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The Tragedie of Romeo and Juliet
Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.
Enter Sampson and Gregorywith Swords and Bucklersof the
Sampson. Gregory: A my word wee'l not carry coales
Greg. Nofor then we should be Colliars
Samp. I meanif we be in chollerwee'l draw
Greg. IWhile you liuedraw your necke out
Samp. I strike quicklybeing mou'd
Greg. But thou art not quickly mou'd to strike
Samp. A dog of the house of Mountaguemoues me
Greg. To moueis to stir: and to be valiantis to stand:
Thereforeif thou art mou'dthou runst away
Samp. A dogge of that house shall moue me to stand.
I will take the wall of any Man or Maid of Mountagues
Greg. That shewes thee a weake slauefor the weakest
goes to the wall
Samp. Trueand therefore women being the weaker
Vesselsare euer thrust to the wall: therefore I will push
Mountagues men from the walland thrust his Maides to
Greg. The Quarrell is betweene our Mastersand vs their men
Samp. 'Tis all oneI will shew my selfe a tyrant: when
I haue fought with the menI will bee ciuill with the
Maidsand cut off their heads
Greg. The heads of the Maids?
Sam. Ithe heads of the Maidsor their Maiden-heads
Take it in what sence thou wilt
Greg. They must take it sencethat feele it
Samp. Me they shall feele while I am able to stand:
And 'tis knowne I am a pretty peece of flesh
Greg. 'Tis well thou art not Fish: If thou had'stthou
had'st beene poore Iohn. Draw thy Toolehere comes of
the House of the Mountagues.
Enter two other Seruingmen.
Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrelI wil back thee
Gre. How? Turne thy backeand run
Sam. Feare me not
Gre. No marry: I feare thee
Sam. Let vs take the Law of our sides: let them begin
Gr. I wil frown as I passe by& let the[m] take it as they list
Sam. Nayas they dare. I wil bite my Thumb at them
which is a disgrace to themif they beare it
Abra. Do you bite your Thumbe at vs sir?
Samp. I do bite my Thumbesir
Abra. Do you bite your Thumb at vssir?
Sam. Is the Law of our sideif I say I?
Sam. No sirI do not bite my Thumbe at you sir: but
I bite my Thumbe sir
Greg. Do you quarrell sir?
Abra. Quarrell sir? no sir
Sam. If you do sirI am for youI serue as good a man as you
Abra. No better?
Samp. Well sir.
Gr. Say better: here comes one of my masters kinsmen
Abra. You Lye
Samp. Draw if you be men. Gregoryremember thy
Ben. Part Foolesput vp your Swordsyou know not
what you do.
Tyb. What art thou drawneamong these heartlesse
Hindes? Turne thee Benuoliolooke vpon thy death
Ben. I do but keepe the peaceput vp thy Sword
Or manage it to part these men with me
Tyb. What drawand talke of peace? I hate the word
As I hate hellall Mountaguesand thee:
Haue at thee Coward.
Enter three or foure Citizens with Clubs.
Offi. ClubsBilsand Partisonsstrikebeat them down
Downe with the Capuletsdowne with the Mountagues.
Enter old Capulet in his Gowneand his wife.
Cap. What noise is this? Giue me my long Sword ho
Wife. A crutcha crutch: why call you for a Sword?
Cap. My Sword I say: Old Mountague is come
And flourishes his Blade in spight of me.
Enter old Mountague& his wife.
Moun. Thou villaine Capulet. Hold me notlet me go
2.Wife. Thou shalt not stir a foote to seeke a Foe.
Enter Prince Eskaleswith his Traine.
Prince. Rebellious SubiectsEnemies to peace
Prophaners of this Neighbor-stained Steele
Will they not heare? What hoeyou Menyou Beasts
That quench the fire of your pernitious Rage
With purple Fountaines issuing from your Veines:
On paine of Torturefrom those bloody hands
Throw your mistemper'd Weapons to the ground
And heare the Sentence of your mooued Prince.
Three ciuill Broylesbred of an Ayery word
By thee old Capulet and Mountague
Haue thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets
And made Verona's ancient Citizens
Cast by their Graue beseeming Ornaments
To wield old Partizansin hands as old
Cankred with peaceto part your Cankred hate
If euer you disturbe our streets againe
Your liues shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time all the rest depart away:
You Capulet shall goe along with me
And Mountague come you this afternoone
To know our Fathers pleasure in this case:
To old Free-towneour common iudgement place:
Once more on paine of deathall men depart.
Moun. Who set this auncient quarrell new abroach?
Speake Nephewwere you bywhen it began:
Ben. Heere were the seruants of your aduersarie
And yours close fighting ere I did approach
I drew to part themin the instant came
The fiery Tibaltwith his sword prepar'd
Which as he breath'd defiance to my eares
He swong about his headand cut the windes
Who nothing hurt withallhist him in scorne.
While we were enterchanging thrusts and blowes
Came more and moreand fought on part and part
Till the Prince camewho parted either part
Wife. O where is Romeosaw you him to day?
Right glad am Ihe was not at this fray
Ben. Madaman houre before the worshipt Sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the East
A troubled mind draue me to walke abroad
Where vnderneath the groue of Sycamour
That West-ward rooteth from this City side:
So earely walking did I see your Sonne:
Towards him I madebut he was ware of me
And stole into the couert of the wood
I measuring his affections by my owne
Which then most soughtwher most might not be found:
Being one too many by my weary selfe
Pursued my Honournot pursuing his
And gladly shunn'dwho gladly fled from me
Mount. Many a morning hath he there beene seene
With teares augmenting the fresh mornings deaw
Adding to cloudesmore cloudes with his deepe sighes
But all so soone as the all-cheering Sunne
Should in the farthest East begin to draw
The shadie Curtaines from Auroras bed
Away from light steales home my heauy Sonne
And priuate in his Chamber pennes himselfe
Shuts vp his windoweslockes faire day-light out
And makes himselfe an artificiall night:
Blacke and portendous must this humour proue
Vnlesse good counsell may the cause remoue
Ben. My Noble Vncle doe you know the cause?
Moun. I neither know itnor can learne of him
Ben. Haue you importun'd him by any meanes?
Moun. Both by my selfe and many other Friends
But he his owne affections counseller
Is to himselfe (I will not say how true)
But to himselfe so secret and so close
So farre from sounding and discouery
As is the bud bit with an enuious worme
Ere he can spread his sweete leaues to the ayre
Or dedicate his beauty to the same.
Could we but learne from whence his sorrowes grow
We would as willingly giue cureas know.
Ben. See where he comesso please you step aside
Ile know his greeuanceor be much denide
Moun. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
To heare true shrift. Come Madam let's away.
Ben. Good morrow Cousin
Rom. Is the day so young?
Ben. But new strooke nine
Rom. Aye mesad houres seeme long:
Was that my Father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was: what sadnes lengthens Romeo's houres?
Ro. Not hauing thatwhich hauingmakes them short
Ben. In loue
Ben. Of loue
Rom. Out of her fauour where I am in loue
Ben. Alas that loue so gentle in his view
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proofe
Rom. Alas that louewhose view is muffled still
Should without eyessee path-wayes to his will:
Where shall we dine? O me: what fray was heere?
Yet tell me notfor I haue heard it all:
Heere's much to do with hatebut more with loue:
Why thenO brawling loueO louing hate
O any thingof nothing first created:
O heauie lightnesseserious vanity
Mishapen Chaos of welseeming formes
Feather of leadbright smoakecold firesicke health
Still waking sleepethat is not what it is:
This loue feele Ithat feele no loue in this.
Doest thou not laugh?
Ben. No CozeI rather weepe
Rom. Good heartat what?
Ben. At thy good hearts oppression
Rom. Why such is loues transgression.
Griefes of mine owne lie heauie in my breast
Which thou wilt propagate to haue it preast
With more of thinethis loue that thou hast showne
Doth adde more griefeto too much of mine owne.
Loueis a smoake made with the fume of sighes
Being purg'da fire sparkling in Louers eyes
Being vexta Sea nourisht with louing teares
What is it else? a madnessemost discreet
A choking galland a preseruing sweet:
Farewell my Coze
Ben. Soft I will goe along.
And if you leaue me soyou do me wrong
Rom. Tut I haue lost my selfeI am not here
This is not Romeohee's some other where
Ben. Tell me in sadnessewho is that you loue?
Rom. What shall I grone and tell thee?
Ben. Gronewhy no: but sadly tell me who
Rom. A sicke man in sadnesse makes his will:
A word ill vrg'd to one that is so ill:
In sadnesse CozinI do loue a woman
Ben. I aym'd so nearewhen I suppos'd you lou'd
Rom. A right good marke manand shee's faire I loue
Ben. A right faire markefaire Cozeis soonest hit
Rom. Well in that hit you missesheel not be hit
With Cupids arrowshe hath Dians wit:
And in strong proofe of chastity well arm'd:
From loues weake childish Bowshe liues vncharm'd.
Shee will not stay the siege of louing tearmes
Nor bid th' encounter of assailing eyes.
Nor open her lap to Sainct-seducing Gold:
O she is rich in beautieonely poore
That when she dieswith beautie dies her store
Ben. Then she hath swornethat she will still liue chast?
Rom. She hathand in that sparing make huge wast?
For beauty steru'd with her seuerity
Cuts beauty off from all posteritie.
She is too fairetoo wise: wisely too faire
To merit blisse by making me dispaire:
She hath forsworne to loueand in that vow
Do I liue deadthat liue to tell it now
Ben. Be rul'd by meforget to thinke of her
Rom. O teach me how I should forget to thinke
Ben. By giuing liberty vnto thine eyes
Examine other beauties
Ro. 'Tis the way to cal hers (exquisit) in question more
These happy maskes that kisse faire Ladies browes
Being blackeputs vs in mind they hide the faire:
He that is strooken blindcannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-sight lost:
Shew me a Mistresse that is passing faire
What doth her beauty serue but as a note
Where I may read who past that passing faire.
Farewell thou can'st not teach me to forget
Ben. Ile pay that doctrineor else die in debt.
Enter CapuletCountie Parisand the Clowne.
Capu. Mountague is bound as well as I
In penalty alikeand 'tis not hard I thinke
For men so old as weeto keepe the peace
Par. Of Honourable reckoning are you both
And pittie 'tis you liu'd at ods so long:
But now my Lordwhat say you to my sute?
Capu. But saying ore what I haue said before
My Child is yet a stranger in the world
Shee hath not seene the change of fourteene yeares
Let two more Summers wither in their pride
Ere we may thinke her ripe to be a Bride
Pari. Younger then sheare happy mothers made
Capu. And too soone mar'd are those so early made:
Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she
Shee's the hopefull Lady of my earth:
But wooe her gentle Parisget her heart
My will to her consentis but a part
And shee agreewithin her scope of choise
Lyes my consentand faire according voice:
This night I hold an old accustom'd Feast
Whereto I haue inuited many a Guest
Such as I loueand you among the store
One moremost welcome makes my number more:
At my poore houselooke to behold this night
Earth-treading starresthat make darke heauen light
Such comfort as do lusty young men feele
When well apparrel'd Aprill on the heele
Of limping Winter treadseuen such delight
Among fresh Fennell buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house: heare allall see:
And like her mostwhose merit most shall be:
Which one more veiwof manymine being one
May stand in numberthough in reckning none.
Comegoe with me: goe sirrah trudge about
Through faire Veronafind those persons out
Whose names are written thereand to them say
My house and welcomeon their pleasure stay.
Ser. Find them out whose names are written. Heere it
is writtenthat the Shoo-maker should meddle with his
Yardand the Tayler with his Lastthe Fisher with his
Pensilland the Painter with his Nets. But I am sent to
find those persons whose names are writ& can neuer find
what names the writing person hath here writ (I must to
the learned) in good time.
Enter Benuolioand Romeo.
Ben. Tut manone fire burnes out anothers burning
One paine is lesned by anothers anguish:
Turne giddieand be holpe by backward turning:
One desparate greefecures with anothers languish:
Take thou some new infection to the eye
And the rank poyson of the old wil die
Rom. Your Plantan leafe is excellent for that
Ben. For what I pray thee?
Rom. For your broken shin
Ben. Why Romeo art thou mad?
Rom. Not madbut bound more then a mad man is:
Shut vp in prisonkept without my foode
Whipt and tormented: and Godden good fellow
Ser. GodgigodenI pray sir can you read?
Rom. I mine owne fortune in my miserie
Ser. Perhaps you haue learn'd it without booke:
But I pray can you read any thing you see?
Rom. Iif I know the Letters and the Language
Ser. Ye say honestlyrest you merry
Rom. Stay fellowI can read.
He reades the Letter.
Seigneur Martinoand his wife and daughter: County Anselme
and his beautious sisters: the Lady widdow of Vtruuio
Seigneur Placentioand his louely Neeces: Mercutio and
his brother Valentine: mine vncle Capulet his wife and daughters:
my faire Neece RosalineLiuiaSeigneur Valentio& his
Cosen Tybalt: Lucio and the liuely Helena.
A faire assemblywhither should they come?
Rom. Whither? to supper?
Ser. To our house
Rom. Whose house?
Ser. My Maisters
Rom. Indeed I should haue askt you that before
Ser. Now Ile tell you without asking. My maister is
the great rich Capuletand if you be not of the house of
Mountagues I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest
Ben. At this same auncient Feast of Capulets
Sups the faire Rosalinewhom thou so loues:
With all the admired Beauties of Verona
Go thither and with vnattainted eye
Compare her face with some that I shall show
And I will make thee thinke thy Swan a Crow
Rom. When the deuout religion of mine eye
Maintaines such falshoodthen turne teares to fire:
And these who often drown'd could neuer die
Transparent Heretiques be burnt for liers.
One fairer then my loue: the all-seeing Sun
Nere saw her matchsince first the world begun
Ben. Tutyou saw her fairenone else being by
Herselfe poys'd with herselfe in either eye:
But in that Christall scaleslet there be waid
Your Ladies loue against some other Maid
That I will show youshining at this Feast
And she shew scant shellwellthat now shewes best
Rom. Ile goe alongno such sight to be showne
But to reioyce in splendor of mine owne.
Enter Capulets Wife and Nurse.
Wife. Nurse wher's my daughter? call her forth to me
Nurse. Now by my Maidenheadat twelue yeare old
I bad her comewhat Lamb: what Ladi-birdGod forbid
Where's this Girle? what Iuliet?
Iuliet. How nowwho calls?
Nur. Your Mother
Iuliet. Madam I am heerewhat is your will?
Wife. This is the matter: Nurse giue me leaue awhilewe
must talke in secret. Nurse come backe againeI haue remembred
methou'se heare our counsell. Thou knowest
my daughter's of a prety age
Nurse. Faith I can tell her age vnto an houre
Wife. Shee's not fourteene
Nurse. Ile lay fourteene of my teeth
And yet to my teene be it spoken
I haue but foureshee's not fourteene.
How long is it now to Lammas tide?
