would be as swift in motion as a ball.

  My words would bandy her to my sweet love,

  And his to me.

  But old folks, many feign as they were dead—

  Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.Enter the Nurse and Peter

  O God, she comes! O honey Nurse, what news?

  Hast thou met with him ? Send thy man away.

  NURSE Peter, stay at the gate. Exit Peter

  JULIET

  Now, good sweet Nurse—O Lord, why look‘st thou sad ?

  Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;

  If good, thou sham’st the music of sweet news

  By playing it to me with so sour a face.

  NURSE

  I am a-weary. Give me leave a while.

  Fie, how my bones ache. What a jaunce have I!

  JULIET

  I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news.

  Nay, come, I pray thee speak, good, good Nurse, speak.

  NURSE

  Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay a while?

  Do you not see that I am out of breath?

  JULIET

  How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath

  To say to me that thou art out of breath?

  The excuse that thou dost make in this delay

  Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.

  Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that.

  Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance.

  Let me be satisfied: is’t good or bad?

  NURSE Well, you have made a simple choice. You know not how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he; though his face be better than any man‘s, yet his leg excels all men’s, and for a hand and a foot and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but, I’ll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench. Serve God. What, have you dined at home?

  JULIET

  No, no. But all this did I know before.

  What says he of our marriage—what of that?

  NURSE

  Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!

  It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

  My back—⌈Juliet rubs her back⌉

  a’ t’other side—ah, my back, my back!

  Beshrew your heart for sending me about

  To catch my death with jauncing up and down.

  JULIET

  I’faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.

  Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?

  NURSE Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a

  courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I warrant,

  a virtuous—where is your mother?

  JULIET

  Where is my mother? Why, she is within.

  Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!

  ‘Your love says like an honest gentleman

  “Where is your mother?” ’

  NURSE O, God’s Lady dear!

  Are you so hot? Marry come up, I trow.

  Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

  Henceforward do your messages yourself.

  JULIET

  Here’s such a coil ! Come, what says Romeo?

  NURSE

  Have you got leave to go to shrift today?

  JULIET I have.

  NURSE

  Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell.r />
  There stays a husband to make you a wife.

  Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks.

  They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news.

  Hie you to church. I must another way,

  To fetch a ladder by the which your love

  Must climb a bird’s nest soon, when it is dark.

  I am the drudge, and toil in your delight,

  But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

  Go, I’ll to dinner. Hie you to the cell.

  JULIET

  Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.

  Exeunt ⌈severally⌉

  2.5 Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  So smile the heavens upon this holy act

  That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!

  ROMEO

  Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can,

  It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

  That one short minute gives me in her sight.

  Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

  Then love-devouring death do what he dare—

  It is enough I may but call her mine.

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  These violent delights have violent ends,

  And in their triumph die like fire and powder,

  Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey

  Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,

  And in the taste confounds the appetite.

  Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

  Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

  Enter Juliet Somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo⌉

  Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot

  Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.

  A lover may bestride the gossamers

  That idles in the wanton summer air,

  And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

  JULIET

  Good even to my ghostly confessor.

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

  JULIET

  As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

  ROMEO

  Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

  Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more

  To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

  This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue

  Unfold the imagined happiness that both

  Receive in either by this dear encounter.