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1. Prologue
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0
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Chorus.
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1
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Two households, both alike in dignity,
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2
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In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
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3
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From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
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4
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Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
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5
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From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
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6
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A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
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7
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Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
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8
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Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
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9
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The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
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10
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And the continuance of their parents' rage,
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11
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Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
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12
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Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
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13
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The which if you with patient ears attend,
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14
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What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
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2. Act I, Scene 1
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0
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Verona. A public place.
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1
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[Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers]
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2
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Sampson.
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3
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Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.
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4
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Gregory.
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5
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No, for then we should be colliers.
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6
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Sampson.
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7
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I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
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8
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Gregory.
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9
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Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.
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10
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Sampson.
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11
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I strike quickly, being moved.
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12
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Gregory.
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13
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But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
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14
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Sampson.
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15
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A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
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16
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Gregory.
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17
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To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
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18
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therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
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19
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Sampson.
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20
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A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will
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21
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take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
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22
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Gregory.
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23
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That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes
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24
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to the wall.
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25
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Sampson.
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26
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True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,
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27
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are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push
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28
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Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids
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29
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to the wall.
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30
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Gregory.
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31
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The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
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32
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Sampson.
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33
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'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I
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34
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have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the
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35
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maids, and cut off their heads.
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36
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Gregory.
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37
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The heads of the maids?
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38
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Sampson.
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39
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Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;
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40
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take it in what sense thou wilt.
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41
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Gregory.
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42
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They must take it in sense that feel it.
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43
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Sampson.
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44
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Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
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45
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'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
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46
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Gregory.
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47
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'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
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48
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hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes
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49
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two of the house of the Montagues.
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50
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Sampson.
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51
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My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
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52
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Gregory.
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53
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How! turn thy back and run?
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54
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Sampson.
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55
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Fear me not.
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56
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Gregory.
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57
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No, marry; I fear thee!
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58
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Sampson.
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59
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Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
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60
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Gregory.
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61
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I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as
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62
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they list.
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63
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Sampson.
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64
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Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
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65
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which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
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66
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[Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR]
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67
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Abraham.
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68
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Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
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69
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Sampson.
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70
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I do bite my thumb, sir.
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71
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Abraham.
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72
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Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
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73
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Sampson.
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74
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[Aside to GREGORY]Is the law of our side, if I say
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75
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ay?
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76
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Gregory.
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77
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No.
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78
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Sampson.
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79
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No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I
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80
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bite my thumb, sir.
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81
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Gregory.
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82
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Do you quarrel, sir?
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83
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Abraham.
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84
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Quarrel sir! no, sir.
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85
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Sampson.
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86
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If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
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87
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Abraham.
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88
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No better.
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89
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Sampson.
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90
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Well, sir.
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91
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Gregory.
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92
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Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
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93
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Sampson.
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94
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Yes, better, sir.
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95
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Abraham.
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96
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You lie.
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97
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Sampson.
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98
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Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
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99
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[They fight]
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100
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[Enter BENVOLIO]
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101
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Benvolio.
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102
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Part, fools!
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103
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Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
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104
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[Beats down their swords]
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105
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[Enter TYBALT]
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106
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Tybalt.
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107
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What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
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108
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Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
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109
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Benvolio.
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110
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I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
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111
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Or manage it to part these men with me.
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112
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Tybalt.
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113
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What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,
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114
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As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
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115
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Have at thee, coward!
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116
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[They fight]
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117
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[Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray;
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118
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then enter Citizens, with clubs]
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119
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First Citizen.
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120
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Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
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121
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Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
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122
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[Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET]
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123
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Capulet.
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124
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What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
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125
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Lady Capulet.
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126
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A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
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127
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Capulet.
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128
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My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
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129
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And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
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130
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[Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
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131
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Montague.
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132
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Thou villain Capulet,—Hold me not, let me go.
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133
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Lady Montague.
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134
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Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
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135
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[Enter PRINCE, with Attendants]
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136
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Prince Escalus.
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137
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Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
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138
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Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—
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139
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Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
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140
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That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
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141
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With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
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142
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On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
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143
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Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
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144
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And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
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145
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Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
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146
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By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
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147
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Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
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148
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And made Verona's ancient citizens
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149
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Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
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150
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To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
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151
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Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
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152
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If ever you disturb our streets again,
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153
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Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
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154
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For this time, all the rest depart away:
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155
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You Capulet; shall go along with me:
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156
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And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
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157
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To know our further pleasure in this case,
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158
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To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
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159
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Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
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[Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO]
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161
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Montague.