Wife. A fortnight and odde dayes
Nurse. Euen or oddeof all daies in the yeare come
Lammas Eue at night shall she be fourteene. Susan & she
God rest all Christian souleswere of an age. Well Susan
is with Godshe was too good for me. But as I saidon Lamas
Eue at night shall she be fourteenethat shall she marie
I remember it well. 'Tis since the Earth-quake now
eleuen yearesand she was wean'd I neuer shall forget it
of all the daies of the yearevpon that day: for I had then
laid Worme-wood to my Dug sitting in the Sunne vnder
the Douehouse wallmy Lord and you were then at
Mantuanay I doe beare a braine. But as I saidwhen it
did tast the Worme-wood on the nipple of my Dugge
and felt it bitterpretty fooleto see it teachieand fall out
with the DuggeShake quoth the Doue-house'twas no
neede I trow to bid mee trudgeand since that time it is
a eleuen yearesfor then she could stand alonenay bi'th'
roode she could haue runne& wadled all about: for euen
the day before she broke her brow& then my Husband
God be with his soulea was a merrie mantooke vp the
Childyea quoth heedoest thou fall vpon thy face? thou
wilt fall backeward when thou hast more witwilt thou
not Iule? And by my holy-damthe pretty wretch lefte
crying& said I: to see now how a Iest shall come about.
I warrant& I shall liue a thousand yearesI neuer should
forget it: wilt thou not Iule quoth he? and pretty foole it
stintedand said I
Old La. Inough of thisI pray thee hold thy peace
Nurse. Yes Madamyet I cannot chuse but laughto
thinke it should leaue crying& say I: and yet I warrant
it had vpon it browa bumpe as big as a young Cockrels
stone? A perilous knockand it cryed bitterly. Yea quoth
my husbandfall'st vpon thy facethou wilt fall backward
when thou commest to age: wilt thou not Iule? It
stinted: and said I
Iule. And stint thou tooI pray thee Nursesay I
Nur. Peace I haue done: God marke thee too his grace
thou wast the prettiest Babe that ere I nurstand I might
liue to see thee married onceI haue my wish
Old La. Marry that marry is the very theame
I came to talke oftell me daughter Iuliet
How stands your disposition to be Married?
Iuli. It is an houre that I dreame not of
Nur. An hourewere I not thine onely NurseI would
say thou had'st suckt wisedome from thy teat
Old La. Well thinke of marriage nowyonger then you
Heere in VeronaLadies of esteeme
Are made already Mothers. By my count
I was your Mothermuch vpon these yeares
That you are now a Maidethus then in briefe:
The valiant Paris seekes you for his loue
Nurse. A man young LadyLadysuch a man as all
the world. Why hee's a man of waxe
Old La. Veronas Summer hath not such a flower
Nurse. Nay hee's a flowerinfaith a very flower
Old La. What say youcan you loue the Gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our Feast
Read ore the volume of young Paris face
And find delightwrit there with Beauties pen:
Examine euery seuerall liniament
And see how one another lends content:
And what obscur'd in this faire volume lies
Find written in the Margent of his eyes.
This precious Booke of Louethis vnbound Louer
To Beautifie himonely lacks a Couer.
The fish liues in the Seaand 'tis much pride
For faire withoutthe faire within to hide:
That Booke in manies eyes doth share the glorie
That in Gold claspesLockes in the Golden storie:
So shall you share all that he doth possesse
By hauing himmaking your selfe no lesse
Nurse. No lessenay bigger: women grow by men
Old La. Speake brieflycan you like of Paris loue?
Iuli. Ile looke to likeif looking liking moue.
But no more deepe will I endart mine eye
Then your consent giues strength to make flye.
Enter a Seruing man.
Ser. Madamthe guests are comesupper seru'd vpyou
cal'dmy young Lady askt forthe Nurse cur'st in the Pantery
and euery thing in extremitie: I must hence to waitI
beseech you follow straight.
Mo. We follow theeIulietthe Countie staies
Nurse. Goe Gyrleseeke happie nights to happy daies.
Enter RomeoMercutioBenuoliowith fiue or sixe other Maskers
Rom. What shall this spech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without Apologie?
Ben. The date is out of such prolixitie
Weele haue no Cupidhood winkt with a skarfe
Bearing a Tartars painted Bow of lath
Skaring the Ladies like a Crow-keeper.
But let them measure vs by what they will
Weele measure them with a Measureand be gone
Rom. Giue me a TorchI am not for this ambling.
Being but heauy I will beare the light
Mer. Nay gentle Romeowe must haue you dance
Rom. Not I beleeue meyou haue dancing shooes
With nimble solesI haue a soale of Lead
So stakes me to the groundI cannot moue
Mer. You are a Louerborrow Cupids wings
And soare with them aboue a common bound
Rom. I am too sore enpearced with his shaft
To soare with his light feathersand to bound:
I cannot bound a pitch aboue dull woe
Vnder loues heauy burthen doe I sinke
Hora. And to sinke in it should you burthen loue
Too great oppression for a tender thing
Rom. Is loue a tender thing? it is too rough
Too rudetoo boysterousand it pricks like thorne
Mer. If loue be rough with yoube rough with loue
Pricke loue for prickingand you beat loue downe
Giue me a Case to put my visage in
A Visor for a Visorwhat care I
What curious eye doth quote deformities:
Here are the Beetle-browes shall blush for me
Ben. Come knocke and enterand no sooner in
But euery man betake him to his legs
Rom. A Torch for melet wantons light of heart
Tickle the sencelesse rushes with their heeles:
For I am prouerb'd with a Grandsier Phrase
Ile be a Candle-holder and looke on
The game was nere so faireand I am done
Mer. Tutduns the Mousethe Constables owne word
If thou art dunweele draw thee from the mire.
Or saue your reuerence louewherein thou stickest
Vp to the earescome we burne day-light ho
Rom. Nay that's not so
Mer. I meane sir I delay
We wast our lights in vainelightslightsby day;
Take our good meaningfor our Iudgement sits
Fiue times in thatere once in our fiue wits
Rom. And we meane well in going to this Maske
But 'tis no wit to go
Mer. Why may one aske?
Rom. I dreampt a dreame to night
Mer. And so did I
Rom. Well what was yours?
Mer. That dreamers often lye
Ro. In bed a sleepe while they do dreame things true
Mer. O then I see Queene Mab hath beene with you:
She is the Fairies Midwife& she comes in shape no bigger
then Agat-stoneon the fore-finger of an Alderman
drawne with a teeme of little Atomiesouer mens noses as
they lie asleepe: her Waggon Spokes made of long Spinners
legs: the Couer of the wings of Grashoppersher
Traces of the smallest Spiders webher coullers of the
Moonshines watry Beamesher Whip of Crickets bone
the Lash of Philomeher Waggonera small gray-coated
Gnatnot halfe so bigge as a round little Wormeprickt
from the Lazie-finger of a man. Her Chariot is an emptie
Haselnutmade by the Ioyner Squirrel or old Grubtime
out a mindthe Faries Coach-makers: & in this state she
gallops night by nightthrough Louers braines: and then
they dreame of Loue. On Courtiers kneesthat dreame on
Cursies strait: ore Lawyers fingerswho strait dreampt on
Feesore Ladies lipswho strait on kisses dreamewhich
oft the angry Mab with blisters plaguesbecause their
breath with Sweet meats tainted are. Sometime she gallops
ore a Courtiers nose& then dreames he of smelling
out a sute: & somtime comes she with Tith pigs taletickling
a Parsons nose as a lies asleepethen he dreames of
another Benefice. Sometime she driueth ore a Souldiers
necke& then dreames he of cutting Forraine throatsof
BreachesAmbuscadosSpanish Blades: Of Healths fiue
Fadome deepeand then anon drums in his earesat which
he startes and wakes; and being thus frightedsweares a
prayer or two & sleepes againe: this is that very Mab that
plats the manes of Horses in the night: & bakes the Elklocks
in foule sluttish haireswhich once vntangledmuch
This is the hagwhen Maides lie on their backs
That presses themand learnes them first to beare
Making them women of good carriage:
This is she
Rom. PeacepeaceMercutio peace
Thou talk'st of nothing
Mer. TrueI talke of dreames:
Which are the children of an idle braine
Begot of nothingbut vaine phantasie
Which is as thin of substance as the ayre
And more inconstant then the windwho wooes
Euen now the frozen bosome of the North:
And being anger'dpuffes away from thence
Turning his side to the dew dropping South
Ben. This wind you talke of blowes vs from our selues
Supper is doneand we shall come too late
Rom. I feare too earlyfor my mind misgiues
Some consequence yet hanging in the starres
Shall bitterly begin his fearefull date
With this nights reuelsand expire the tearme
Of a despised life clos'd in my brest:
By some vile forfeit of vntimely death.
But he that hath the stirrage of my course
Direct my sute: on lustie Gentlemen
Ben. Strike Drum.
They march about the Stageand Seruingmen come forth with
Ser. Where's Potpanthat he helpes not to take away?
He shift a Trencher? he scrape a Trencher?
1. When good mannersshall lie in one or two mens
handsand they vnwasht too'tis a foule thing
Ser. Away with the Ioynstoolesremoue the Courtcubbord
looke to the Plate: good thousaue mee a piece
of Marchpaneand as thou louest melet the Porter let in
Susan Grindstoneand NellAnthonie and Potpan
2. I Boy readie
Ser. You are lookt forand cal'd foraskt for& sought
forin the great Chamber
1. We cannot be here and there toochearly Boyes
Be brisk awhileand the longer liuer take all.
Enter all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.
1. Capu. Welcome Gentlemen
Ladies that haue their toes
Vnplagu'd with Corneswill walke about with you:
Ah my Mistresseswhich of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty
She Ile sweare hath Cornes: am I come neare ye now?
Welcome GentlemenI haue seene the day
That I haue worne a Visorand could tell
A whispering tale in a faire Ladies eare:
Such as would please: 'tis gone'tis gone'tis gone
You are welcome Gentlemencome Musitians play:
Musicke plaies: and they dance.
A HallHallgiue roomeand foote it Girles
More light you knauesand turne the Tables vp:
And quench the firethe Roome is growne too hot.
Ah sirrahthis vnlookt for sport comes well:
Nay sitnay sitgood Cozin Capulet
For you and I are past our dauncing daies:
How long 'ist now since last your selfe and I
Were in a Maske?
2. Capu. Berlady thirty yeares
1. Capu. What man: 'tis not so much'tis not so much
'Tis since the Nuptiall of Lucentio
Come Pentycost as quickely as it will
Some fiue and twenty yearesand then we Maskt
2. Cap. 'Tis more'tis morehis Sonne is elder sir:
His Sonne is thirty
3. Cap. Will you tell me that?
His Sonne was but a Ward two yeares agoe
Rom. What Ladie is that which doth inrich the hand
Of yonder Knight?
Ser. I know not sir
Rom. O she doth teach the Torches to burne bright:
It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night
As a rich Iewel in an aethiops eare:
Beauty too rich for vsefor earth too deare:
So shewes a Snowy Doue trooping with Crowes
As yonder Lady ore her fellowes showes;
The measure doneIle watch her place of stand
And touching hersmake blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart loue till nowforsweare it sight
For I neuer saw true Beauty till this night
Tib. This by his voiceshould be a Mountague.
Fetch me my Rapier Boywhat dares the slaue
Come hither couer'd with an antique face
To fleere and scorne at our Solemnitie?
Now by the stocke and Honour of my kin
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin
Cap. Why how now kinsman
Wherefore storme you so?
Tib. Vncle this is a Mountagueour foe:
A Villaine that is hither come in spight
To scorne at our Solemnitie this night
Cap. Young Romeo is it?
Tib. 'Tis hethat Villaine Romeo
Cap. Content thee gentle Cozlet him alone
A beares him like a portly Gentleman:
And to say truthVerona brags of him
To be a vertuous and well gouern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all the towne
Here in my house do him disparagement:
Therfore be patienttake no note of him
It is my willthe which if thou respect
Shew a faire presenceand put off these frownes
An ill beseeming semblance for a Feast
Tib. It fits when such a Villaine is a guest
Ile not endure him
Cap. He shall be endur'd.
What goodman boyI say he shallgo too
Am I the Maister here or you? go too
Youle not endure himGod shall mend my soule
Youle make a Mutinie among the Guests:
You will set cocke a hoopeyoule be the man
Tib. Why Vncle'tis a shame
Cap. Go toogo too
You are a sawcy Boy'ist so indeed?
This tricke may chance to scath youI know what
You must contrary memarry 'tis time.
Well said my heartsyou are a Princoxgoe
Be quietor more lightmore light for shame
Ile make you quiet. Whatchearely my hearts
Tib. Patience perforcewith wilfull choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting:
I will withdrawbut this intrusion shall
Now seeming sweetconuert to bitter gall.
Rom. If I prophane with my vnworthiest hand
This holy shrinethe gentle sin is this
My lips to blushing Pilgrims did ready stand
To smooth that rough touchwith a tender kisse
Iul. Good Pilgrime
You do wrong your hand too much.
Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this
For Saints haue handsthat Pilgrims hands do tuch
And palme to palmeis holy Palmers kisse
Rom. Haue not Saints lipsand holy Palmers too?
Iul. I Pilgrimlips that they must vse in prayer
Rom. O then deare Saintlet lips do what hands do
They pray (grant thou) least faith turne to dispaire
Iul. Saints do not moue
Though grant for prayers sake
Rom. Then moue not while my prayers effect I take:
Thus from my lipsby thine my sin is purg'd
Iul. Then haue my lips the sin that they haue tooke
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespasse sweetly vrg'd:
Giue me my sin againe
Iul. You kisse by'th' booke
Nur. Madam your Mother craues a word with you
Rom. What is her Mother?
Nurs. Marrie Batcheler
Her Mother is the Lady of the house
And a good Ladyand a wiseand Vertuous
I Nur'st her Daughter that you talkt withall:
I tell youhe that can lay hold of her
Shall haue the chincks
Rom. Is she a Capulet?
O deare account! My life is my foes debt
Ben. Awaybe gonethe sport is at the best
Rom. I so I fearethe more is my vnrest
Cap. Nay Gentlemen prepare not to be gone
We haue a trifling foolish Banquet towards:
Is it e'ne so? why then I thanke you all.
I thanke you honest Gentlemengood night:
More Torches here: come onthen let's to bed.
Ah sirrahby my faie it waxes late
Ile to my rest
Iuli. Come hither Nurse
What is yond Gentleman:
Nur. The Sonne and Heire of old Tyberio
Iuli. What's he that now is going out of doore?
Nur. Marrie that I thinke be young Petruchio
Iul. What's he that follows here that would not dance?
Nur. I know not
Iul. Go aske his name: if he be married
My graue is like to be my wedded bed
Nur. His name is Romeoand a Mountague
The onely Sonne of your great Enemie
Iul. My onely Loue sprung from my onely hate
Too early seenevnknowneand knowne too late
Prodigious birth of Loue it is to me
That I must loue a loathed Enemie
Nur. What's this? whats this?
Iul. A rimeI learne euen now
Of one I dan'st withall.
One cals withinIuliet.
Come let's awaythe strangers all are gone.
Chorus. Now old desire doth in his death bed lie
And yong affection gapes to be his Heire
That fairefor which Loue gron'd for and would die
With tender Iuliet matchtis now not faire.
Now Romeo is belouedand Loues againe
A like bewitched by the charme of lookes:
But to his foe suppos'd he must complaine
And she steale Loues sweet bait from fearefull hookes:
Being held a foehe may not haue accesse
To breath such vowes as Louers vse to sweare
And she as much in Loueher meanes much lesse
To meete her new Beloued any where:
But passion lends them Powertimemeanes to meete
Temp'ring extremities with extreame sweete.
Enter Romeo alone.
Rom. Can I goe forward when my heart is here?
Turne backe dull earthand find thy Center out.
Enter Benuoliowith Mercutio.
Ben. Romeomy Cozen RomeoRomeo
Merc. He is wise
And on my life hath stolne him home to bed
Ben. He ran this way and leapt this Orchard wall.
