« AnteriorContinuar »
when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel* with the maids; I will* cut off their heads.
Gbk. The heads of the maids?
Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden-heads; take it in what sense thou wilt.
Gbe. They must take it int sense, that feel it.
Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Ghe. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.11 Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of the Montagues.(l)
Enter Abbam and another Servant of
Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.
Gbe. How? turn thy back, and run?
Sam. Fear me not.
Gee. No, marry; I fear thee!
Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Gbe. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list.
Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them ;c which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
Abb. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
[Aside to Gregory.
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gbe. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abb. Quarrel, sir? no, sir.
Sam. But if you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.
Abb. No better.
Sam. Well, sir.
» I wilt be cruel with the maids;] The quarto of 1599, that of 1609, and the folio, 1623, which was printed from it, concur in reading drill. The correction appears in a quarto edition without date, published by John Smethwicbe, " at his shop inSainte Dunstanes Church, in Flcete Street, under the Dyall." Smethwicke also published the quarto, 1609 i and the undated edition, which contains several important corrections of previous typographical errors, was probably issued soon after.
b Poor John.] The fish called hake, an inferior sort of cod, when dried and salted, was probably the staple fare of servants and the indigent during Lent; and this sorry dish is perpetually ridiculed by the old writers as " poor John."
« I Kill bite my thumb at them ;] This contemptuous action, though obsolete in this country, is still in use both in France and Italy; but Mr. Knight is mistaken in supposing it identical with what is called giving the fico. Mtitiq the thumb is performed by biting the thumb nail. or, as Cotgrave describes it, "by putting the thuntbe naile into the mouth, and with a Jerks (from the
Enter Benvolio, at a distance.
Gre. Say—better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen. [Aside to Sampson.
Sam. Yes, better, sir.*
Sam. Draw, if you be men.—Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.d [They fight.
Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their swords.
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Bkn. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn,J and talk of peace? I hate the word,
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward! Cozy figlU.
Enter several Followers of both Houses," who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs.
1 Crr. Clubs, bills, and partizans !f strike ! beat them down!
Down with the Capulcts! down with the Montagues!
Enter Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet.
Cap. What noise is this ?—Give me my long sword, ho!
La. Sup. A crutch, a crutch!—why call you
for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say !—Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
(*) First folio omits Mr.
upper teeth) make it to knacke." The more offensive gesticulation of giving the fico was by thrusting out the thumb betweeu the forefingers, or putting it in the mouth so as to swell out the
J Remember the swashing More] To swash perhaps originally meant, as Barret in his " Alvearie," 1580, describes it, "to make a noise with swords against tergats;" but swashing blow here, as in Jonson's "Staple of News," Act V. Sc. 2, " I do confess a swashing blow," means evidently a smashing, crushing blow.
e Enter several Followers, &c] A modern direction. The old copies have merely—" hater three or four citizens with clubs or partysons."
f Clubs, bills, and partisans' I—] Shakespeare, whose wont it is to assimilate the customs of all countries to those of his own, puts the ancient call to arms of the London 'prentices in the mouth of the Veronese citizen.
Enter Montague and Lady Montague.
Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,—Hold me not, let
me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one* foot to seek
Enter Prince, with Attendants.
Pew. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,— Will they not hear ?—what ho! you men, you
beasts,— That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins,— On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince.— Three civil brawls,, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partizans, in hands as old, CankerM with peace, to part your canker'd hate. If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time, all the rest depart away: You, Capulet, shall go along with me, And, Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our farther pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Capulet, Tybalt, Citizens, and Servants.
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach'?— Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?
Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepaid; Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, He swung about his head, and cut the winds, Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more, and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part.
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo!—saw you him to-day?
Right glad am I, he was not of this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worehipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where,—underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rooteth from this city's side,— So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own,— That most are busied when they are most alone,"— Pursued my humour,* not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen,b With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the farthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself—I will not say, how true— But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.e Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know.
Enter Romeo, at a distance.
Ben. See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift.—Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt Montague and Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Is the day so young?
(*) First folio, honour.
(1) First folio, others.
lines following down to—
"And makes himself an artificial night," are first found in the quarto of 1599. Benvolio's inquiry,
"Have you importuned him by any means!" and the reply, are likewise wanting in the first quarto.
c His beauty to the sun.] The old editions have tame. The emendation was made by Theobald.
Ben. But new struck nine.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Bom. Not having that, which, having, makes
Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love.(3) Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will P Where shall we dine ?—O me!—What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
Ben. No, Coz, I rather weep.
Bom. Good heart, at what?
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.—
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Ben. Soft, I will go along;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some otherwhere.