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162
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Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
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163
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Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
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164
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Benvolio.
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165
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Here were the servants of your adversary,
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166
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And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
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167
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I drew to part them: in the instant came
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168
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The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,
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169
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Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
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170
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He swung about his head and cut the winds,
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171
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Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:
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172
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While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
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173
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Came more and more and fought on part and part,
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174
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Till the prince came, who parted either part.
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175
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Lady Montague.
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176
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O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
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177
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Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
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178
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Benvolio.
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179
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Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
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180
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Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
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181
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A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
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182
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Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
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183
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That westward rooteth from the city's side,
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184
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So early walking did I see your son:
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185
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Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
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186
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And stole into the covert of the wood:
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187
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I, measuring his affections by my own,
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188
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That most are busied when they're most alone,
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189
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Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
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190
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And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
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191
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Montague.
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192
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Many a morning hath he there been seen,
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193
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With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.
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194
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Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
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195
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But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
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196
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Should in the furthest east begin to draw
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197
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The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
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198
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Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
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199
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And private in his chamber pens himself,
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200
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Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out
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201
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And makes himself an artificial night:
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202
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Black and portentous must this humour prove,
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203
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Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
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204
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Benvolio.
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205
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My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
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206
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Montague.
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207
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I neither know it nor can learn of him.
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208
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Benvolio.
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209
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Have you importuned him by any means?
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210
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Montague.
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211
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Both by myself and many other friends:
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212
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But he, his own affections' counsellor,
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213
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Is to himself—I will not say how true—
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214
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But to himself so secret and so close,
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215
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So far from sounding and discovery,
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216
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As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
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217
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Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
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218
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Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
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219
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Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.
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220
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We would as willingly give cure as know.
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221
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[Enter ROMEO]
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222
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Benvolio.
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223
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See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
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224
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I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
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225
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Montague.
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226
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I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
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227
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To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.
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228
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[Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
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229
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Benvolio.
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230
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Good-morrow, cousin.
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231
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Romeo.
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232
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Is the day so young?
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233
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Benvolio.
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234
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But new struck nine.
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235
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Romeo.
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236
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Ay me! sad hours seem long.
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237
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Was that my father that went hence so fast?
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238
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Benvolio.
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239
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It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
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240
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Romeo.
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241
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Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
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242
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Benvolio.
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243
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In love?
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244
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Romeo.
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245
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Out—
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246
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Benvolio.
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247
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Of love?
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248
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Romeo.
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249
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Out of her favour, where I am in love.
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250
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Benvolio.
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251
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Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
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252
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Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
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253
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Romeo.
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254
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Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
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255
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Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
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256
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Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
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257
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Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
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258
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Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
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259
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Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
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260
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O any thing, of nothing first create!
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261
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O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
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262
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Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
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263
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Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
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264
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sick health!
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265
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Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
|
|
266
|
|
|
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
|
|
267
|
|
|
Dost thou not laugh?
|
|
268
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
269
|
|
|
No, coz, I rather weep.
|
|
270
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
271
|
|
|
Good heart, at what?
|
|
272
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
273
|
|
|
At thy good heart's oppression.
|
|
274
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
275
|
|
|
Why, such is love's transgression.
|
|
276
|
|
|
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
|
|
277
|
|
|
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
|
|
278
|
|
|
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
|
|
279
|
|
|
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
|
|
280
|
|
|
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
|
|
281
|
|
|
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
|
|
282
|
|
|
Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
|
|
283
|
|
|
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
|
|
284
|
|
|
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
|
|
285
|
|
|
Farewell, my coz.
|
|
286
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
287
|
|
|
Soft! I will go along;
|
|
288
|
|
|
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
|
|
289
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
290
|
|
|
Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
|
|
291
|
|
|
This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
|
|
292
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
293
|
|
|
Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
|
|
294
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
295
|
|
|
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
|
|
296
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
297
|
|
|
Groan! why, no.
|
|
298
|
|
|
But sadly tell me who.
|
|
299
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
300
|
|
|
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:
|
|
301
|
|
|
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
|
|
302
|
|
|
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
|
|
303
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
304
|
|
|
I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.