Call good Mercutio:
NayIle coniure too
Appeare thou in the likenesse of a sigh
Speake but one timeand I am satisfied:
Cry me but ay meProuantbut Loue and day
Speake to my goship Venus one faire word
One Nickname for her purblind Sonne and her
Young Abraham Cupid he that shot so true
When King Cophetua lou'd the begger Maid
He heareth nothe stirreth nothe moueth not
The Ape is deadI must coniure him
I coniure thee by Rosalines bright eyes
By her High foreheadand her Scarlet lip
By her Fine footeStraight legand Quiuering thigh
And the Demeanesthat there Adiacent lie
That in thy likenesse thou appeare to vs
Ben. And if he heare thee thou wilt anger him
Mer. This cannot anger himt'would anger him
To raise a spirit in his Mistresse circle
Of some strange natureletting it stand
Till she had laid itand coniured it downe
That were some spight.
My inuocation is faire and honest& in his Mistris name
I coniure onely but to raise vp him
Ben. Comehe hath hid himselfe among these Trees
To be consorted with the Humerous night:
Blind is his Loueand best befits the darke
Mer. If Loue be blindLoue cannot hit the marke
Now will he sit vnder a Medler tree
And wish his Mistresse were that kind of Fruite
As Maides cal Medlers when they laugh alone
O Romeo that she wereO that she were
An openor thou a Poprin Peare
Romeo goodnightIle to my Truckle bed
This Field-bed is to cold for me to sleepe
Come shall we go?
Ben. Go thenfor 'tis in vaine to seeke him here
That meanes not to be found.
Rom. He ieasts at Scarres that neuer felt a wound
But softwhat light through yonder window breaks?
It is the Eastand Iuliet is the Sunne
Arise faire Sun and kill the enuious Moone
Who is already sicke and pale with griefe
That thou her Maid art far more faire then she:
Be not her Maid since she is enuious
Her Vestal liuery is but sicke and greene
And none but fooles do weare itcast it off:
It is my LadyO it is my LoueO that she knew she were
She speakesyet she sayes nothingwhat of that?
Her eye discoursesI will answere it:
I am too bold 'tis not to me she speakes:
Two of the fairest starres in all the Heauen
Hauing some businesse do entreat her eyes
To twinckle in their Spheres till they returne.
What if her eyes were therethey in her head
The brightnesse of her cheeke would shame those starres
As day-light doth a Lampeher eye in heauen
Would through the ayrie Region streame so bright
That Birds would singand thinke it were not night:
See how she leanes her cheeke vpon her hand.
O that I were a Gloue vpon that hand
That I might touch that cheeke
Iul. Ay me
Rom. She speakes.
Oh speake againe bright Angellfor thou art
As glorious to this night being ore my head
As is a winged messenger of heauen
Vnto the white vpturned wondring eyes
Of mortalls that fall backe to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazie puffing Cloudes
And sailes vpon the bosome of the ayre
Iul. O RomeoRomeowherefore art thou Romeo?
Denie thy Father and refuse thy name:
Or if thou wilt notbe but sworne to my Loue
And Ile no longer be a Capulet
Rom. Shall I heare moreor shall I speake at this?
Iu. 'Tis but thy name that is my Enemy:
Thou art thy selfethough not a Mountague
What's Mountague? it is nor hand nor foote
Nor armenor faceO be some other name
Belonging to a man.
What? in a names that which we call a Rose
By any other word would smell as sweete
So Romeo wouldwere he not Romeo cal'd
Retaine that deare perfection which he owes
Without that title Romeodoffe thy name
And for thy name which is no part of thee
Take all my selfe
Rom. I take thee at thy word:
Call me but Loueand Ile be new baptiz'd
Hence foorth I neuer will be Romeo
Iuli. What man art thouthat thus bescreen'd in night
So stumblest on my counsell?
Rom. By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
My name deare Saintis hatefull to my selfe
Because it is an Enemy to thee
Had I it writtenI would teare the word
Iuli. My eares haue yet not drunke a hundred words
Of thy tongues vtteringyet I know the sound.
Art thou not Romeoand a Montague?
Rom. Neither faire Maidif either thee dislike
Iul. How cam'st thou hither.
Tell meand wherefore?
The Orchard walls are highand hard to climbe
And the place deathconsidering who thou art
If any of my kinsmen find thee here
Rom. With Loues light wings
Did I ore-perch these Walls
For stony limits cannot hold Loue out
And what Loue can dothat dares Loue attempt:
Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me
Iul. If they do see theethey will murther thee
Rom. Alacke there lies more perill in thine eye
Then twenty of their Swordslooke thou but sweete
And I am proofe against their enmity
Iul. I would not for the world they saw thee here
Rom. I haue nights cloake to hide me from their eyes
And but thou loue melet them finde me here
My life were better ended by their hate
Then death proroged wanting of thy Loue
Iul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
Rom. By Loue that first did prompt me to enquire
He lent me counselland I lent him eyes
I am no Pylotyet wert thou as far
As that vast-shore-washet with the farthest Sea
I should aduenture for such Marchandise
Iul. Thou knowest the maske of night is on my face
Else would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeke
For that which thou hast heard me speake to night
Faine would I dwell on formefainefainedenie
What I haue spokebut farewell Complement
Doest thou Loue? I know thou wilt say I
And I will take thy wordyet if thou swear'st
Thou maiest proue false: at Louers periuries
They say Ioue laughtoh gentle Romeo
If thou dost Louepronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly wonne
Ile frowne and be peruerseand say thee nay
So thou wilt wooe: But else not for the world.
In truth faire Mountague I am too fond:
And therefore thou maiest thinke my behauiour light
But trust me GentlemanIle proue more true
Then those that haue coying to be strange
I should haue beene more strangeI must confesse
But that thou ouer heard'st ere I was ware
My true Loues passiontherefore pardon me
And not impute this yeelding to light Loue
Which the darke night hath so discouered
Rom. Ladyby yonder Moone I vow
That tips with siluer all these Fruite tree tops
Iul. O sweare not by the Mooneth' inconstant Moone
That monethly changes in her circled Orbe
Least that thy Loue proue likewise variable
Rom. What shall I sweare by?
Iul. Do not sweare at all:
Or if thou wilt sweare by thy gratious selfe
Which is the God of my Idolatry
And Ile beleeue thee
Rom. If my hearts deare loue
Iuli. Well do not swearealthough I ioy in thee:
I haue no ioy of this contract to night
It is too rashtoo vnaduis'dtoo sudden
Too like the lightning which doth cease to be
Ereone can sayit lightensSweete good night:
This bud of Loue by Summers ripening breath
May proue a beautious Flower when next we meete:
Goodnightgoodnightas sweete repose and rest
Come to thy heartas that within my brest
Rom. O wilt thou leaue me so vnsatisfied?
Iuli. What satisfaction can'st thou haue to night?
Ro. Th' exchange of thy Loues faithfull vow for mine
Iul. I gaue thee mine before thou did'st request it:
And yet I would it were to giue againe
Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it
For what purpose Loue?
Iul. But to be franke and giue it thee againe
And yet I wish but for the thing I haue
My bounty is as boundlesse as the Sea
My Loue as deepethe more I giue to thee
The more I hauefor both are Infinite:
I heare some noyse within deare Loue adue:
Anon good Nursesweet Mountague be true:
Stay but a littleI will come againe
Rom. O blessed blessed nightI am afear'd
Being in nightall this is but a dreame
Too flattering sweet to be substantiall
Iul. Three words deare Romeo
And goodnight indeed
If that thy bent of Loue be Honourable
Thy purpose marriagesend me word to morrow
By one that Ile procure to come to thee
Where and what time thou wilt performe the right
And all my Fortunes at thy foote Ile lay
And follow thee my Lord throughout the world
I comeanon: but if thou meanest not well
I do beseech thee
(By and by I come)
To cease thy strifeand leaue me to my griefe
To morrow will I send
Rom. So thriue my soule
Iu. A thousand times goodnight.
Rome. A thousand times the worse to want thy light
Loue goes toward Loue as school-boyes fro[m] their books
But Loue fro[m] Louetowards schoole with heauie lookes.
Enter Iuliet againe.
Iul. Hist Romeo hist: O for a Falkners voice
To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe
Bondage is hoarseand may not speake aloud
Else would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies
And make her ayrie tongue more hoarsethen
With repetition of my Romeo
Rom. It is my soule that calls vpon my name.
How siluer sweetsound Louers tongues by night
Like softest Musicke to attending eares
Rom. My Neece
Iul. What a clock to morrow
Shall I send to thee?
Rom. By the houre of nine
Iul. I will not faile'tis twenty yeares till then
I haue forgot why I did call thee backe
Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it
Iul. I shall forgetto haue thee still stand there
Remembring how I Loue thy company
Rom. And Ile still stayto haue thee still forget
Forgetting any other home but this
Iul. 'Tis almost morningI would haue thee gone
And yet no further then a wantons Bird
That let's it hop a little from his hand
Like a poore prisoner in his twisted Gyues
And with a silken thred plucks it backe againe
So louing Iealous of his liberty
Rom. I would I were thy Bird
Iul. Sweet so would I
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing:
Good nightgood night
Rom. Parting is such sweete sorrow
That I shall say goodnighttill it be morrow
Iul. Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyespeace in thy brest
Rom. Would I were sleepe and peace so sweet to rest
The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night
Checkring the Easterne Clouds with streakes of light
And darkenesse fleckel'd like a drunkard reeles
From forth dayes pathwaymade by Titans wheeles.
Hence will I to my ghostly Friers close Cell
His helpe to craueand my deare hap to tell.
Enter Frier alone with a basket.
Fri. The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night
Checkring the Easterne Cloudes with streaks of light:
And fleckled darknesse like a drunkard reeles
From forth daies pathand Titans burning wheeles:
Now ere the Sun aduance his burning eye
The day to cheereand nights danke dew to dry
I must vpfill this Osier Cage of ours
With balefull weedesand precious Iuiced flowers
The earth that's Natures motheris her Tombe
What is her burying graue that is her wombe:
And from her wombe children of diuers kind
We sucking on her naturall bosome find:
Many for many vertues excellent:
None but for someand yet all different.
O mickle is the powerfull grace that lies
In PlantsHearbsstonesand their true qualities:
For nought so vilethat on earth doth liue
But to the earth some speciall good doth giue.
Nor ought so goodbut strain'd from that faire vse
Reuolts from true birthstumbling on abuse.
Vertue it selfe turnes vice being misapplied
And vice sometime by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this weake flower
Poyson hath residenceand medicine power:
For this being smeltwith that part cheares each part
Being tasted stayes all sences with the heart.
Two such opposed Kings encampe them still
In man as well as Hearbesgrace and rude will:
And where the worser is predominant
Full soone the Canker death eates vp that Plant
Rom. Good morrow Father
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
Young Sonneit argues a distempered head
So soone to bid goodmorrow to thy bed;
Care keepes his watch in euery old mans eye
And where Care lodgessleepe will neuer lye:
But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braine
Doth couch his limstheregolden sleepe doth raigne;
Therefore thy earlinesse doth me assure
Thou art vprous'd with some distemprature;
Or if not sothen here I hit it right.
Our Romeo hath not beene in bed to night
Rom. That last is truethe sweeter rest was mine
Fri. God pardon sin: wast thou with Rosaline?
Rom. With Rosalinemy ghostly Father? No
I haue forgot that nameand that names woe
Fri. That's my good Sonbut wher hast thou bin then?
Rom. Ile tell thee ere thou aske it me agen:
I haue beene feasting with mine enemie
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me
That's by me wounded: both our remedies
Within thy helpe and holy phisicke lies:
I beare no hatredblessed man: for loe
My intercession likewise steads my foe
Fri. Be plaine good Sonrest homely in thy drift
Ridling confessionfindes but ridling shrift
Rom. Then plainly know my hearts deare Loue is set
On the faire daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hersso hers is set on mine;
And all combin'dsaue what thou must combine
By holy marriage: when and whereand how
We metwe wooedand made exchange of vow:
Ile tell thee as we passebut this I pray
That thou consent to marrie vs to day
Fri. Holy S[aint]. Franciswhat a change is heere?
Is Rosaline that thou didst Loue so deare
So soone forsaken? young mens Loue then lies
Not truely in their heartsbut in their eyes.
Iesu Mariawhat a deale of brine
Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline?
How much salt water throwne away in wast
To season Loue that of it doth not tast.
The Sun not yet thy sighesfrom heauen cleares
Thy old grones yet ringing in my auncient eares:
Lo here vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit
Of an old teare that is not washt off yet.
If ere thou wast thy selfeand these woes thine
Thou and these woeswere all for Rosaline.
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then
Women may fallwhen there's no strength in men
Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for louing Rosaline
Fri. For dotingnot for louing pupill mine
Rom. And bad'st me bury Loue
Fri. Not in a graue
To lay one inanother out to haue
Rom. I pray thee chide me nother I Loue now
Doth grace for graceand Loue for Loue allow:
The other did not so
Fri. O she knew well
Thy Loue did read by rotethat could not spell:
But come young wauerercome goe with me
In one respectIle thy assistant be:
For this alliance may so happy proue
To turne your houshould rancor to pure Loue
Rom. O let vs henceI stand on sudden hast
Fri. Wisely and slowthey stumble that run fast.
Enter Benuolio and Mercutio.
Mer. Where the deule should this Romeo be? came he
not home to night?
Ben. Not to his FathersI spoke with his man
Mer. Why that same pale hard-harted wenchthat Rosaline
torments him sothat he will sure run mad
Ben. Tibaltthe kinsman to old Capulethath sent a Letter
to his Fathers house
Mer. A challenge on my life
Ben. Romeo will answere it
Mer. Any man that can writemay answere a Letter
Ben. Nayhe will answere the Letters Maister how he
Mer. Alas poore Romeohe is already dead stab'd with
a white wenches blacke eyerunne through the eare with
a Loue songthe very pinne of his heartcleft with the
blind Bowe-boyes but-shaftand is he a man to encounter
Ben. Why what is Tibalt?
Mer. More then Prince of Cats. Oh hee's the Couragious
Captaine of Complements: he fights as you sing
pricksongkeeps timedistanceand proportionhe rests
his minumonetwoand the third in your bosom: the very
butcher of a silk buttona Dualista Dualist: a Gentleman
of the very first house of the first and second cause: ah the
immortall Passadothe Punto reuersothe Hay
Ben. The what?
Mer. The Pox of such antique lisping affecting phantacies
these new tuners of accent: Iesu a very good blade
a very tall mana very good whore. Why is not this a lamentable
thing Grandsirethat we should be thus afflicted
with these strange flies: these fashion Mongersthese
who stand so much on the new formthat they
cannot sit at ease on the old bench. O their bonestheir
Ben. Here comes Romeohere comes Romeo
Mer. Without his Roelike a dryed Hering. O flesh
fleshhow art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers
that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his Ladywas a kitchen
wenchmarrie she had a better Loue to berime her: Dido
a dowdieCleopatra a GipsieHellen and Herohildings
and Harlots: Thisbie a gray eie or sobut not to the purpose.
Signior RomeoBon iourthere's a French salutation to your
French slop: you gaue vs the counterfait fairely last
Romeo. Good morrow to you bothwhat counterfeit
did I giue you?
Mer. The slip sirthe slipcan you not conceiue?