(*) First folio, well seeing.
a See pathways to his will!] This is obscure. The earliest quarto, that of 1597, has,—
11 Should without lawes give path-waies to our will."
And this may help us to the true reading, which very probably was:—
"Should without eyes get pathways to our will
in other words, 11 Make us walk in any direction he chooses to appoint."
b Being purg'd,—] Johnson suggested, and not without reason, that purg'd might be a misprint for urg'd. "To urge the fire," he observes, "is the technical term." Mr. Collier's i
with equal plausibility, changes purg'd to puff'd.
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?
But sadly tell me, who.
Rom. Bid* a sick man in sadness maket his
A word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!—
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd.
Rom. A right good mark-man!—And she's fair I love.
Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.' She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beautyd dies her store.W
Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste?
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow,
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her.
Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties.(5)
Rom. 'Tis the way
To call hers, exquisite, in question more :•
Ben, I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
(*) First folio omits bid. (f) First folio, makei.
(J) First folio, bid.
c she lives unharm'd.] So the quarto of 1597. The subsequent quartos and the folio, 1623, read " uncharm'd."
<1 With beauty dies her store.] The reading of all the ancient copies, which Theobald altered to" with her dies beauty's
« To call here, exquisite, in question more:] This is generally conceived to refer to the beauty of Rosaline. It may mean, however, " that is only the way to throw doubt upon any other beauty I may see;" an interpretation countenanced by the after lines: — "Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note, Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair I"
SCENE IL- A Street.
Cap. But* Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace.
Pab. Of honourable reckoning are you both, And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Let two more summers wither in their pride,
(•) First folio omiti Bui.
• And Servant ] The old editions hare,- "Enter Capulet, Cmnltt Peri*, end the Clone." By Clown was meant the merrynan; and a character of this description was so general in the Pf' of Shakespeare's early period, that his title here ought per•ap" to be retained.
• -: .1 the hopeful lady of my earth:] A gallicism. Steevens
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
Pah. Younger than she are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too soon niarr'd are those so early made.'' Thef earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth :'' But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, (6) Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house, look to behold this night
(*) The first quarto, 1597, reads married.
says, Title ie lerre being the French phrase for an heiress. But Shakespeare may have meant by, " my earth," my corporal part, as in his HGth Sonnet,—
"Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth."
Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: *
Through fair Verona; find those persons out,
and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
[Exeunt Capulet and Paris. Sehv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written—that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here, writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned :—In good time —
Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
Ben. Tut, man 1 one fire burns out another's burning,
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
Take thou some new infection to thy t eye,
Eom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
Ben. For what, I pray thee?
Eom. For your broken shin.
Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
Eom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Serv. God ye good den, —I pray, sir, can you read?
Eom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
P) First folio, fennell. (t) First folio omits here. I J) First folio, the eye.
a That make dark heaven light:] Warburton pronounces this nonsense, and Mason thinks it absurd. The former would read,—
"that make dark even light;"
and the latter,—
"that make dark heaven's light."
Mr. Knight adheres to the old reading, "as passages in the masquerade scene would seem to indicate that the banqueting room opened into a garden." A better reason for abiding by the original text is to consider that the "dark heaven," in Shakespeare's mind, was most probably the Heaven of the stage, hung, as was the custom during the performance of tragedy, with black.
b Such, amongst eictc of many,—] The reading of the quarto, 15:i7. The quarto, 1599, that of 1609, and the folio, 1623, have, "Which one more view," &c. Neither reading affords a clear sense.
Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book: But I pray, can you read any thing you see?
Eom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language.
Serv. Ye say honestly; rest you merry!
Eom. Stay, fellow; I can read. [Reads.
Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughter; County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitruvio; Sionior Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline ; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Ltjcio, and the lively Helena. A fair assembly; [Gives back the note.) Whither should they come?
Rom. Whither to supper?
Eom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before.
Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush11 a cup of wine: rest you merry. [Exit.
Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
Eom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires !*
And these,—who, often drown'd, could never die,—
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun.
Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself pois'd with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love8 against some other maid That I will show you, shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well,t that now shows best.
Eom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt.
(«) Old editions, fire.
e Up.] Is this a misprint for " to sup?"
d Come and crush a cup of wine:] This, like the crack a bottle of later times, was a common invitation of old to a carouse. The following instances of its use, which might be easily multiplied, were collected by Steevens :—
"Fill the pot, hostess, &c, and we'll crush it."
The Two Angry Women of Abingdon, 1599.
11 we 'll crush a cup of thine own country wine."
Hofpmsn's Tragedy, 1611. "Come, George, we 'll crush a pot before we part."
The Pinder of Wakefield, 1599. e Your lady's love—] A corruption, I suspect, for " lady-love." It was not Romeo's love for Rosaline, or hers for him, which was to be poised, but the lady herself "against some other maid."