|
|
305
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
306
|
|
|
A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.
|
|
307
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
308
|
|
|
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
|
|
309
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
310
|
|
|
Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit
|
|
311
|
|
|
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
|
|
312
|
|
|
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
|
|
313
|
|
|
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
|
|
314
|
|
|
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
|
|
315
|
|
|
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
|
|
316
|
|
|
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
|
|
317
|
|
|
O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
|
|
318
|
|
|
That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
|
|
319
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
320
|
|
|
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
|
|
321
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
322
|
|
|
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
|
|
323
|
|
|
For beauty starved with her severity
|
|
324
|
|
|
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
|
|
325
|
|
|
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
|
|
326
|
|
|
To merit bliss by making me despair:
|
|
327
|
|
|
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
|
|
328
|
|
|
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
|
|
329
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
330
|
|
|
Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
|
|
331
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
332
|
|
|
O, teach me how I should forget to think.
|
|
333
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
334
|
|
|
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
|
|
335
|
|
|
Examine other beauties.
|
|
336
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
337
|
|
|
'Tis the way
|
|
338
|
|
|
To call hers exquisite, in question more:
|
|
339
|
|
|
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows
|
|
340
|
|
|
Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
|
|
341
|
|
|
He that is strucken blind cannot forget
|
|
342
|
|
|
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
|
|
343
|
|
|
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
|
|
344
|
|
|
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
|
|
345
|
|
|
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
|
|
346
|
|
|
Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
|
|
347
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
348
|
|
|
I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
|
| |
|
349
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
| |
| |
|
3. Act I, Scene 2
|
|
0
|
|
|
A street.
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
[Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant]
|
| |
|
2
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
3
|
|
|
But Montague is bound as well as I,
|
|
4
|
|
|
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
|
|
5
|
|
|
For men so old as we to keep the peace.
|
|
6
|
|
|
Paris.
|
|
7
|
|
|
Of honourable reckoning are you both;
|
|
8
|
|
|
And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.
|
|
9
|
|
|
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
|
|
10
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
11
|
|
|
But saying o'er what I have said before:
|
|
12
|
|
|
My child is yet a stranger in the world;
|
|
13
|
|
|
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,
|
|
14
|
|
|
Let two more summers wither in their pride,
|
|
15
|
|
|
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
|
|
16
|
|
|
Paris.
|
|
17
|
|
|
Younger than she are happy mothers made.
|
|
18
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
19
|
|
|
And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
|
|
20
|
|
|
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
|
|
21
|
|
|
She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
|
|
22
|
|
|
But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
|
|
23
|
|
|
My will to her consent is but a part;
|
|
24
|
|
|
An she agree, within her scope of choice
|
|
25
|
|
|
Lies my consent and fair according voice.
|
|
26
|
|
|
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
|
|
27
|
|
|
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
|
|
28
|
|
|
Such as I love; and you, among the store,
|
|
29
|
|
|
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
|
|
30
|
|
|
At my poor house look to behold this night
|
|
31
|
|
|
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
|
|
32
|
|
|
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
|
|
33
|
|
|
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
|
|
34
|
|
|
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
|
|
35
|
|
|
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
|
|
36
|
|
|
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
|
|
37
|
|
|
And like her most whose merit most shall be:
|
|
38
|
|
|
Which on more view, of many mine being one
|
|
39
|
|
|
May stand in number, though in reckoning none,
|
|
40
|
|
|
Come, go with me.
|
|
41
|
|
|
[To Servant, giving a paper]
|
|
42
|
|
|
Go, sirrah, trudge about
|
|
43
|
|
|
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
|
|
44
|
|
|
Whose names are written there, and to them say,
|
|
45
|
|
|
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
|
| |
|
46
|
|
|
[Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS]
|
| |
|
47
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
48
|
|
|
Find them out whose names are written here! It is
|
|
49
|
|
|
written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his
|
|
50
|
|
|
yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with
|
|
51
|
|
|
his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am
|
|
52
|
|
|
sent to find those persons whose names are here
|
|
53
|
|
|
writ, and can never find what names the writing
|
|
54
|
|
|
person hath here writ. I must to the learned.—In good time.