Rom. Pardon Mercutiomy businesse was greatand in
such a case as minea man may straine curtesie
Mer. That's as much as to saysuch a case as yours constrains
a man to bow in the hams
Rom. Meaning to cursie
Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it
Rom. A most curteous exposition
Mer. NayI am the very pinck of curtesie
Rom. Pinke for flower
Rom. Why then is my Pump well flowr'd
Mer. Sure witfollow me this ieastnow till thou hast
worne out thy Pumpthat when the single sole of it is
wornethe ieast may remaine after the wearingsole-singular
Rom. O single sol'd ieast
Soly singular for the singlenesse
Mer. Come betweene vs good Benuoliomy wits faints
Rom. Swits and spurs
Swits and spursor Ile crie a match
Mer. Nayif our wits run the Wild-Goose chaseI am
done: For thou hast more of the Wild-Goose in one of
thy witsthen I am sure I haue in my whole fiue. Was I
with you there for the Goose?
Rom. Thou wast neuer with mee for any thingwhen
thou wast not there for the Goose
Mer. I will bite thee by the eare for that iest
Rom. Naygood Goose bite not
Mer. Thy wit is a very Bitter-sweeting
It is a most sharpe sawce
Rom. And is it not well seru'd into a Sweet-Goose?
Mer. Oh here's a wit of Cheuerellthat stretches from
an ynch narrowto an ell broad
Rom. I stretch it out for that wordbroadwhich added
to the Gooseproues thee farre and wideabroad Goose
Mer. Why is not this better nowthen groning for
Louenow art thou sociablenow art thou Romeo: now art
thou what thou artby Art as well as by Naturefor this
driueling Loue is like a great Naturallthat runs lolling
vp and downe to hid his bable in a hole
Ben. Stop therestop there
Mer. Thou desir'st me to stop in my tale against the haire
Ben. Thou would'st else haue made thy tale large
Mer. O thou art deceiu'dI would haue made it short
or I was come to the whole depth of my taleand meant
indeed to occupie the argument no longer.
Enter Nurse and her man.
Rom. Here's a goodly geare.
A saylea sayle
Mer. Twotwo: a Shirt and a Smocke
Nur. My Fan Peter?
Mer. Good Peter to hide her face?
For her Fans the fairer face?
Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen
Mer. God ye gooden faire Gentlewoman
Nur. Is it gooden?
Mer. 'Tis no lesse I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the
Dyall is now vpon the pricke of Noone
Nur. Out vpon you: what a man are you?
Rom. One Gentlewoman
That God hath madehimselfe to mar
Nur. By my troth it is saidfor himselfe tomar quatha:
Gentlemencan any of you tel me where I may find
the young Romeo?
Romeo. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older
when you haue found himthen he was when you sought
him: I am the youngest of that namefor fault of a worse
Nur. You say well
Mer. Yea is the worst well
Very well tooke: Ifaithwiselywisely
Nur. If you be he sir
I desire some confidence with you?
Ben. She will endite him to some Supper
Mer. A bauda bauda baud. So ho
Rom. What hast thou found?
Mer. No Hare sirvnlesse a Hare sir in a Lenten pie
that is something stale and hoare ere it be spent.
An old Hare hoareand an old Hare hoare is very good
meat in Lent.
But a Hare that is hoare is too much for a scorewhen it
hoares ere it be spent
Romeo will you come to your Fathers? Weele to dinner
Rom. I will follow you
Mer. Farewell auncient Lady:
Nur. I pray you sirwhat sawcie Merchant was this
that was so full of his roperie?
Rom. A Gentleman Nursethat loues to heare himselfe
talkeand will speake more in a minutethen he will stand
to in a Moneth
Nur. And a speake any thing against meIle take him
downez a were lustier then he isand twentie such Iacks:
and if I cannotIle finde those that shall: scuruie knaueI
am none of his flurt-gilsI am none of his skaines mates
and thou must stand by too and suffer euery knaue to vse
me at his pleasure
Pet. I saw no man vse you at his pleasure: if I hadmy
weapon should quickly haue beene outI warrant youI
dare draw assoone as another manif I see occasion in a
good quarrelland the law on my side
Nur. Now afore GodI am so vextthat euery part about
me quiuersskuruy knaue: pray you sir a word: and as I
told youmy young Lady bid me enquire you outwhat
she bid me sayI will keepe to my selfe: but first let me
tell yeif ye should leade her in a fooles paradiseas they
sayit were a very grosse kind of behauiouras they say:
for the Gentlewoman is yong: & thereforeif you should
deale double with hertruely it were an ill thing to be offered
to any Gentlewomanand very weake dealing
Nur. Nurse commend me to thy Lady and MistresseI
protest vnto thee
Nur. Good heartand yfaith I will tell her as much:
LordLord she will be a ioyfull woman
Rom. What wilt thou tell her Nurse? thou doest not
Nur. I will tell her sirthat you do protestwhich as I
take itis a Gentleman-like offer
Rom. Bid her deuise some meanes to come to shrift this
And there she shall at Frier Lawrence Cell
Be shriu'd and married: here is for thy paines
Nur. No truly sir not a penny
Rom. Go tooI say you shall
Nur. This afternoone sir? well she shall be there
Ro. And stay thou good Nurse behind the Abbey wall
Within this houre my man shall be with thee
And bring thee Cords made like a tackled staire
Which to the high top gallant of my ioy
Must be my conuoy in the secret night.
Farewellbe trustie and Ile quite thy paines:
Farewellcommend me to thy Mistresse
Nur. Now God in heauen blesse thee: harke you sir
Rom. What saist thou my deare Nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secretdid you nere heare say two
may keepe counsell putting one away
Ro. Warrant thee my man is true as steele
Nur. Well sirmy Mistresse is the sweetest LadyLord
Lordwhen 'twas a little prating thing. O there is a Noble
man in Towne one Paristhat would faine lay knife aboard:
but she good soule had as leeue see a Toadea very
Toade as see him: I anger her sometimesand tell her that
Paris is the properer manbut Ile warrant youwhen I say
soshee lookes as pale as any clout in the versall world.
Doth not Rosemarie and Romeo begin both with a letter?
Rom. I Nursewhat of that? Both with an R
Nur. A mocker that's the dogs name. R. is for the no
I know it begins with some other letterand she hath the
prettiest sententious of itof you and Rosemarythat it
would do you good to heare it
Rom. Commend me to thy Lady
Nur. I a thousand times. Peter?
Nur. Before and apace.
Exit Nurse and Peter.
Iul. The clocke strook ninewhen I did send the Nurse
In halfe an houre she promised to returne
Perchance she cannot meete him: that's not so:
Oh she is lameLoues Herauld should be thoughts
Which ten times faster glides then the Sunnes beames
Driuing backe shadowes ouer lowring hils.
Therefore do nimble Pinion'd Doues draw Loue
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings:
Now is the Sun vpon the highmost hill
Of this daies iourneyand from nine till twelue
Is three long houresyet she is not come.
Had she affections and warme youthfull blood
She would be as swift in motion as a ball
My words would bandy her to my sweete Loue
And his to mebut old folkes
Many faine as they were dead
Vnwieldieslowheauyand pale as lead.
O God she comesO hony Nurse what newes?
Hast thou met with him? send thy man away
Nur. Peter stay at the gate
Iul. Now good sweet Nurse:
O Lordwhy lookest thou sad?
Though newesbe sadyet tell them merrily.
If good thou sham'st the musicke of sweet newes
By playing it to mewith so sower a face
Nur. I am a wearygiue me leaue awhile
Fie how my bones akewhat a iaunt haue I had?
Iul. I would thou had'st my bonesand I thy newes:
Nay come I pray thee speakegood good Nurse speake
Nur. Iesu what hast? can you not stay a while?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
Iul. How art thou out of breathwhen thou hast breth
To say to methat thou art out of breath?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer then the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy newes good or bad? answere to that
Say eitherand Ile stay the circumstance:
Let me be satisfiedist good or bad?
Nur. Wellyou haue made a simple choiceyou know
not how to chuse a man: Romeono not he though his face
be better then any mansyet his legs excels all mensand
for a handand a footeand a bodythough they be not to
be talkt onyet they are past compare: he is not the flower
of curtesiebut Ile warrant him as gentle a Lambe: go thy
waies wenchserue God. What haue you din'd at home?
Iul. No no: but all this did I know before
What saies he of our marriage? what of that?
Nur. Lord how my head akeswhat a head haue I?
It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces.
My backe a tother side: o my backemy backe:
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with iaunting vp and downe
Iul. Ifaith: I am sorrie that thou art so well.
Sweet sweetsweet Nursetell me what saies my Loue?
Nur. Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman
And a courteousand a kindand a handsome
And I warrant a vertuous: where is your Mother?
Iul. Where is my Mother?
Why she is withinwhere should she be?
How odly thou repli'st:
Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman:
Where is your Mother?
Nur. O Gods Lady deare
Are you so hot? marrie come vp I trow
Is this the Poultis for my aking bones?
Henceforward do your messages your selfe
Iul. Heere's such a coilecome what saies Romeo?
Nur. Haue you got leaue to go to shift to day?
Iul. I haue
Nur. Then high you hence to Frier Lawrence Cell
There staies a Husband to make you a wife:
Now comes the wanton bloud vp in your cheekes
Thei'le be in Scarlet straight at any newes:
Hie you to ChurchI must an other way
To fetch a Ladder by the which your Loue
Must climde a birds nest Soone when it is darke:
I am the drudgeand toile in your delight:
But you shall beare the burthen soone at night.
Go Ile to dinnerhie you to the Cell
Iul. Hie to high Fortunehonest Nursefarewell.
Enter Frier and Romeo.
Fri. So smile the heauens vpon this holy act
That after houreswith sorrow chide vs not
Rom. Amenamenbut come what sorrow can
It cannot counteruaile the exchange of ioy
That one short minute giues me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words.
Then Loue-deuouring death do what he dare
It is inough. I may call her mine
Fri. These violent delights haue violent endes
And in their triumph: die like fire and powder;
Which as they kisse consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his owne deliciousnesse
And in the taste confoundes the appetite.
Therefore Loue moderatelylong Loue doth so
Too swift arriues as tardie as too slow.
Here comes the Lady. Oh so light a foot
Will nere weare out the euerlasting flint
A Louer may bestride the Gossamours
That ydles in the wanton Summer ayre
And yet not fallso light is vanitie
Iul. Good euen to my ghostly Confessor
Fri. Romeo shall thanke thee Daughter for vs both
Iul. As much to himelse in his thanks too much
Fri. Ah Iulietif the measure of thy ioy
Be heapt like mineand that thy skill be more
To blason itthen sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour ayreand let rich musickes tongue
Vnfold the imagin'd happinesse that both
Receiue in eitherby this deere encounter
Iul. Conceit more rich in matter then in words
Brags of his substancenot of Ornament:
They are but beggers that can count their worth
But my true Loue is growne to such excesse
I cannot sum vp some of halfe my wealth
Fri. Comecome with me& we will make short worke
For by your leauesyou shall not stay alone
Till holy Church incorporate two in one.
Enter MercutioBenuolioand men.
Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire
The day is hotthe Capulets abroad:
And if we meetwe shal not scape a brawlefor now these
hot dayesis the mad blood stirring
Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowesthat when he
enters the confines of a Tauerneclaps me his Sword vpon
the Tableand sayesGod send me no need of thee: and by
the operation of the second cupdrawes him on the Drawer
when indeed there is no need
Ben. Am I like such a Fellow?
Mer. Comecomethou art as hot a Iacke in thy mood
as any in Italie: and assoone moued to be moodieand assoone
moodie to be mou'd
Ben. And what too?
Mer. Nayand there were two suchwe should haue
none shortlyfor one would kill the other: thouwhy thou
wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire moreor a haire
lesse in his beardthen thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a
man for cracking Nutshauing no other reasonbut because
thou hast hasell eyes: what eyebut such an eye
would spie out such a quarrell? thy head is full of quarrels
as an egge is full of meatand yet thy head hath bin
beaten as addle as an egge for quarreling: thou hast quarrel'd
with a man for coffing in the streetbecause he hath
wakened thy Dog that hath laine asleepe in the Sun. Did'st
thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doublet
before Easter? with anotherfor tying his new shooes
with old Ribandand yet thou wilt Tutor me from quarrelling?
Ben. And I were so apt to quarell as thou artany man
should buy the Fee-simple of my lifefor an houre and a
Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple.
Enter TybaltPetruchioand others.
Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets
Mer. By my heele I care not
Tyb. Follow me closefor I will speake to them.
GentlemenGood dena word with one of you
Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with
somethingmake it a word and a blow
Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sirand you
will giue me occasion
Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without
Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo
Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? &
thou make Minstrels of vslooke to heare nothing but discords:
heere's my fiddlestickeheere's that shall make you
daunce. Come consort
Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men
Either withdraw vnto some priuate place
Or reason coldly of your greeuances:
Or else departhere all eies gaze on vs
Mer. Mens eyes were made to lookeand let them gaze.
I will not budge for no mans pleasure I.
Tib. Well peace be with you sirhere comes my man
Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery.
Marry go before to fieldheele be your follower
Your worship in that sensemay call him man
Tib. Romeothe loue I beare theecan affoord
No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine
Rom. Tibaltthe reason that I haue to loue thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting: Villaine am I none;
Therefore farewellI see thou know'st me not
Tib. Boythis shall not excuse the iniuries
That thou hast done metherefore turne and draw
Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee
But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise:
Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue
And so good Capuletwhich name I tender
As dearely as my ownebe satisfied
Mer. O calmedishonourablevile submission:
Alla stucatho carries it away.
Tybaltyou Rat-catcherwill you walke?
Tib. What wouldst thou haue with me?
Mer. Good King of Catsnothing but one of your nine
liuesthat I meane to make bold withalland as you shall
vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you
pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make
hastleast mine be about your eares ere it be out
Tib. I am for you
Rom. Gentle Mercutioput thy Rapier vp
Mer. Come siryour Passado
Rom. Draw Benuoliobeat downe their weapons:
Gentlemenfor shame forbeare this outrage
TibaltMercutiothe Prince expresly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes.
Hold Tybaltgood Mercutio.
Mer. I am hurt.
A plague a both the HousesI am sped:
Is he gone and hath nothing?
Ben. What art thou hurt?
Mer. IIa scratcha scratchmarry 'tis inough
Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon
Rom. Courage manthe hurt cannot be much
Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a wellnor so wide as a
Church doorebut 'tis inough'twill serue: aske for me to
morrowand you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd
I warrantfor this world: a plague a both your houses.
Whata Doga Rata Mousea Cat to scratch a man to
death: a Braggarta Roguea Villainethat fights by the
booke of Arithmetickewhy the deu'le came you betweene
vs? I was hurt vnder your arme
Rom. I thought all for the best
Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio
Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses.
They haue made wormesmeat of me
I haue itand soundly to your Houses.
Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie
My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt
In my behalfemy reputation stain'd
With Tibalts slaunderTybalt that an houre
Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet
Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate
And in my temper softned Valours steele.
Ben. O RomeoRomeobraue Mercutio's is dead
That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes
Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth
Rom. This daies blacke Fateon mo daies depend
This but beginsthe wo others must end.
Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe
Rom. He gon in triumphand Mercutio slaine?
Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie
And fire and Furybe my conduct now.
Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe
That late thou gau'st mefor Mercutios soule
Is but a little way aboue our heads
Staying for thine to keepe him companie:
Either thou or Ior bothmust goe with him
Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here
Shalt with him hence
Rom. This shall determine that.
They fight. Tybalt falles.
