In half an hour she promis’d to return.
Perchance she cannot meet him: that’s not so. 5
O! she is lame: love’s heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams,
Driving back shadows over lowering hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion’d doves draw Love,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. 10
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’d be as swift in motion as a ball; 15
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 Nurse and PETER. 20
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.
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse; O Lord! why look’st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; 25
If good, thou sham’st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave awhile:
Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I had!
Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news. 30
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
Nurse. Jesu! what haste? can you not stay awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Jul. How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath? 35
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? 40
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?
Jul. 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 o’ t’ other side; O! my back, my back! 45
Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
To catch my death with jauncing up and down.
Jul. 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? 50
Jul. 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, 55
Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Jul. Here’s such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? 60
Jul. I have.
Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell,
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. 65
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. 70
Go; I’ll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
Jul. Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. [Exeunt.
Act II. Scene VI.
The Same. FRIAR LAURENCE’S Cell.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO.
Fri. L. So smile the heaven upon this holy act,
That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, 5
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. 10
Fri. L. 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: 15
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Enter JULIET.
Here comes the lady: O! so light a foot
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint: 20
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Fri. L. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. 25
Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much.
Rom. Ah! Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap’d 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 30
Unfold the imagin’d happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count their worth; 35
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth.
Fri. L. Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt. 40
Act III. Scene I.
Verona. A Public Place.
Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not ‘scape a brawl; 5
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says, ‘God send me no need of thee!’ and by the operation of the second cup draws him on the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.
Ben. Am I like such a fellow?
Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
Ben. And what to? 10
Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath la
in asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
Mer. The fee-simple! O simple!
Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not. 15
Enter TYBALT, and Others.
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den! a word with one of you.
Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.
Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.
Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving? 20
Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort’st with Romeo, —
Mer. Consort! What! dost thou make us minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here’s my fiddlestick; here’s that shall make you dance. ‘Zounds! consort!
Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
Or reason coldly of your grievances, 25
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
Mer. Men’s eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.
Enter ROMEO.
Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man. 30
Mer. But I’ll be hang’d, sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him ‘man.’
Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this, — thou art a villain. 35
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting; villain am I none,
Therefore farewell; I see thou know’st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries 40
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
Rom. I do protest I never injur’d thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise,
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
And so, good Capulet, which name I tender 45
As dearly as my own, be satisfied.
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? 50
Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.
Tyb. [Drawing.] I am for you.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. 55
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! [Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.
Mer. I am hurt. 60
A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
Ben. What! art thou hurt?
Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, ’tis enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page. 65
Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mer. No, ’tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door; but ’tis enough, ‘twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses! ‘Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.
Rom. I thought all for the best.
Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses! 70
They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it,
And soundly too: — your houses! [Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
Rom. This gentleman, the prince’s near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain’d 75
With Tybalt’s slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman. O sweet Juliet!
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften’d valour’s steel!
Re-enter BENVOLIO. 80
Ben. O Romeo, Romeo! brave Mercutio’s dead;
That gallant spirit hath aspir’d the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Rom. This day’s black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end. 85
Re-enter TYBALT.
Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-ey’d fury be my conduct now! 90
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again
That late thou gav’st me; for Mercutio’s soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company:
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. 95
Tyb. Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
Rom. This shall determine that. [They fight: TYBALT falls.
Ben. Romeo, away! be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. 100
Stand not amaz’d: the prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken: hence! be gone! away!
Rom. O! I am Fortune’s fool.
Ben. Why dost thou stay? [Exit ROMEO.
Enter Citizens, &c. 105
First Cit. Which way ran he that kill’d Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
First Cit. Up, sir, go with me.
I charge thee in the prince’s name, obey. 110
Enter PRINCE, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and Others.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Ben. O noble prince! I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, 115
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother’s child!
O prince! O cousin! husband! O! the blood is spill’d
Of my dear kinsman. Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague. 120
O cousin, cousin!
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did slay:
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg’d withal 125
Your high displeasure: all this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow’d,
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast, 130
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, 135
‘Hold, friends! friends, part!’ and, swifter than his tongue,
His agile ar
m beats down their fatal points,
And ‘twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; 140
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain’d revenge,
And to ‘t they go like lightning, for, ere I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain,
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. 145
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Lady Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife
And all those twenty could but kill one life. 150
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio’s friend, 155
His fault concludes but what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.
Prin. And for that offence
Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an interest in your hate’s proceeding, 160
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
But I’ll amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses; 165
Therefore use none; let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he’s found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence this body and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. [Exeunt.
Act III. Scene II.
The Same. CAPULET’S Orchard.
Enter JULIET.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus’ lodging; such a waggoner
As Phæthon would whip you to the west, 5
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That runaway’s eyes may wink, and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk’d of and unseen!
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites 10
By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play’d for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: 15
Hood my unmann’d blood, bating in my cheeks,
Masters of the Theatre Page 30