|
| |
|
55
|
|
|
[Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO]
|
| |
|
56
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
57
|
|
|
Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
|
|
58
|
|
|
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
|
|
59
|
|
|
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
|
|
60
|
|
|
One desperate grief cures with another's languish:
|
|
61
|
|
|
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
|
|
62
|
|
|
And the rank poison of the old will die.
|
|
63
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
64
|
|
|
Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
|
|
65
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
66
|
|
|
For what, I pray thee?
|
|
67
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
68
|
|
|
For your broken shin.
|
|
69
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
70
|
|
|
Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
|
|
71
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
72
|
|
|
Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;
|
|
73
|
|
|
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
|
|
74
|
|
|
Whipp'd and tormented and—God-den, good fellow.
|
|
75
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
76
|
|
|
God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
|
|
77
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
78
|
|
|
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
|
|
79
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
80
|
|
|
Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I
|
|
81
|
|
|
pray, can you read any thing you see?
|
|
82
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
83
|
|
|
Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
|
|
84
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
85
|
|
|
Ye say honestly: rest you merry!
|
|
86
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
87
|
|
|
Stay, fellow; I can read.
|
|
88
|
|
|
[Reads]
|
|
89
|
|
|
'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
|
|
90
|
|
|
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady
|
|
91
|
|
|
widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely
|
|
92
|
|
|
nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine
|
|
93
|
|
|
uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece
|
|
94
|
|
|
Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin
|
|
95
|
|
|
Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair
|
|
96
|
|
|
assembly: whither should they come?
|
|
97
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
98
|
|
|
Up.
|
|
99
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
100
|
|
|
Whither?
|
|
101
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
102
|
|
|
To supper; to our house.
|
|
103
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
104
|
|
|
Whose house?
|
|
105
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
106
|
|
|
My master's.
|
|
107
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
108
|
|
|
Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
|
|
109
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
110
|
|
|
Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the
|
|
111
|
|
|
great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house
|
|
112
|
|
|
of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.
|
|
113
|
|
|
Rest you merry!
|
| |
|
114
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
| |
|
115
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
116
|
|
|
At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
|
|
117
|
|
|
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
|
|
118
|
|
|
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
|
|
119
|
|
|
Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
|
|
120
|
|
|
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
|
|
121
|
|
|
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
|
|
122
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
123
|
|
|
When the devout religion of mine eye
|
|
124
|
|
|
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;
|
|
125
|
|
|
And these, who often drown'd could never die,
|
|
126
|
|
|
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
|
|
127
|
|
|
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
|
|
128
|
|
|
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
|
|
129
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
130
|
|
|
Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
|
|
131
|
|
|
Herself poised with herself in either eye:
|
|
132
|
|
|
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
|
|
133
|
|
|
Your lady's love against some other maid
|
|
134
|
|
|
That I will show you shining at this feast,
|
|
135
|
|
|
And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
|
|
136
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
137
|
|
|
I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
|
|
138
|
|
|
But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
|
| |
|
139
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
| |
| |
|
4. Act I, Scene 3
|
|
0
|
|
|
A room in Capulet’s house.
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
[Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
|
| |
|
2
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
3
|
|
|
Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
|
|
4
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
5
|
|
|
Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
|
|
6
|
|
|
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
|
|
7
|
|
|
God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
|
| |
|
8
|
|
|
[Enter JULIET]
|
| |
|
9
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
10
|
|
|
How now! who calls?
|
|
11
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
12
|
|
|
Your mother.
|
|
13
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
14
|
|
|
Madam, I am here.
|
|
15
|
|
|
What is your will?
|
|
16
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
17
|
|
|
This is the matter:—Nurse, give leave awhile,
|
|
18
|
|
|
We must talk in secret:—nurse, come back again;
|
|
19
|
|
|
I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
|
|
20
|
|
|
Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.
|
|
21
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
22
|
|
|
Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
|
|
23
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
24
|
|
|
She's not fourteen.
|
|
25
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
26
|
|
|
I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,—
|
|
27
|
|
|
And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four—
|
|
28
|
|
|
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
|
|
29
|
|
|
To Lammas-tide?
|
|
30
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
31
|
|
|
A fortnight and odd days.