Ben. Romeoaway be gone:
The Citizens are vpand Tybalt slaine
Stand not amaz'dthe Prince will Doome thee death
If thou art taken: hencebe goneaway
Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole
Ben. Why dost thou stay?
Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio?
Tibalt that Murthererwhich way ran he?
Ben. There lies that Tybalt
Citi. Vp sir go with me:
I charge thee in the Princes names obey.
Enter Princeold MontagueCapulettheir Wiues and all.
Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this Fray?
Ben. O Noble PrinceI can discouer all
The vnluckie Mannage of this fatall brall:
There lies the man slaine by young Romeo
That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio
Cap. Wi. Tybaltmy Cozin? O my Brothers Child
O PrinceO CozinHusbandO the blood is spild
Of my deare kinsman. Prince as thou art true
For bloud of oursshed bloud of Mountague.
Prin. Benuoliowho began this Fray?
Ben. Tybalt here slainewhom Romeo's hand did slay
Romeo that spoke him fairebid him bethinke
How nice the Quarrell wasand vrg'd withall
Your high displeasure: all this vttered
With gentle breathcalme lookeknees humbly bow'd
Could not take truce with the vnruly spleene
Of Tybalts deafe to peacebut that he Tilts
With Peircing steele at bold Mercutio's breast
Who all as hotturnes deadly point to point
And with a Martiall scornewith one hand beates
Cold death asideand with the other sends
It back to Tybaltwhose dexterity
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud
Hold FriendsFriends partand swifter then his tongue
His aged armebeats downe their fatall points
And twixt them rushesvnderneath whose arme
An enuious thrust from Tybalthit the life
Of stout Mercutioand then Tybalt fled.
But by and by comes backe to Romeo
Who had but newly entertained Reuenge
And too't they goe like lightningfor ere I
Could draw to part themwas stout Tybalt slaine:
And as he felldid Romeo turne and flie:
This is the truthor let Benuolio die
Cap. Wi. He is a kinsman to the Mountague
Affection makes him falsehe speakes not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this blacke strife
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for Iusticewhich thou Prince must giue:
Romeo slew TybaltRomeo must not liue
Prin. Romeo slew himhe slew Mercutio
Who now the price of his deare blood doth owe
Cap. Not Romeo Princehe was Mercutios Friend
His fault concludesbut what the law should end
The life of Tybalt
Prin. And for that offence
Immediately we doe exile him hence:
I haue an interest in your hearts proceeding:
My bloud for your rude brawles doth lie a bleeding.
But Ile Amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the losse of mine.
It will be deafe to pleading and excuses
Nor tearesnor prayers shall purchase our abuses.
Therefore vse nonelet Romeo hence in hast
Else when he is foundthat houre is his last.
Beare hence his bodyand attend our will:
Mercy not Murderspardoning those that kill.
Enter Iuliet alone.
Iul. Gallop apaceyou fiery footed steedes
Towards Phoebus lodgingsuch a Wagoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west
And bring in Cloudie night immediately.
Spred thy close Curtaine Loue-performing night
That run-awayes eyes may winckeand Romeo
Leape to these armesvntalkt of and vnseene
Louers can see to doe their Amorous rights
And by their owne Beauties: or if Loue be blind
It best agrees with night: come ciuill night
Thou sober suted Matron all in blacke
And learne me how to loose a winning match
Plaid for a paire of stainlesse Maidenhoods
Hood my vnman'd blood bayting in my Cheekes
With thy Blacke mantletill strange Loue grow bold
Thinke true Loue acted simple modestie:
Come nightcome Romeocome thou day in night
For thou wilt lie vpon the wings of night
Whiter then new Snow vpon a Rauens backe:
Come gentle nightcome louing blackebrow'd night.
Giue me my Romeoand when I shall die
Take him and cut him out in little starres
And he will make the Face of heauen so fine
That all the world will be in Loue with night
And pay no worship to the Garish Sun.
O I haue bought the Mansion of a Loue
But not possest itand though I am sold
Not yet enioy'dso tedious is this day
As is the night before some Festiuall
To an impatient child that hath new robes
And may not weare themO here comes my Nurse:
Enter Nurse with cords.
And she brings newes and euery tongue that speaks
But Romeos namespeakes heauenly eloquence:
Now Nursewhat newes? what hast thou there?
The Cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?
Nur. IIthe Cords
Iuli. Ay mewhat newes?
Why dost thou wring thy hands
Nur. A weladayhee's deadhee's dead
We are vndone Ladywe are vndone.
Alacke the dayhee's gonehee's kil'dhe's dead
Iul. Can heauen be so enuious?
Nur. Romeo can
Though heauen cannot. O RomeoRomeo.
Who euer would haue thought it Romeo
Iuli. What diuell art thou
That dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismall hell
Hath Romeo slaine himselfe? say thou but I
And that bare vowell I shall poyson more
Then the death-darting eye of Cockatrice
I am not Iif there be such an I.
Or those eyes shotthat makes thee answere I:
If he be slaine say Ior if notno.
Briefesoundsdetermine of my weale or wo
Nur. I saw the woundI saw it with mine eyes
God saue the markehere on his manly brest
A pitteous Coarsea bloody piteous Coarse:
Palepale as ashesall bedawb'd in blood
All in gore blood I sounded at the sight
Iul. O breake my heart
Poore Banckrout breake at once
To prison eyesnere looke on libertie.
Vile earth to earth resigneend motion here
And thou and Romeo presse on heauie beere
Nur. O TybaltTybaltthe best Friend I had:
O curteous Tybalt honest Gentleman
That euer I should liue to see thee dead
Iul. What storme is this that blowes so contrarie?
Is Romeo slaughtred? and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest Cozenand my dearer Lord:
Then dreadfull Trumpet sound the generall doome
For who is liuingif those two are gone?
Nur. Tybalt is goneand Romeo banished
Romeo that kil'd himhe is banished
Iul. O God!
Did Romeo's hand shed Tybalts blood
It didit didalas the dayit did
Nur. O Serpent heart hid with a flowring face
Iul. Did euer Dragon keepe so faire a Caue?
Beautifull Tyrantfiend Angelicall:
Rauenous Doue-feather'd Rauen
Dispised substance of Diuinest show:
Iust opposite to what thou iustly seem'st
A dimne Saintan Honourable Villaine:
O Nature! what had'st thou to doe in hell
When thou did'st bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortall paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was euer booke containing such vile matter
So fairely bound? O that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous Pallace
Nur. There's no trustno faithno honestie in men
All periur'dall forsworneall naughtall dissemblers
Ah where's my man? giue me some Aqua-vitae?
These griefesthese woesthese sorrowes make me old:
Shame come to Romeo
Iul. Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wishhe was not borne to shame:
Vpon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
For 'tis a throane where Honour may be Crown'd
Sole Monarch of the vniuersall earth:
O what a beast was I to chide him?
Nur. Will you speake well of him
That kil'd your Cozen?
Iul. Shall I speake ill of him that is my husband?
Ah poore my Lordwhat tongue shall smooth thy name
When I thy three houres wife haue mangled it.
But wherefore Villaine did'st thou kill my Cozin?
That Villaine Cozin would haue kil'd my husband:
Backe foolish tearesbacke to your natiue spring
Your tributarie drops belong to woe
Which you mistaking offer vp to ioy:
My husband liues that Tibalt would haue slaine
And Tibalt dead that would haue slaine my husband:
All this is comfortwherefore weepe I then?
Some words there was worser then Tybalts death
That murdered meI would forget it feine
But ohit presses to my memory
Like damned guilty deedes to sinners minds
Tybalt is dead and Romeo banished:
That banishedthat one word banished
Hath slaine ten thousand Tibalts: Tibalts death
Was woe inough if it had ended there:
Or if sower woe delights in fellowship
And needly will be rankt with other griefes
Why followed not when she said Tibalts dead
Thy Father or thy Mothernay or both
Which moderne lamentation might haue mou'd.
But which a rere-ward following Tybalts death
Romeo is banished to speake that word
All slaineall dead: Romeo is banished
There is no endno limitmeasurebound
In that words deathno words can that woe sound.
Where is my Father and my Mother Nurse?
Nur. Weeping and wailing ouer Tybalts Coarse
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither
Iu. Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shal be spent
When theirs are drie for Romeo's banishment.
Take vp those Cordespoore ropes you are beguil'd
Both you and I for Romeo is exild:
He made you for a high-way to my bed
But I a Maiddie Maiden widowed.
Come Cordcome NurseIle to my wedding bed
And death not Romeotake my Maiden head
Nur. Hie to your ChamberIle find Romeo
To comfort youI wot well where he is:
Harke ye your Romeo will be heere at night
Ile to himhe is hid at Lawrence Cell
Iul. O find himgiue this Ring to my true Knight
And bid him cometo take his last farewell.
Enter Frier and Romeo.
Fri. Romeo come forth
Come forth thou fearfull man
Affliction is enamor'd of thy parts
And thou art wedded to calamitie
Rom. Father what newes?
What is the Princes Doome?
What sorrow craues acquaintance at my hand
That I yet know not?
Fri. Too familiar
Is my deare Sonne with such sowre Company
I bring thee tydings of the Princes Doome
Rom. What lesse then Doomesday
Is the Princes Doome?
Fri. A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips
Not bodies deathbut bodies banishment
Rom. Habanishment? be mercifullsay death:
For exile hath more terror in his looke
Much more then death: do not say banishment
Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished:
Be patientfor the world is broad and wide
Rom. There is no world without Verona walles
But PurgatorieTorturehell it selfe:
Hence banishedis banisht from the world
And worlds exile is death. Then banished
Is deathmistearm'dcalling death banished
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden Axe
And smilest vpon the stroke that murders me
Fri. O deadly sinO rude vnthankefulnesse!
Thy falt our Law calles deathbut the kind Prince
Taking thy parthath rusht aside the Law
And turn'd that blacke word deathto banishment.
This is deare mercyand thou seest it not
Rom. 'Tis Torture and not mercyheauen is here
Where Iuliet liuesand euery Cat and Dog
And little Mouseeuery vnworthy thing
Liue here in Heauen and may looke on her
But Romeo may not. More Validitie
More Honourable statemore Courtship liues
In carrion Fliesthen Romeo: they may seaze
On the white wonder of deare Iuliets hand
And steale immortall blessing from her lips
Who euen in pure and vestall modestie
Still blushas thinking their owne kisses sin.
This may Flies doewhen I from this must flie
And saist thou yetthat exile is not death?
But Romeo may nothee is banished.
Had'st thou no poyson mixtno sharpe ground knife
No sudden meane of deaththough nere so meane
But banished to kill me? Banished?
O Frierthe damned vse that word in hell:
Howlings attends ithow hast then the hart
Being a Diuinea Ghostly Confessor
A Sin-Absoluerand my Friend profest:
To mangle me with that wordbanished?
Fri. Then fond Mad manheare me speake
Rom. O thou wilt speake againe of banishment
Fri. Ile giue thee Armour to keepe off that word
Aduersities sweete milkePhilosophie
To comfort theethough thou art banished
Rom. Yet banished? hang vp Philosophie:
Vnlesse Philosophie can make a Iuliet
Displant a Townereuerse a Princes Doome
It helpes notit preuailes nottalke no more
Fri. O then I seethat Mad men haue no eares
Rom. How should they
When wisemen haue no eyes?
Fri. Let me dispaire with thee of thy estate
Rom. Thou can'st not speake of that y dost not feele
Wert thou as young as Iuliet my Loue:
An houre but marriedTybalt murdered
Doting like meand like me banished
Then mightest thou speake
Then mightest thou teare thy hayre
And fall vpon the ground as I doe now
Taking the measure of an vnmade graue.
Enter Nurseand knockes.
Frier. Arise one knockes
Good Romeo hide thy selfe
Rom. Not I
Vnlesse the breath of Hartsicke groanes
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.
Fri. Harke how they knocke:
(Who's there) Romeo arise
Thou wilt be takenstay a whilestand vp:
Run to my study: by and byGods will
What simplenesse is this: I comeI come.
Who knocks so hard?
Whence come you? what's your will?
Nur. Let me come in
And you shall know my errand:
I come from Lady Iuliet
Fri. Welcome then
Nur. O holy FrierO tell me holy Frier
Where's my Ladies Lord? where's Romeo?
Fri. There on the ground
With his owne teares made drunke
Nur. O he is euen in my Mistresse case
Iust in her case. O wofull simpathy:
Pittious predicamenteuen so lies she
Blubbring and weepingweeping and blubbring
Stand vpstand vpstand and you be a man
For Iuliets sakefor her sake rise and stand:
Why should you fall into so deepe an O
Nur. Ah sirah sirdeaths the end of all
Rom. Speak'st thou of Iuliet? how is it with her?
Doth not she thinke me an old Murtherer
Now I haue stain'd the Childhood of our ioy
With blood remouedbut little from her owne?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what sayes
My conceal'd Lady to our conceal'd Loue?
Nur. Oh she sayes nothing sirbut weeps and weeps
And now fals on her bedand then starts vp
And Tybalt callsand then on Romeo cries
And then downe falls againe
Ro. As if that name shot from the dead leuell of a Gun
Did murder heras that names cursed hand
Murdred her kinsman. Oh tell me Friertell me
In what vile part of this Anatomie
Doth my name lodge? Tell methat I may sacke
The hatefull Mansion
Fri. Hold thy desperate hand:
Art thou a man? thy forme cries out thou art:
Thy teares are womanishthy wild acts denote
The vnreasonable Furie of a beast.
Vnseemely womanin a seeming man
And ill beseeming beast in seeming both
Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slaine Tybalt? wilt thou slay thy selfe?
And slay thy Ladythat in thy life lies
By doing damned hate vpon thy selfe?
Why rayl'st thou on thy birth? the heauen and earth?
Since birthand heauen and earthall three do meete
In thee at oncewhich thou at once would'st loose.
Fiefiethou sham'st thy shapethy louethy wit
Which like a Vsurer abound'st in all:
And vsest none in that true vse indeed
Which should bedecke thy shapethy louethy wit:
Thy Noble shapeis but a forme of waxe
Digressing from the Valour of a man
Thy deare Loue sworne but hollow periurie
Killing that Loue which thou hast vow'd to cherish.
Thy witthat Ornamentto shape and Loue
Mishapen in the conduct of them both:
Like powder in a skillesse Souldiers flaske
Is set a fire by thine owne ignorance
And thou dismembred with thine owne defence.
Whatrowse thee manthy Iuliet is aliue
For whose deare sake thou wast but lately dead.
There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee
But thou slew'st Tybaltthere art thou happie.
The law that threatned death became thy Friend.
And turn'd it to exilethere art thou happy.
A packe or blessing light vpon thy backe
Happinesse Courts thee in her best array
But like a mishaped and sullen wench
Thou puttest vp thy Fortune and thy Loue:
Take heedtake heedfor such die miserable.
Goe get thee to thy Loue as was decreed
Ascend her Chamberhence and comfort her:
But looke thou stay not till the watch be set
For then thou canst not passe to Mantua
Where thou shalt liue till we can finde a time
To blaze your marriagereconcile your Friends
Beg pardon of thy Princeand call thee backe
With twenty hundred thousand times more ioy
Then thou went'st forth in lamentation.
Goe before Nursecommend me to thy Lady
And bid her hasten all the house to bed
Which heauy sorrow makes them apt vnto.
Romeo is comming
Nur. O LordI could haue staid here all night
To heare good counsell: oh what learning is!