|
|
32
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
33
|
|
|
Even or odd, of all days in the year,
|
|
34
|
|
|
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
|
|
35
|
|
|
Susan and she—God rest all Christian souls!—
|
|
36
|
|
|
Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;
|
|
37
|
|
|
She was too good for me: but, as I said,
|
|
38
|
|
|
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
|
|
39
|
|
|
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
|
|
40
|
|
|
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
|
|
41
|
|
|
And she was wean'd,—I never shall forget it,—
|
|
42
|
|
|
Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
|
|
43
|
|
|
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
|
|
44
|
|
|
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
|
|
45
|
|
|
My lord and you were then at Mantua:—
|
|
46
|
|
|
Nay, I do bear a brain:—but, as I said,
|
|
47
|
|
|
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
|
|
48
|
|
|
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
|
|
49
|
|
|
To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
|
|
50
|
|
|
Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,
|
|
51
|
|
|
To bid me trudge:
|
|
52
|
|
|
And since that time it is eleven years;
|
|
53
|
|
|
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
|
|
54
|
|
|
She could have run and waddled all about;
|
|
55
|
|
|
For even the day before, she broke her brow:
|
|
56
|
|
|
And then my husband—God be with his soul!
|
|
57
|
|
|
A' was a merry man—took up the child:
|
|
58
|
|
|
'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
|
|
59
|
|
|
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
|
|
60
|
|
|
Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,
|
|
61
|
|
|
The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'
|
|
62
|
|
|
To see, now, how a jest shall come about!
|
|
63
|
|
|
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
|
|
64
|
|
|
I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;
|
|
65
|
|
|
And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'
|
|
66
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
67
|
|
|
Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.
|
|
68
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
69
|
|
|
Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,
|
|
70
|
|
|
To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
|
|
71
|
|
|
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
|
|
72
|
|
|
A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
|
|
73
|
|
|
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
|
|
74
|
|
|
'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?
|
|
75
|
|
|
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
|
|
76
|
|
|
Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'
|
|
77
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
78
|
|
|
And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
|
|
79
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
80
|
|
|
Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
|
|
81
|
|
|
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:
|
|
82
|
|
|
An I might live to see thee married once,
|
|
83
|
|
|
I have my wish.
|
|
84
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
85
|
|
|
Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
|
|
86
|
|
|
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
|
|
87
|
|
|
How stands your disposition to be married?
|
|
88
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
89
|
|
|
It is an honour that I dream not of.
|
|
90
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
91
|
|
|
An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
|
|
92
|
|
|
I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
|
|
93
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
94
|
|
|
Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,
|
|
95
|
|
|
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
|
|
96
|
|
|
Are made already mothers: by my count,
|
|
97
|
|
|
I was your mother much upon these years
|
|
98
|
|
|
That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
|
|
99
|
|
|
The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
|
|
100
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
101
|
|
|
A man, young lady! lady, such a man
|
|
102
|
|
|
As all the world—why, he's a man of wax.
|
|
103
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
104
|
|
|
Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
|
|
105
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
106
|
|
|
Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
|
|
107
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
108
|
|
|
What say you? can you love the gentleman?
|
|
109
|
|
|
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
|
|
110
|
|
|
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
|
|
111
|
|
|
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
|
|
112
|
|
|
Examine every married lineament,
|
|
113
|
|
|
And see how one another lends content
|
|
114
|
|
|
And what obscured in this fair volume lies
|
|
115
|
|
|
Find written in the margent of his eyes.
|
|
116
|
|
|
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
|
|
117
|
|
|
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
|
|
118
|
|
|
The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
|
|
119
|
|
|
For fair without the fair within to hide:
|
|
120
|
|
|
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
|
|
121
|
|
|
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
|
|
122
|
|
|
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
|
|
123
|
|
|
By having him, making yourself no less.
|
|
124
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
125
|
|
|
No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.
|
|
126
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
127
|
|
|
Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
|
|
128
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
129
|
|
|
I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
|
|
130
|
|
|
But no more deep will I endart mine eye
|
|
131
|
|
|
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
|
| |
|
132
|
|
|
[Enter a Servant]
|
| |
|
133
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
134
|
|
|
Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you
|
|
135
|
|
|
called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in
|
|
136
|
|
|
the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must
|
|
137
|
|
|
hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
|
|
138
|
|
|
Lady Capulet.
|
|
139
|
|
|
We follow thee.
|
|
140
|
|
|
[Exit Servant]
|
|
141
|
|
|
Juliet, the county stays.
|
|
142
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
143
|
|
|
Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
|
| |
|
144
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
| |
| |
|
5. Act I, Scene 4
|
|
0
|
|
|
A street.
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
[Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six [p]Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]
|
| |
|
2
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
3
|
|
|
What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
|
|
4
|
|
|
Or shall we on without a apology?
|
|
5
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
6
|
|
|
The date is out of such prolixity:
|
|
7
|
|
|
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
|
|
8
|
|
|
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
|
|
9
|
|
|
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
|
|
10
|
|
|
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
|
|
11
|
|
|
After the prompter, for our entrance:
|
|
12
|
|
|
But let them measure us by what they will;
|
|
13
|
|
|
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
|
|
14
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
15
|
|
|
Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
|
|
16
|
|
|
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
|
|
17
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
18
|
|
|
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
|
|
19
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
20
|
|
|
Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
|
|
21
|
|
|
With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
|
|
22
|
|
|
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
|
|
23
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
24
|
|
|
You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
|
|
25
|
|
|
And soar with them above a common bound.
|
|
26
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
27
|
|
|
I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
|
|
28
|
|
|
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
|
|
29
|
|
|
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
|
|
30
|
|
|
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
|
|
31
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
32
|
|
|
And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
|
|
33
|
|
|
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
|
|
34
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
35
|
|
|
Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
|
|
36
|
|
|
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
|
|
37
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
38
|
|
|
If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
|
|
39
|
|
|
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
|
|
40
|
|
|
Give me a case to put my visage in:
|
|
41
|
|
|
A visor for a visor! what care I
|
|
42
|
|
|
What curious eye doth quote deformities?
|
|
43
|
|
|
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
|
|
44
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
45
|
|
|
Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
|
|
46
|
|
|
But every man betake him to his legs.
|
|
47
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
48
|
|
|
A torch for me: let wantons light of heart
|
|
49
|
|
|
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
|
|
50
|
|
|
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;
|
|
51
|
|
|
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.
|
|
52
|
|
|
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
|
|
53
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
54
|
|
|
Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
|
|
55
|
|
|
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
|
|
56
|
|
|
Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
|
|
57
|
|
|
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
|
|
58
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
59
|
|
|
Nay, that's not so.
|
|
60
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
61
|
|
|
I mean, sir, in delay
|
|
62
|
|
|
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
|
|
63
|
|
|
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
|
|
64
|
|
|
Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
|
|
65
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
66
|
|
|
And we mean well in going to this mask;
|
|
67
|
|
|
But 'tis no wit to go.
|
|
68
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
69
|
|
|
Why, may one ask?
|
|
70
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
71
|
|
|
I dream'd a dream to-night.
|
|
72
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
73
|
|
|
And so did I.
|
|
74
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
75
|
|
|
Well, what was yours?
|
|
76
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
77
|
|
|
That dreamers often lie.
|
|
78
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
79
|
|
|
In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
|
|
80
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
81
|
|
|
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
|
|
82
|
|
|
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
|
|
83
|
|
|
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
|
|
84
|
|
|
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
|
|
85
|
|
|
Drawn with a team of little atomies
|
|
86
|
|
|
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
|
|
87
|
|
|
Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
|
|
88
|
|
|
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
|
|
89
|
|
|
The traces of the smallest spider's web,
|
|
90
|
|
|
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
|
|
91
|
|
|
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
|
|
92
|
|
|
Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
|
|
93
|
|
|
Not so big as a round little worm
|
|
94
|
|
|
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
|
|
95
|
|
|
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
|
|
96
|
|
|
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
|
|
97
|
|
|
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
|
|
98
|
|
|
And in this state she gallops night by night
|
|
99
|
|
|
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
|
|
100
|
|
|
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
|
|
101
|
|
|
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
|
|
102
|
|
|
O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
|
|
103
|
|
|
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
|
|
104
|
|
|
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
|
|
105
|
|
|
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
|
|
106
|
|
|
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
|
|
107
|
|
|
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
|
|
108
|
|
|
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
|
|
109
|
|
|
Then dreams, he of another benefice:
|
|
110
|
|
|
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
|
|
111
|
|
|
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
|
|
112
|
|
|
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
|
|
113
|
|
|
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
|
|
114
|
|
|
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
|
|
115
|
|
|
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
|
|
116
|
|
|
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
|
|
117
|
|
|
That plats the manes of horses in the night,
|
|
118
|
|
|
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
|
|
119
|
|
|
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
|
|
120
|
|
|
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
|
|
121
|
|
|
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
|
|
122
|
|
|
Making them women of good carriage:
|
|
123
|
|
|
This is she—
|
|
124
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
125
|
|
|
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
|
|
126
|
|
|
Thou talk'st of nothing.