My Lord Ile tell my Lady you will come
Rom. Do soand bid my Sweete prepare to chide
Nur. Heere sira Ring she bid me giue you sir:
Hie youmake hastfor it growes very late
Rom. How well my comfort is reuiu'd by this
Fri. Go hence
Goodnightand here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set
Or by the breake of day disguis'd from hence
Soiourne in MantuaIle find out your man
And he shall signifie from time to time
Euery good hap to youthat chaunces heere:
Giue me thy hand'tis latefarewellgoodnight
Rom. But that a ioy past ioycalls out on me
It were a griefeso briefe to part with thee:
Enter old Capulethis Wife and Paris.
Cap. Things haue falne out sir so vnluckily
That we haue had no time to moue our Daughter:
Looke youshe Lou'd her kinsman Tybalt dearely
And so did I. Wellwe were borne to die.
'Tis very lateshe'l not come downe to night:
I promise youbut for your company
I would haue bin a bed an houre ago
Par. These times of woaffoord no times to wooe:
Madam goodnightcommend me to your Daughter
Lady. I willand know her mind early to morrow
To nightshe is mewed vp to her heauinesse
Cap. Sir ParisI will make a desperate tender
Of my Childes loue: I thinke she will be rul'd
In all respects by me: nay moreI doubt it not.
Wifego you to her ere you go to bed
Acquaint her hereof my Sonne Paris Loue
And bid hermarke you meon Wendsday next
But softwhat day is this?
Par. Monday my Lord
Cap. Mondayha ha: well Wendsday is too soone
A Thursday let it be: a Thursday tell her
She shall be married to this Noble Earle:
Will you be ready? do you like this hast?
Weele keepe no great adoea Friend or two
For harke youTybalt being slaine so late
It may be thought we held him carelesly
Being our kinsmanif we reuell much:
Therefore weele haue some halfe a dozen Friends
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Paris. My Lord
I would that Thursday were to morrow
Cap. Wellget you gonea Thursdaybe it then:
Go you to Iuliet ere you go to bed
Prepare her wifeagainst this wedding day.
Farewell my Lordlight to my Chamber hoa
Afore meit is so latethat we may call it early by and by
Enter Romeo and Iuliet aloft.
Iul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet neere day:
It was the Nightingaleand not the Larke
That pier'st the fearefull hollow of thine eare
Nightly she sings on yond Pomgranet tree
Beleeue me Loueit was the Nightingale
Rom. It was the Larke the Herauld of the Morne:
No Nightingale: looke Loue what enuious streakes
Do lace the seuering Cloudes in yonder East:
Nights Candles are burnt outand Iocond day
Stands tipto on the mistie Mountaines tops
I must be gone and liueor stay and die
Iul. Yond light is not daylightI know it I:
It is some Meteor that the Sun exhales
To be to thee this night a Torch-bearer
And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
Therefore stay yetthou need'st not be gone
Rom. Let me be tanelet me be put to death
I am contentso thou wilt haue it so.
Ile say yon gray is not the mornings eye
'Tis but the pale reflexe of Cinthias brow.
Nor that is not Larke whose noates do beate
The vaulty heauen so high aboue our heads
I haue more care to staythen will to go:
Come death and welcomeIuliet wills it so.
How ist my soulelets talkeit is not day
Iuli. It isit ishie hence be gone away:
It is the Larke that sings so out of tune
Straining harsh Discordsand vnpleasing Sharpes.
Some say the Larke makes sweete Diuision;
This doth not so: for she diuideth vs.
Some saythe Larke and loathed Toad change eyes
O now I would they had chang'd voyces too:
Since arme from arme that voyce doth vs affray
Hunting thee hencewith Hunts-vp to the day
O now be gonemore light and it light growes
Rom. More light & lightmore darke & darke our woes.
Enter Madam and Nurse.
Nur. Your Lady Mother is comming to your chamber
The day is brokebe warylooke about
Iul. Then window let day inand let life out
Rom. Farewellfarewellone kisse and Ile descend
Iul. Art thou gone so? LoueLorday HusbandFriend
I must heare from thee euery day in the houre
For in a minute there are many dayes
O by this count I shall be much in yeares
Ere I againe behold my Romeo
I will omit no oportunitie
That may conuey my greetings Loueto thee
Iul. O thinkest thou we shall euer meet againe?
Rom. I doubt it notand all these woes shall serue
For sweet discourses in our time to come
Iuliet. O God! I haue an ill Diuining soule
Me thinkes I see thee nowthou art so lowe
As one dead in the bottome of a Tombe
Either my eye-sight failesor thou look'st pale
Rom. And trust me Louein my eye so do you:
Drie sorrow drinkes our blood. Adueadue.
Iul. O FortuneFortuneall men call thee fickle
If thou art ficklewhat dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? be fickle Fortune:
For then I hope thou wilt not keepe him long
But send him backe.
Lad. Ho Daughterare you vp?
Iul. Who ist that calls? Is it my Lady Mother.
Is she not downe so lateor vp so early?
What vnaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
Lad. Why how now Iuliet?
Iul. Madam I am not well
Lad. Euermore weeping for your Cozins death?
What wilt thou wash him from his graue with teares?
And if thou could'stthou could'st not make him liue:
Therefore haue donesome griefe shewes much of Loue
But much of griefeshewes still some want of wit
Iul. Yet let me weepefor such a feeling losse
Lad. So shall you feele the lossebut not the Friend
Which you weepe for
Iul. Feeling so the losse
I cannot chuse but euer weepe the Friend
La. Well Girlethou weep'st not so much for his death
As that the Villaine liues which slaughter'd him
Iul. What VillaineMadam?
Lad. That same Villaine Romeo
Iul. Villaine and hebe many miles assunder:
God pardonI doe with all my heart:
And yet no man like hedoth grieue my heart
Lad. That is because the Traitor liues
Iul. I Madam from the reach of these my hands:
Would none but I might venge my Cozins death
Lad. We will haue vengeance for itfeare thou not.
Then weepe no moreIle send to one in Mantua
Where that same banisht Run-agate doth liue
Shall giue him such an vnaccustom'd dram
That he shall soone keepe Tybalt company:
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied
Iul. Indeed I neuer shall be satisfied
With Romeotill I behold him. Dead
Is my poore heart so for a kinsman vext:
Madamif you could find out but a man
To beare a poysonI would temper it;
That Romeo should vpon receit thereof
Soone sleepe in quiet. O how my heart abhors
To heare him nam'dand cannot come to him
To wreake the Loue I bore my Cozin
Vpon his body that hath slaughter'd him
Mo. Find thou the meanesand Ile find such a man.
But now Ile tell thee ioyfull tidings Gyrle
Iul. And ioy comes wellin such a needy time
What are theybeseech your Ladyship?
Mo. Wellwellthou hast a carefull Father Child?
One who to put thee from thy heauinesse
Hath sorted out a sudden day of ioy
That thou expects notnor I lookt not for
Iul. Madam in happy timewhat day is this?
Mo. Marry my Childearly next Thursday morne
The gallantyoungand Noble Gentleman
The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church
Shall happily make thee a ioyfull Bride
Iul. Now by Saint Peters Churchand Peter too
He shall not make me there a ioyfull Bride.
I wonder at this hastthat I must wed
Ere he that should be Husband comes to woe:
I pray you tell my Lord and Father Madam
I will not marrie yetand when I doeI sweare
It shall be Romeowhom you know I hate
Rather then Paris. These are newes indeed
Mo. Here comes your Fathertell him so your selfe
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter Capulet and Nurse.
Cap. When the Sun setsthe earth doth drizzle deaw
But for the Sunset of my Brothers Sonne
It raines downright.
How now? A Conduit Gyrlewhat still in teares?
Euermore showring in one little body?
Thou counterfaits a Barkea Seaa Wind:
For still thy eyeswhich I may call the Sea
Do ebbe and flow with tearesthe Barke thy body is
Sayling in this salt floudthe windes thy sighes
Who raging with the teares and they with them
Without a sudden calme will ouer set
Thy tempest tossed body. How now wife?
Haue you deliuered to her our decree?
Lady. I sir;
But she will noneshe giues you thankes
I would the foole were married to her graue
Cap. Softtake me with youtake me with you wife
Howwill she none? doth she not giue vs thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest
Vnworthy as she isthat we haue wrought
So worthy a Gentlemanto be her Bridegroome
Iul. Not proud you haue
But thankfull that you haue:
Proud can I neuer be of what I haue
But thankfull euen for hatethat is meant Loue
Cap. How now?
How now? Chopt Logicke? what is this?
Proudand I thanke you: and I thanke you not.
Thanke me no thankingsnor proud me no prouds
But fettle your fine ioints 'gainst Thursday next
To go with Paris to Saint Peters Church:
Or I will drag theeon a Hurdle thither.
Out you greene sicknesse carrionout you baggage
You tallow face
Lady. Fiefiewhat are you mad?
Iul. Good FatherI beseech you on my knees
Heare me with patiencebut to speake a word
Fa. Hang thee young baggagedisobedient wretch
I tell thee whatget thee to Church a Thursday
Or neuer after looke me in the face.
Speake notreply notdo not answere me.
My fingers itchwife: we scarce thought vs blest
That God had lent vs but this onely Child
But now I see this one is one too much
And that we haue a curse in hauing her:
Out on her Hilding
Nur. God in heauen blesse her
You are too blame my Lord to rate her so
Fa. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tongue
Good Prudencesmatter with your gossipgo
Nur. I speak no treason
May not one speake?
Fa. Peace you mumbling foole
Vtter your grauitie ore a Gossips bowles
For here we need it not
La. You are too hot
Fa. Gods breadit makes me mad:
Alone in companiestill my care hath bin
To haue her matchtand hauing now prouided
A Gentleman of Noble Parentage
Of faire DemeanesYouthfulland Nobly Allied
Stuft as they say with Honourable parts
Proportion'd as ones thought would wish a man
And then to haue a wretched puling foole
A whining mammetin her Fortunes tender
To answerIle not wedI cannot Loue:
I am too youngI pray you pardon me.
Butand you will not wedIle pardon you.
Graze where you willyou shall not house with me:
Looke too'tthinke on'tI do not vse to iest.
Thursday is neerelay hand on heartaduise
And you be mineIle giue you to my Friend:
And you be nothangbegstaruedie in the streets
For by my souleIle nere acknowledge thee
Nor what is mine shall neuer do thee good:
Trust too'tbethinke youIle not be forsworne
Iuli. Is there no pittie sitting in the Cloudes
That sees into the bottome of my griefe?
O sweet my Mother cast me not away
Delay this marriagefor a montha weeke
Or if you do notmake the Bridall bed
In that dim Monument where Tybalt lies
Mo. Talke not to mefor Ile not speake a word
Do as thou wiltfor I haue done with thee.
Iul. O God!
O Nursehow shall this be preuented?
My Husband is on earthmy faith in heauen
How shall that faith returne againe to earth
Vnlesse that Husband send it me from heauen
By leauing earth? Comfort mecounsaile me:
Alackealackethat heauen should practise stratagems
Vpon so soft a subiect as my selfe.
What saist thou? hast thou not a word of ioy?
Some comfort Nurse
Nur. Faith here it is
Romeo is banishedand all the world to nothing
That he dares nere come backe to challenge you:
Or if he doit needs must be by stealth.
Then since the case so stands as now it doth
I thinke it best you married with the Countie
O hee's a Louely Gentleman:
Romeos a dish-clout to him: an Eagle Madam
Hath not so greeneso quickeso faire an eye
As Paris hathbeshrow my very heart
I thinke you are happy in this second match
For it excels your first: or if it did not
Your first is deador 'twere as good he were
As liuing here and you no vse of him
Iul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
Nur. And from my soule too
Or else beshrew them both
Iul. Wellthou hast comforted me marue'lous much
Go inand tell my Lady I am gone
Hauing displeas'd my Fatherto Lawrence Cell
To make confessionand to be absolu'd
Nur. Marrie I willand this is wisely done
Iul. Auncient damnationO most wicked fiend!
It is more sin to wish me thus forsworne
Or to dispraise my Lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais'd him with aboue compare
So many thousand times? Go Counsellor
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twaine:
Ile to the Frier to know his remedie
If all else failemy selfe haue power to die.
Enter Frier and Countie Paris.
Fri. On Thursday sir? the time is very short
Par. My Father Capulet will haue it so
And I am nothing slow to slack his hast
Fri. You say you do not know the Ladies mind?
Vneuen is the courseI like it not
Pa. Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death
And therfore haue I little talke of Loue
For Venus smiles not in a house of teares.
Now sirher Father counts it dangerous
That she doth giue her sorrow so much sway:
And in his wisedomehasts our marriage
To stop the inundation of her teares
Which too much minded by her selfe alone
May be put from her by societie.
Now doe you know the reason of this hast?
Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
Looke sirhere comes the Lady towards my Cell.
Par. Happily metmy Lady and my wife
Iul. That may be sirwhen I may be a wife
Par. That may bemust be Loueon Thursday next
Iul. What must be shall be
Fri. That's a certaine text
Par. Come you to make confession to this Father?
Iul. To answere thatI should confesse to you
Par. Do not denie to himthat you Loue me
Iul. I will confesse to you that I Loue him
Par. So will yeI am sure that you Loue me
Iul. If I do soit will be of more price
Being spoke behind your backethen to your face
Par. Poore soulethy face is much abus'd with teares
Iul. The teares haue got small victorie by that:
For it was bad inough before their spight
Pa. Thou wrong'st it more then teares with that report
Iul. That is no slaunder sirwhich is a truth
And what I spakeI spake it to thy face
Par. Thy face is mineand thou hast slaundred it
Iul. It may be sofor it is not mine owne.
Are you at leisureHoly Father now
Or shall I come to you at euening Masse?
Fri. My leisure serues me pensiue daughter now.
My Lord you must intreat the time alone
Par. Godsheild: I should disturbe Deuotion
Iulieton Thursday early will I rowse yee
Till then adueand keepe this holy kisse.
Iul. O shut the dooreand when thou hast done so
Come weepe with mepast hopepast carepast helpe
Fri. O IulietI alreadie know thy griefe
It streames me past the compasse of my wits:
I heare thou must and nothing may prorogue it
On Thursday next be married to this Countie
Iul. Tell me not Frier that thou hearest of this
Vnlesse thou tell me how I may preuent it:
If in thy wisedomethou canst giue no helpe
Do thou but call my resolution wise
And with this knifeIle helpe it presently.
God ioyn'd my heartand Romeosthou our hands
And ere this hand by thee to Romeo seal'd:
Shall be the Labell to another Deede
Or my true heart with trecherous reuolt
Turne to anotherthis shall slay them both:
Therefore out of thy long experien'st time
Giue me some present counsellor behold
Twixt my extreames and methis bloody knife
Shall play the vmpeerearbitrating that
Which the commission of thy yeares and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring:
Be not so long to speakI long to die
If what thou speak'stspeake not of remedy
Fri. Hold DaughterI doe spie a kind of hope
Which craues as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would preuent.