|
|
127
|
|
|
Mercutio.
|
|
128
|
|
|
True, I talk of dreams,
|
|
129
|
|
|
Which are the children of an idle brain,
|
|
130
|
|
|
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
|
|
131
|
|
|
Which is as thin of substance as the air
|
|
132
|
|
|
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
|
|
133
|
|
|
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
|
|
134
|
|
|
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
|
|
135
|
|
|
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
|
|
136
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
137
|
|
|
This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
|
|
138
|
|
|
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
|
|
139
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
| |
|
140
|
|
|
I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
|
|
141
|
|
|
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
|
|
142
|
|
|
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
|
|
143
|
|
|
With this night's revels and expire the term
|
|
144
|
|
|
Of a despised life closed in my breast
|
|
145
|
|
|
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
|
|
146
|
|
|
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
|
|
147
|
|
|
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
|
|
148
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
149
|
|
|
Strike, drum.
|
| |
|
150
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
| |
| |
|
6. Act I, Scene 5
|
|
0
|
|
|
A hall in Capulet’s house.
|
| |
|
1
|
|
|
[Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins]
|
| |
|
2
|
|
|
First Servant.
|
|
3
|
|
|
Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He
|
|
4
|
|
|
shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!
|
|
5
|
|
|
Second Servant.
|
|
6
|
|
|
When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
|
|
7
|
|
|
hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
|
|
8
|
|
|
First Servant.
|
|
9
|
|
|
Away with the joint-stools, remove the
|
|
10
|
|
|
court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save
|
|
11
|
|
|
me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let
|
|
12
|
|
|
the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
|
|
13
|
|
|
Antony, and Potpan!
|
|
14
|
|
|
Second Servant.
|
|
15
|
|
|
Ay, boy, ready.
|
|
16
|
|
|
First Servant.
|
|
17
|
|
|
You are looked for and called for, asked for and
|
|
18
|
|
|
sought for, in the great chamber.
|
|
19
|
|
|
Second Servant.
|
|
20
|
|
|
We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be
|
|
21
|
|
|
brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
|
| |
|
22
|
|
|
[Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers]
|
| |
|
23
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
24
|
|
|
Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
|
|
25
|
|
|
Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.
|
|
26
|
|
|
Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
|
|
27
|
|
|
Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
|
|
28
|
|
|
She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
|
|
29
|
|
|
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
|
|
30
|
|
|
That I have worn a visor and could tell
|
|
31
|
|
|
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
|
|
32
|
|
|
Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:
|
|
33
|
|
|
You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.
|
|
34
|
|
|
A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
|
|
35
|
|
|
[Music plays, and they dance]
|
|
36
|
|
|
More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
|
|
37
|
|
|
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
|
|
38
|
|
|
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
|
|
39
|
|
|
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
|
|
40
|
|
|
For you and I are past our dancing days:
|
|
41
|
|
|
How long is't now since last yourself and I
|
|
42
|
|
|
Were in a mask?
|
|
43
|
|
|
Second Capulet.
|
|
44
|
|
|
By'r lady, thirty years.
|
|
45
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
46
|
|
|
What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
|
|
47
|
|
|
'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,
|
|
48
|
|
|
Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
|
|
49
|
|
|
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
|
|
50
|
|
|
Second Capulet.
|
|
51
|
|
|
'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;
|
|
52
|
|
|
His son is thirty.
|
|
53
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
54
|
|
|
Will you tell me that?
|
|
55
|
|
|
His son was but a ward two years ago.
|
|
56
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
57
|
|
|
[To a Servingman]What lady is that, which doth
|
|
58
|
|
|
enrich the hand
|
|
59
|
|
|
Of yonder knight?
|
|
60
|
|
|
Servant.
|
|
61
|
|
|
I know not, sir.
|
|
62
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
63
|
|
|
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
|
|
64
|
|
|
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
|
|
65
|
|
|
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
|
|
66
|
|
|
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
|
|
67
|
|
|
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
|
|
68
|
|
|
As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
|
|
69
|
|
|
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
|
|
70
|
|
|
And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
|
|
71
|
|
|
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
|
|
72
|
|
|
For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
|
|
73
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
74
|
|
|
This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
|
|
75
|
|
|
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave
|
|
76
|
|
|
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
|
|
77
|
|
|
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
|
|
78
|
|
|
Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
|
|
79
|
|
|
To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
|
|
80
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
81
|
|
|
Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
|
|
82
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
83
|
|
|
Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
|
|
84
|
|
|
A villain that is hither come in spite,
|
|
85
|
|
|
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
|
|
86
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
87
|
|
|
Young Romeo is it?
|
|
88
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
89
|
|
|
'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
|
|
90
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
| |
|
91
|
|
|
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
|
|
92
|
|
|
He bears him like a portly gentleman;
|
|
93
|
|
|
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
|
|
94
|
|
|
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
|
|
95
|
|
|
I would not for the wealth of all the town
|
|
96
|
|
|
Here in my house do him disparagement:
|
|
97
|
|
|
Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
|
|
98
|
|
|
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
|
|
99
|
|
|
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
|
|
100
|
|
|
And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
|
|
101
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
102
|
|
|
It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
|
|
103
|
|
|
I'll not endure him.
|
|
104
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
105
|
|
|
He shall be endured:
|
|
106
|
|
|
What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;
|
|
107
|
|
|
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
|
|
108
|
|
|
You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
|
|
109
|
|
|
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
|
|
110
|
|
|
You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
|
|
111
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
112
|
|
|
Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
|
|
113
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
114
|
|
|
Go to, go to;
|
|
115
|
|
|
You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?
|
|
116
|
|
|
This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:
|
|
117
|
|
|
You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.
|
|
118
|
|
|
Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
|
|
119
|
|
|
Be quiet, or—More light, more light! For shame!
|
|
120
|
|
|
I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!
|
|
121
|
|
|
Tybalt.
|
|
122
|
|
|
Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
|
|
123
|
|
|
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
|
|
124
|
|
|
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall
|
|
125
|
|
|
Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.
|
| |
|
126
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
| |
|
127
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
| |
|
128
|
|
|
[To JULIET]If I profane with my unworthiest hand
|
|
129
|
|
|
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
|
|
130
|
|
|
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
|
|
131
|
|
|
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
|
|
132
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
133
|
|
|
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
|
|
134
|
|
|
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
|
|
135
|
|
|
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
|
|
136
|
|
|
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
|
|
137
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
138
|
|
|
Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
|
|
139
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
140
|
|
|
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
|
|
141
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
142
|
|
|
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
|
|
143
|
|
|
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
|
|
144
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
145
|
|
|
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
|
|
146
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
147
|
|
|
Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
|
|
148
|
|
|
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.
|
|
149
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
150
|
|
|
Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
|
|
151
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
152
|
|
|
Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
|
|
153
|
|
|
Give me my sin again.
|
|
154
|
|
|
Juliet.
|
|
155
|
|
|
You kiss by the book.
|
|
156
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
157
|
|
|
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
|
|
158
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
159
|
|
|
What is her mother?
|
|
160
|
|
|
Nurse.
|
|
161
|
|
|
Marry, bachelor,
|
|
162
|
|
|
Her mother is the lady of the house,
|
|
163
|
|
|
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous
|
|
164
|
|
|
I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal;
|
|
165
|
|
|
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
|
|
166
|
|
|
Shall have the chinks.
|
|
167
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
168
|
|
|
Is she a Capulet?
|
|
169
|
|
|
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
|
|
170
|
|
|
Benvolio.
|
|
171
|
|
|
Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
|
|
172
|
|
|
Romeo.
|
|
173
|
|
|
Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
|
|
174
|
|
|
Capulet.
|
|
175
|
|
|
Nay, |