If rather then to marrie Countie Paris
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thy selfe
Then is it likely thou wilt vndertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame
That coap'st with death himselfeto scape fro it:
And if thou dar'stIle giue thee remedie
Iul. Oh bid me leaperather then marrie Paris
From of the Battlements of any Tower
Or walke in theeuish waiesor bid me lurke
Where Serpents are: chaine me with roaring Beares
Or hide me nightly in a Charnell house
Orecouered quite with dead mens ratling bones
With reckie shankes and yellow chappels sculls:
Or bid me go into a new made graue
And hide me with a dead man in his graue
Things that to heare them toldhaue made me tremble
And I will doe it without feare or doubt
To liue an vnstained wife to my sweet Loue
Fri. Hold then: goe homebe merriegiue consent
To marrie Paris: wensday is to morrow
To morrow night looke that thou lie alone
Let not thy Nurse lie with thee in thy Chamber:
Take thou this Violl being then in bed
And this distilling liquor drinke thou off
When presently through all thy veines shall run
A cold and drowsie humour: for no pulse
Shall keepe his natiue progressebut surcease:
No warmthno breath shall testifie thou liuest
The Roses in thy lips and cheekes shall fade
To many ashesthe eyes windowes fall
Like death when he shut vp the day of life:
Each part depriu'd of supple gouernment
Shall stiffe and starkeand cold appeare like death
And in this borrowed likenesse of shrunke death
Thou shalt continue two and forty houres
And then awakeas from a pleasant sleepe.
Now when the Bridegroome in the morning comes
To rowse thee from thy bedthere art thou dead:
Then as the manner of our country is
In thy best Robes vncouer'd on the Beere
Be borne to buriall in thy kindreds graue:
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie
In the meane time against thou shalt awake
Shall Romeo by my Letters know our drift
And hither shall he comeand that very night
Shall Romeo beare thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame
If no inconstant toy nor womanish feare
Abate thy valour in the acting it
Iul. Giue megiue meO tell me not of care
Fri. Hold get you gonebe strong and prosperous:
In this resolueIle send a Frier with speed
To Mantua with my Letters to thy Lord
Iu. Loue giue me strength
And the strength shall helpe afford:
Farewell deare father.
Enter Father CapuletMotherNurseand Seruing mentwo or
Cap. So many guests inuite as here are writ
Sirrahgo hire me twenty cunning Cookes
Ser. You shall haue none ill sirfor Ile trie if they can
licke their fingers
Cap. How canst thou trie them so?
Ser. Marrie sir'tis an ill Cooke that cannot licke his
owne fingers: therefore he that cannot licke his fingers
goes not with me
Cap. Go be gonewe shall be much vnfurnisht for this
time: what is my Daughter gone to Frier Lawrence?
Nur. I forsooth
Cap. Well he may chance to do some good on her
A peeuish selfe-wild harlotry it is.
Nur. See where she comes from shrift
With merrie looke
Cap. How now my headstrong
Where haue you bin gadding?
Iul. Where I haue learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition:
To you and your behestsand am enioyn'd
By holy Lawrenceto fall prostrate here
To beg your pardon: pardon I beseech you
Henceforward I am euer rul'd by you
Cap. Send for the Countiegoe tell him of this
Ile haue this knot knit vp to morrow morning
Iul. I met the youthfull Lord at Lawrence Cell
And gaue him what becomed Loue I might
Not stepping ore the bounds of modestie
Cap. Why I am glad on'tthis is wellstand vp
This is as't should belet me see the County:
I marrie go I sayand fetch him hither.
Now afore Godthis reueren'd holy Frier
All our whole Cittie is much bound to him
Iul. Nurse will you goe with me into my Closet
To helpe me sort such needfull ornaments
As you thinke fit to furnish me to morrow?
Mo. No not till Thursdaythere's time inough
Fa. Go Nursego with her
Weele to Church to morrow.
Exeunt. Iuliet and Nurse.
Mo. We shall be short in our prouision
'Tis now neere night
Fa. TushI will stirre about
And all things shall be wellI warrant thee wife:
Go thou to Iuliethelpe to decke vp her
Ile not to bed to nightlet me alone:
Ile play the huswife for this once. What ho?
They are all forthwell I will walke my selfe
To Countie Paristo prepare him vp
Against to morrowmy heart is wondrous light
Since this same way-ward Gyrle is so reclaim'd.
Exeunt. Father and Mother.
Enter Iuliet and Nurse.
Iul. I those attires are bestbut gentle Nurse
I pray thee leaue me to my selfe to night:
For I haue need of many Orysons
To moue the heauens to smile vpon my state
Which well thou know'stis crosse and full of sin.
Mo. What are you busie ho? need you my help?
Iul. No Madamwe haue cul'd such necessaries
As are behoouefull for our state to morrow:
So please youlet me now be left alone;
And let the Nurse this night sit vp with you
For I am sureyou haue your hands full all
In this so sudden businesse
Get thee to bed and restfor thou hast need.
God knowes when we shall meete againe.
I haue a faint cold feare thrills through my veines
That almost freezes vp the heate of fire:
Ile call them backe againe to comfort me.
Nursewhat should she do here?
My dismall SceaneI needs must act alone:
Come Viallwhat if this mixture do not worke at all?
Shall I be married then to morrow morning?
Nonothis shall forbid it. Lie thou there
What if it be a poyson which the Frier
Subtilly hath ministred to haue me dead
Least in this marriage he should be dishonour'd
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I feare it isand yet me thinkes it should not
For he hath still beene tried a holy man.
Howif when I am laid into the Tombe
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeeme me? There's a fearefull point:
Shall I not then be stifled in the Vault?
To whose foule mouth no healthsome ayre breaths in
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes.
Or if I liueis it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night
Together with the terror of the place
As in a Vaultean ancient receptacle
Where for these many hundred yeeres the bones
Of all my buried Auncestors are packt
Where bloody Tybaltyet but greene in earth
Lies festring in his shrow'dwhere as they say
At some houres in the nightSpirits resort:
Alackealackeis it not like that I
So early wakingwhat with loathsome smels
And shrikes like Mandrakes torne out of the earth
That liuing mortalls hearing themrun mad.
O if I wakeshall I not be distraught
Inuironed with all these hidious feares
And madly play with my forefathers ioynts?
And plucke the mangled Tybalt from his shrow'd?
And in this ragewith some great kinsmans bone
As (with a club) dash out my desperate braines.
O lookeme thinks I see my Cozins Ghost
Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body
Vpon my Rapiers point: stay Tybaltstay;
RomeoRomeoRomeohere's drinke: I drinke to thee.
Enter Lady of the houseand Nurse.
Take these keiesand fetch more spices Nurse
Nur. They call for Dates and Quinces in the Pastrie.
Enter old Capulet.
The second Cocke hath Crow'd
The Curphew Bell hath rung'tis three a clocke:
Looke to the bakte meatesgood Angelica
Spare not for cost
Nur. Go you Cot-queanego
Get you to bedfaith youle be sicke to morrow
For this nights watching
Cap. No not a whit: what? I haue watcht ere now
All night for lesse causeand nere beene sicke
La. I you haue bin a Mouse-hunt in your time
But I will watch you from such watching now.
Exit Lady and Nurse.
Cap. A iealous hooda iealous hood
Now fellowwhat there?
Enter three or foure with spitsand logsand baskets.
Fel. Things for the Cooke sirbut I know not what
Cap. Make hastmake hastsirrahfetch drier Logs.
Call Peterhe will shew thee where they are
Fel. I haue a head sirthat will find out logs
And neuer trouble Peter for the matter
Cap. Masse and well saida merrie horsonha
Thou shalt be loggerhead; good Father'tis day.
The Countie will be here with Musicke straight
For so he said he wouldI heare him neere
Nursewifewhat ho? what Nurse I say?
Go waken Iulietgo and trim her vp
Ile go and chat with Paris: hiemake hast
Make hastthe Bridegroomehe is come already:
Make hast I say
Nur. Mistriswhat Mistris? Iuliet? Fast I warrant her she.
Why Lambewhy Lady? fie you sluggabed
Why Loue I say? Madamsweet heart: why Bride?
What not a word? You take your peniworths now.
Sleepe for a weekefor the next night I warrant
The Countie Paris hath set vp his rest
That you shall rest but littleGod forgiue me:
Marrie and Amen: how sound is she a sleepe?
I must needs wake her: MadamMadamMadam
Ilet the Countie take you in your bed
Heele fright you vp yfaith. Will it not be?
What drestand in your clothesand downe againe?
I must needs wake you: LadyLadyLady?
Alasalashelpehelpemy Ladyes dead
Oh weladaythat euer I was borne
Some Aqua-vitŠ homy Lordmy Lady?
Mo. What noise is heere?
Nur. O lamentable day
Mo. What is the matter?
Nur. Lookelookeoh heauie day
Mo. O meO memy Childmy onely life:
Reuiuelooke vpor I will die with thee:
Fa. For shame bring Iuliet forthher Lord is come
Nur. Shee's dead: deceastshee's dead: alacke the day
M. Alacke the dayshee's deadshee's deadshee's dead
Fa. Ha? Let me see her: out alas shee's cold
Her blood is setled and her ioynts are stiffe:
Life and these lips haue long bene seperated:
Death lies on her like an vntimely frost
Vpon the swetest flower of all the field
Nur. O Lamentable day!
Mo. O wofull time
Fa. Death that hath tane her hence to make me waile
Ties vp my tongueand will not let me speake.
Enter Frier and the Countie.
Fri. Comeis the Bride ready to go to Church?
Fa. Ready to gobut neuer to returne.
O Sonnethe night before thy wedding day
Hath death laine with thy wife: there she lies
Flower as she wasdeflowred by him.
Death is my Sonne in lawdeath is my Heire
My Daughter he hath wedded. I will die
And leaue him all life liuingall is deaths
Pa. Haue I thought long to see this mornings face
And doth it giue me such a sight as this?
Mo. Accur'stvnhappiewretched hatefull day
Most miserable hourethat ere time saw
In lasting labour of his Pilgrimage.
But onepoore oneone poore and louing Child
But one thing to reioyce and solace in
And cruell death hath catcht it from my sight
Nur. O woO wofullwofullwofull day
Most lamentable daymost wofull day
That euereuerI did yet behold.
O dayO dayO dayO hatefull day
Neuer was seene so blacke a day as this:
O wofull dayO wofull day
Most detestable deathby thee beguil'd
By cruellcruell theequite ouerthrowne:
O loueO life; not lifebut loue in death
Vncomfortable timewhy cam'st thou now
To murthermurther our solemnitie?
O ChildO Child; my souleand not my Child
Dead art thoualacke my Child is dead
And with my Childmy ioyes are buried
Fri. Peace ho for shameconfusions: Care liues not
In these confusionsheauen and your selfe
Had part in this faire Maidnow heauen hath all
And all the better is it for the Maid:
Your part in heryou could not keepe from death
But heauen keepes his part in eternall life:
The most you sought was her promotion
For 'twas your heauenshe shouldst be aduan'st
And weepe ye nowseeing she is aduan'st
Aboue the Cloudesas high as Heauen it selfe?
O in this loueyou loue your Child so ill
That you run madseeing that she is well:
Shee's not well marriedthat liues married long
But shee's best marriedthat dies married yong.
Drie vp your tearesand sticke your Rosemarie
On this faire Coarseand as the custome is
And in her best array beare her to Church:
For though some Nature bids all vs lament
Yet Natures teares are Reasons merriment
Fa. All things that we ordained Festiuall
Turne from their office to blacke Funerall:
Our instruments to melancholy Bells
Our wedding cheareto a sad buriall Feast:
Our solemne Hymnesto sullen Dyrges change:
Our Bridall flowers serue for a buried Coarse:
And all things change them to the contrarie
Fri. Sir go you in; and Madamgo with him
And go sir Pariseuery one prepare
To follow this faire Coarse vnto her graue:
The heauens do lowre vpon youfor some ill:
Moue them no moreby crossing their high will.
Mu. Faith we may put vp our Pipes and be gone
Nur. Honest goodfellowes: Ah put vpput vp
For well you knowthis is a pitifull case
Mu. I by my troththe case may be amended.
Pet. Musitionsoh Musitions
Hearts easehearts ease
Oand you will haue me liueplay hearts ease
Mu. Why hearts ease;
Pet. O Musitions
Because my heart it selfe plaiesmy heart is full
Mu. Not a dump we'tis no time to play now
Pet. You will not then?
Pet. I will then giue it you soundly
Mu. What will you giue vs?
Pet. No money on my faithbut the gleeke.
I will giue you the Minstrell
Mu. Then will I giue you the Seruing creature
Peter. Then will I lay the seruing Creatures Dagger
on your pate. I will carie no CrochetsIle Re youIle Fa
youdo you note me?
Mu. And you Re vsand Fa vsyou Note vs
2.M. Pray you put vp your Dagger
And put out your wit.
Then haue at you with my wit
Peter. I will drie-beate you with an yron wit
And put vp my yron Dagger.
Answere me like men:
When griping griefes the heart doth woundthen Musicke
with her siluer sound.
Why siluer sound? why Musicke with her siluer sound?
what say you Simon Catling?
Mu. Mary sirbecause siluer hath a sweet sound
Pet. Pratestwhat say you Hugh Rebicke?
2.M. I say siluer soundbecause Musitions sound for siluer
Pet. Pratest towhat say you Iames Sound-Post?
3.Mu. Faith I know not what to say
Pet. O I cry you mercyyou are the Singer.
I will say for you; it is Musicke with her siluer sound
Because Musitions haue no gold for sounding:
Then Musicke with her siluer soundwith speedy helpe
doth lend redresse.
Mu. What a pestilent knaue is this same?
M.2. Hang him Iackecome weele in heretarrie for
the Mournersand stay dinner.
Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleepe
My dreames presage some ioyfull newes at hand:
My bosomes L[ord]. sits lightly in his throne:
And all this day an vnaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me aboue the ground with cheerefull thoughts.
I dreamt my Lady came and found me dead
(Strange dreame that giues a dead man leaue to thinke)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips
That I reuiu'd and was an Emperour.
Ah mehow sweet is loue it selfe possest
When but loues shadowes are so rich in ioy.
Enter Romeo's man.
Newes from Veronahow now Balthazer?
Dost thou not bring me Letters from the Frier?
How doth my Lady? Is my Father well?
How doth my Lady Iuliet? that I aske againe
For nothing can be illis she be well
Man. Then she is welland nothing can be ill.
Her body sleepes in Capels Monument
And her immortall part with Angels liue
I saw her laid low in her kindreds Vault
And presently tooke Poste to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill newes
Since you did leaue it for my office Sir
Rom. Is it euen so?
Then I denie you Starres.
Thou knowest my lodgingget me inke and paper
And hire Post-HorsesI will hence to night
Man. I do beseech you sirhaue patience:
Your lookes are pale and wildand do import
Rom. Tushthou art deceiu'd
Leaue meand do the thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no Letters to me from the Frier?
Man. No my good Lord.
Rom. No matter: Get thee gone
And hyre those HorsesIle be with thee straight
Well IulietI will lie with thee to night:
Lets see for meanesO mischiefe thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men:
I do remember an Appothecarie
And here abouts dwellswhich late I noted
In tattred weedswith ouerwhelming browes
Culling of Simplesmeager were his lookes
Sharp miserie had worne him to the bones:
And in his needie shop a Tortoyrs hung
An Allegater stuftand other skins
Of ill shap'd fishesand about his shelues
A beggerly account of emptie boxes
Greene earthen potsBladdersand mustie seedes
Remnants of packthredand old cakes of Roses
Were thinly scatteredto make vp a shew.
Noting this penuryto my selfe I said
An if a man did need a poyson now
Whose sale is present death in Mantua
Here liues a Caitiffe wretch would sell it him.
O this same thought did but fore-run my need
And this same needie man must sell it me.
As I rememberthis should be the house
Being holy daythe beggers shop is shut.
What ho? Appothecarie?
App. Who call's so low'd?
Rom. Come hither manI see that thou art poore
Holdthere is fortie Ducketslet me haue
A dram of poysonsuch soone speeding geare
As will disperse it selfe through all the veines
That the life-wearie-taker may fall dead
And that the Trunke may be discharg'd of breath
As violentlyas hastie powder fier'd
Doth hurry from the fatall Canons wombe
App. Such mortall drugs I hauebut Mantuas law
Is death to any hethat vtters them
Rom. Art thou so bare and full of wretchednesse
And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheekes
Need and opression starueth in thy eyes
Contempt and beggery hangs vpon thy backe:
The world is not thy friendnor the worlds law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich.
Then be not poorebut breake itand take this
App. My pouertybut not my will consents
Rom. I pray thy pouertyand not thy will
App. Put this in any liquid thing you will
And drinke it offand if you had the strength
Of twenty menit would dispatch you straight
Rom. There's thy Gold
Worse poyson to mens soules
Doing more murther in this loathsome world
Then these poore compounds that thou maiest not sell.
I sell thee poysonthou hast sold me none
Farewellbuy foodand get thy selfe in flesh.
Come Cordialland not poysongo with me
To Iuliets grauefor there must I vse thee.
Enter Frier Iohn to Frier Lawrence.
Iohn. Holy Franciscan FrierBrotherho?
Enter Frier Lawrence.
Law. This same should be the voice of Frier Iohn.
Welcome from Mantuawhat sayes Romeo?
Or if his mind be writgiue me his Letter
Iohn. Going to find a bare-foote Brother out
One of our order to associate me
Here in this Citie visiting the sick
And finding himthe Searchers of the Towne
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did raigne
Seal'd vp the dooresand would not let vs forth
So that my speed to Mantua there was staid
Law. Who bare my Letter then to Romeo?
Iohn. I could not send ithere it is againe
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee
So fearefull were they of infection
Law. Vnhappie Fortune: by my Brotherhood
The Letter was not nice; but full of charge
Of deare import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Frier Iohn go hence
Get me an Iron Crowand bring it straight
Vnto my Cell
Iohn. Brother Ile go and bring it thee.
Law. Now must I to the Monument alone
Within this three houres will faire Iuliet wake
Shee will beshrew me much that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents:
But I will write againe to Mantua
And keepe her at my Cell till Romeo come
Poore liuing Coarseclos'd in a dead mans Tombe
Enter Paris and his Page.
Par. Giue me thy Torch Boyhence and stand aloft
Yet put it outfor I would not be seene:
Vnder yond young Trees lay thee all along
Holding thy eare close to the hollow ground
So shall no foot vpon the Churchyard tread
Being loosevnfirme with digging vp of Graues
But thou shalt heare it: whistle then to me
As signall that thou hearest some thing approach
Giue me those flowers. Do as I bid theego
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the Churchyardyet I will aduenture
Pa. Sweet Flower with flowers thy Bridall bed I strew:
O woethy Canopie is dust and stones
Which with sweet water nightly I will dewe
Or wanting thatwith teares destil'd by mones;
The obsequies that I for thee will keepe
Nightly shall beto strew thy graueand weepe.
The Boy giues warningsomething doth approach
What cursed foot wanders this wayes to night
To crosse my obsequiesand true loues right?
What with a Torch? Muffle me night a while.
Enter Romeoand Peter.
Rom. Giue me that Mattocke& the wrenching Iron
Hold take this Letterearly in the morning
See thou deliuer it to my Lord and Father
Giue me the light; vpon thy life I charge thee
What ere thou hear'st or seeststand all aloofe
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death
Is partly to behold my Ladies face:
But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
A precious Ringa Ring that I must vse
In deare employmenttherefore hence be gone:
But if thou iealous dost returne to prie
In what I further shall intend to do
By heauen I will teare thee ioynt by ioynt
And strew this hungry Churchyard with thy limbs:
The timeand my intents are sauage wilde:
More fierce and more inexorable farre
Them emptie Tygersor the roaring Sea
Pet. I will be gone sirand not trouble you
Ro. So shalt thou shew me friendship: take thou that
Liue and be prosperousand farewell good fellow
Pet. For all this sameIle hide me here about
His lookes I feareand his intents I doubt
Rom. Thou detestable mawethou wombe of death
Gorg'd with the dearest morsell of the earth:
Thus I enforce thy rotten Iawes to open
And in despightIle cram thee with more food
Par. This is that banisht haughtie Mountague
That murdred my Loues Cozin; with which griefe
It is supposed the faire Creature died
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Stop thy vnhallowed toylevile Mountague:
Can vengeance be pursued further then death?
Condemned villaineI do apprehend thee.
Obey and go with mefor thou must die
Rom. I must indeedand therfore came I hither:
Good gentle youthtempt not a desperate man
Flie hence and leaue methinke vpon those gone
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee Youth
Put not an other sin vpon my head
By vrging me to furie. O be gone
By heauen I loue thee better then my selfe
For I come hither arm'd against my selfe:
Stay notbe goneliueand hereafter say
A mad mans mercy bid thee run away
Par. I do defie thy commisseration
And apprehend thee for a Fellon here
Ro. Wilt thou prouoke me? Then haue at thee Boy
Pet. O Lord they fightI will go call the Watch
Pa. O I am slaineif thou be mercifull
Open the Tombelay me with Iuliet
Rom. In faith I willlet me peruse this face:
Mercutius kinsmanNoble Countie Paris
What said my manwhen my betossed soule
Did not attend him as we rode? I thinke
He told me Paris should haue married Iuliet.
Said he not so? Or did I dreame it so?
Or am I madhearing him talke of Iuliet
To thinke it was so? O giue me thy hand
Onewrit with me in sowre misfortunes booke.
Ile burie thee in a triumphant graue.
A Graue; O noa Lanthorne; slaughtred Youth:
For here lies Iulietand her beautie makes
This Vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death lie thou thereby a dead man inter'd
How oft when men are at the point of death
Haue they beene merrie? Which their Keepers call
A lightning before death? Oh how may I
Call this a lightning? O my Louemy Wife
Death that hath suckt the honey of thy breath
Hath had no power yet vpon thy Beautie:
Thou are not conquer'd: Beauties ensigne yet
Is Crymson in thy lipsand in thy cheekes
And Deaths pale flag is not aduanced there.
Tybaltly'st thou there in thy bloudy sheet?
O what more fauour can I do to thee
Then with that hand that cut thy youth in twaine
To sunder his that was thy enemie?
Forgiue me Cozen. Ah deare Iuliet:
Why art thou yet so faire? I will beleeue
Shall I beleeuethat vnsubstantiall death is amorous?
And that the leane abhorred Monster keepes
Thee here in darke to be his Paramour?
For feare of thatI still will stay with thee
And neuer from this Pallace of dym night
Depart againe: come lie thou in my armes
Heere's to thy healthwhere ere thou tumblest in.
O true Appothecarie!
Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
Depart againe; herehere will I remaine
With Wormes that are thy Chambermaides: O here
Will I set vp my euerlasting rest:
And shake the yoke of inauspicious starres
From this world-wearied flesh: Eyes looke your last:
Armes take your last embrace: And lipsO you
The doores of breathseale with a righteous kisse
A datelesse bargaine to ingrossing death:
Come bitter conductcome vnsauory guide
Thou desperate Pilotnow at once run on
The dashing Rocksthy Sea-sicke wearie Barke:
Heere's to my Loue. O true Appothecary:
Thy drugs are quicke. Thus with a kisse I die.
Enter Frier with a LanthorneCrowand Spade.
Fri. St. Francis be my speedhow oft to night
Haue my old feet stumbled at graues? Who's there?
Man. Here's onea Friend& one that knowes you well
Fri. Blisse be vpon you. Tell me good my Friend
What Torch is yond that vainely lends his light
To grubsand eyelesse Sculles? As I discerne
It burneth in the Capels Monument
Man. It doth so holy sir
And there's my Masterone that you loue
Fri. Who is it?
Fri. How long hath he bin there?
Man. Full halfe an houre
Fri. Go with me to the Vault
Man. I dare not Sir.
My Master knowes not but I am gone hence
And fearefully did menace me with death
If I did stay to looke on his entents
Fri. Staythen Ile go alonefeares comes vpon me.
O much I feare some ill vnluckie thing
Man. As I did sleepe vnder this young tree here
I dreamt my maister and another fought
And that my Maister slew him
Alackealackewhat blood is this which staines
The stony entrance of this Sepulcher?
What meane these Masterlesseand goarie Swords
To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
Romeooh pale: who else? what Paris too?
And steept in blood? Ah what an vnkind houre
Is guiltie of this lamentable chance?
The Lady stirs
Iul. O comfortable Frierwhere's my Lord?
I do remember well where I should be:
And there I amwhere is my Romeo?
Fri. I heare some noyse Ladycome from that nest
Of deathcontagionand vnnaturall sleepe
A greater power then we can contradict
Hath thwarted our ententscomecome away
Thy husband in thy bosome there lies dead:
And Paris too: come Ile dispose of thee
Among a Sisterhood of holy Nunnes:
Stay not to questionfor the watch is comming.
Comego good IulietI dare no longer stay.
Iul. Go get thee hencefor I will not away
What's hereA cup clos'd in my true loues hand?
Poyson I see hath bin his timelesse end
O churledrinke all? and left no friendly drop
To helpe me afterI will kisse thy lips
Happlie some poyson yet doth hang on them
To make me die with a restoratiue.
Thy lips are warme.
Enter Boy and Watch.
Watch. Lead Boywhich way?
Iul. Yea noise?
Then ile be briefe. O happy Dagger.
'Tis in thy sheaththere rust and let me die.
Boy. This is the place
There where the Torch doth burne
Watch. The ground is bloody
Search about the Churchyard.
Go some of youwho ere you find attach.
Pittifull sighthere lies the Countie slaine
And Iuliet bleedingwarme and newly dead
Who here hath laine these two dayes buried.
Go tell the Princerunne to the Capulets
Raise vp the Mountaguessome others search
We see the ground whereon these woes do lye
But the true ground of all these piteous woes
We cannot without circumstance descry.
Enter Romeo's man.
Watch. Here's Romeo's man
We found him in the Churchyard
Con. Hold him in safetytill the Prince come hither.
Enter Frierand another Watchman.
3.Wat. Here is a Frier that tremblessighesand weepes
We tooke this Mattocke and this Spade from him
As he was comming from this Church-yard side
Con. A great suspitionstay the Frier too.
Enter the Prince.
Prin. What misaduenture is so earely vp
That calls our person from our mornings rest?
Enter Capulet and his Wife.
Cap. What should it be that they so shrike abroad?
Wife. O the people in the streete crie Romeo.
Some Iulietand some Parisand all runne
With open outcry toward our Monument
Pri. What feare is this which startles in your eares?
Wat. Soueraignehere lies the Countie Paris slaine
And Romeo deadand Iuliet dead before
Warme and new kil'd
Seekeand know howthis foule murder comes
Wat. Here is a Frierand Slaughter'd Romeos man
With Instruments vpon them fit to open
These dead mens Tombes
Cap. O heauen!
O wife looke how our Daughter bleedes!
This Dagger hath mistainefor loe his house
Is empty on the backe of Mountague
And is misheathed in my Daughters bosome
Wife. O methis sight of deathis as a Bell
That warnes my old age to a Sepulcher.
Pri. Come Mountaguefor thou art early vp
To see thy Sonne and Heirenow early downe
Moun. Alas my liegemy wife is dead to night
Griefe of my Sonnes exile hath stopt her breath:
What further woe conspires against my age?
Prin. Looke: and thou shalt see
Moun. O thou vntaughtwhat manners is in this
To presse before thy Father to a graue?
Prin. Seale vp the mouth of outrage for a while
Till we can cleare these ambiguities
And know their springtheir headtheir true descent
And then I will be generall of your woes
And lead you euen to death? meane time forbeare
And let mischance be slaue to patience
Bring forth the parties of suspition
Fri. I am the greatestable to doe least
Yet most suspected as the time and place
Doth make against me of this direfull murther:
And heere I stand both to impeach and purge
My selfe condemnedand my selfe excus'd
Prin. Then say at oncewhat thou dost know in this?
Fri. I will be briefefor my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo there deadwas husband to that Iuliet
And she there deadthat's Romeos faithfull wife:
I married them; and their stolne marriage day
Was Tybalts Doomesday: whose vntimely death
Banish'd the new-made Bridegroome from this Citie:
For whom (and not for Tybalt) Iuliet pinde.
Youto remoue that siege of Greefe from her
Betroth'dand would haue married her perforce
To Countie Paris. Then comes she to me
And (with wilde lookes) bid me deuise some meanes
To rid her from this second Marriage
Or in my Cell there would she kill her selfe.
Then gaue I her (so Tutor'd by my Art)
A sleeping Potionwhich so tooke effect
As I intendedfor it wrought on her
The forme of death. Meane timeI writ to Romeo
That he should hither comeas this dyre night
To helpe to take her from her borrowed graue
Being the time the Potions force should cease.
But he which bore my LetterFrier Iohn
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my Letter backe. Then all alone
At the prefixed houre of her waking
Came I to take her from her Kindreds vault
Meaning to keepe her closely at my Cell
Till I conueniently could send to Romeo.
But when I came (some Minute ere the time
Of her awaking) heere vntimely lay
The Noble Parisand true Romeo dead.
Shee wakesand I intreated her come foorth
And beare this worke of Heauenwith patience:
But thena noyse did scarre me from the Tombe
And she (too desperate) would not go with me
But (as it seemes) did violence on her selfe.
All this I knowand to the Marriage her Nurse is priuy:
And if ought in this miscarried by my fault
Let my old life be sacrific'dsome houre before the time
Vnto the rigour of seuerest Law
Prin. We still haue knowne thee for a Holy man.
Where's Romeo's man? What can he say to this?
Boy. I brought my Master newes of Iuliets death
And then in poste he came from Mantua
To this same placeto this same Monument.
This Letter he early bid me giue his Father
And threatned me with deathgoing in the Vault
If I departed notand left him there
Prin. Giue me the LetterI will look on it.
Where is the Counties Page that rais'd the Watch?
Sirrawhat made your Master in this place?
Page. He came with flowres to strew his Ladies graue
And bid me stand aloofeand so I did:
Anon comes one with light to ope the Tombe
And by and by my Maister drew on him
And then I ran away to call the Watch
Prin. This Letter doth make good the Friers words
Their course of Louethe tydings of her death:
And heere he writesthat he did buy a poyson
Of a poore Pothecarieand therewithall
Came to this Vault to dyeand lye with Iuliet.
Where be these Enemies? CapuletMountague
See what a scourge is laide vpon your hate
That Heauen finds meanes to kill your ioyes with Loue;
And Ifor winking at your discords too
Haue lost a brace of Kinsmen: All are punish'd
Cap. O Brother Mountaguegiue me thy hand
This is my Daughters ioynturefor no more
Can I demand
Moun. But I can giue thee more:
For I will raise her Statue in pure Gold
That whiles Verona by that name is knowne
There shall no figure at that Rate be set
As that of True and Faithfull Iuliet
Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his Lady ly
Poore sacrifices of our enmity
Prin. A glooming peace this morning with it brings
The Sunne for sorrow will not shew his head;
Go henceto haue more talke of these sad things
Some shall be pardon'dand some punished.
For neuer was a Storie of more Wo
Then this of Iulietand her Romeo.
FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF ROMEO and IVLIET