« ZurückWeiter »
A visor for a visor! what care I,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear, What curious eye doth quote deformities?
Making them women of good carriage.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace , But every man betake him to his legs.
Thou talk'st of nothing. Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart, Mer.
True, I talk of dreams ; Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels ; Which are the children of an idle brain, For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, – Begot of nothing but vain fantasy ; I'll be a candle-holder, and look on, —
Which is as thin
of substance as the air ; The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Mer//Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own Even now the frozen bosom of the north, word :
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourUp to the ears. – - Come, we burn day-light, ho.
selves; Rom. Nay, that's not so.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late. Mer.
I mean, sir, in delay Rome. I fear, too early : for my mind misgives, We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits Shall bitterly begin his fearful date Five times in that, ere once in our five wits. With this night's revels; and expire the term
Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask ; Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death :
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail ! - On, lusty gentlemen.
SCENE V. - A Hall in Capulet's House. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants. Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with 1 Sery. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take you.
away ? he shift a trencher ! he scrape a trencher! She is the fairies' midwife ; and she comes
2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a On the fore-finger of an alderman,
foul thing. Drawn with a team of little atomies
1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep :
court-cupboard, look to the plate : - good thou, Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; save me a piece of marchpane ; and, as thou lovest The cover, of the wings of grashoppers ;
me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and The traces, of the smallest spider's web ;
Nell. - Antony! and Potpan ! The collars, of the moonshine's wat’ry beams : 2 Serv. Ay, boy ; ready. Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film : 1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
for, and sought for, in the great chamber. Not half so big as a round little worm
2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid :
Cheerly, boys; be brisk a while, and the longer Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
liver take all.
[They retire behind. Made by the joiner squirrel, or old grub, Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
Enter CAPULET, fc. with the Guests, and the And in this state she gallops night by night
Maskers. Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love : Cap. Gentlemen, welcome ! ladies, that have their On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight: O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees : Unplagu'd with corns, will have a bout with you :O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream ; Ah ha, my mistress! which of you all Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Will now deny to dance ? she that makes dainty, she, Because their breaths with sweat-meats tainted are. I'll swear, hath corns; Am I come near you now? Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, You are welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit : That I have worn a visor ; and could tell And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail, A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Such as would please ; — 'tis gone 'tis gone, 'tis Then dreams he of another benefice :
gone : Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
You are welcome, gentlemen! - Come, musicians, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
play. Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
A hall ! a hall! give room, and foot it, girls. Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
(Musich plays, and they dance. Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes ; More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. And sleeps again. This is that very Mab,
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. That plats the manes of horses in the night; Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet ; And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs, For you and I are past our dancing days : Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes, How long is't now, since last yourself and I This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, Were in a mask ?
1 er han
you so ?
Rom. If I profane with my unworthy hand 1 Cap. What, man! 'tis not so inuch, 'tis not so
(To JCLIET. much :
This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this, – 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too 2 Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir;
much, His son is thirty.
Which mannerly devotion shows in this; 1 Cap. Will you tell me that?
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, His son was but a ward two years ago.
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. Rom. What lady's that, which doth enrich the Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? hand
Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. Of yonder knight?
Rom. ( then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; Serv. I know not, sir.
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright: Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night
sake. Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
take. So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purg'd. As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
[Kissing her The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. And touching hers, make happy my rude hand.
Rom. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
urg'd! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
Give me my sin again. Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague:
You kiss by the book. Fetch me my raj ier, boy :- What! dares the
Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with slave
you. Come hither, cover'd with an antick face,
Rom. What is her mother? To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ?
Marry, bachelor, Now by the stock and honour of my kin,
Her mother is the lady of the house, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
And a good lady, and a wise, and virtuous : 1 Cap. Why, how now kinsman? wherefore storm
I nurs'd her daughter, that you talk'd withal ;
I tell you, - he, that can lay hold of her,
Is she a Capulet? To scorn at our solemnity this night.
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. 1 Cap. Young Romeo is't?
Ben. Away, begone; the sport is at the best. Tyb.
'Tis he, that villain Romeo. Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. 1 Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone, 1 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be go re He bears him like a portly gentleman;
We have a trilling foolish banquet towards. And, to say truth, Verona brags of him,
Is it e'en so ? Why, then I thank you all ; To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth :
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night :I would not for the wealth of all this town,
More torches here ! - Come on, then let's to bed. Here in my house, do him disparagement :
Ah, sirrah, (To 2 Cap.) by my fay, it waxes late ; Therefore be patient, take no note of him,
I'll to my rest. [Ereunt all but Juliet and Nurse. It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Jul. Come hither, nurse: What is yon gentleman? Show a fair presence, and put off these frowns, Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
Jul. What's he, that now is going out of door ? Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest; Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio. I'll not endure him.
Jul. What's he, that follows there, that would not He shall be endur'd;
dance? What, goodman boy!. I say, he shall; - Go to ; — Nurse. I know not. Am I the master here, or you ? go to.
Jul. Go, ask his name:- if he be married, You'll not endure him! - God shall mend my | My grave is like to be my wedding bed. soul
Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague; You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
The only son of your great enemy. You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man ! Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate ! Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Go to, go to,
Prodigious birth of love it is to me, You are a saucy boy :- Is't so, indeed ?
That I must love a loathed enemy. This trick may chance to scath you ; — I know Nurse. What's this? What's this? what.
A rhyme I learn'd even now You must contráry me! marry, 'tis time —
Of one I danc'd withal. [One calls within, JULIET. Well said, my hearts : - You are a princox; go: Nurse.
Anon, anon:Be quiet,
- More light, more light, for shame! Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. I'll make you quiet ; What ! - Cheerly, my hearts.
[Ereunt. Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
Enter CHORUS. I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall,
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, Now sceming sweet, convert to bitter gall. (Exit. And young ailection gapes to be his heir,
That fair, which love groan'd for, and would die, Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
And she as much in love, her means much less Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;
.To meet her new-beloved any where : But to his foe suppos’d he must complain,
But passion lends them power, time means to meet, And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: | Temp’ring extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit.
SCENE I. · An open Place, adjoining Capulet's | But, soft! what light through yonder window Garden.
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! -
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady ; 0, it is my love : Mer.
He is wise ;
O, that she knew she were ! And, on my life, hath stolen him home to bed. She speaks, yet she says nothing ; What of that? Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard Her eye discourses, I will answer it. wall:
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Call, good Mercutio.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Mer.
Nay, I'll conjure too. Having some business, do entreat her eyes Romeo! humours ! madman! passion! lover! To twinkle in their spheres till they return. Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,
What if her eyes were there, they in her head ? Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, Cry but
Ah me! couple but - love and dove; As daylight doth a lamp ; her eye in heaven Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
Would through the airy region stream so bright, One nick-name for her purblind' son and heir, That birds would sing, and think it were not night. Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
That I might touch that cheek!
Ah me! I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
She speaks: By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh, As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
As is a winged messenger of heaven That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
Unto the white-upturned wond’ring eyes Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him,
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
And sails upon the bosom of the air. Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
Jul. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
Rom. Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this ? Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among those trees,
[Aside. To be consorted with the humorous night:
Jul. 'Tis but thy name, that is my enemy; Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.
Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. What's Montague ? it is nor hand, nor foot, Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part And wish bis mistress were that kind of fruit, Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. What's in a name ? that which we call a rose, Romeo, good night; — I'll to my truckle-bed;} By any other name would smell as sweet ; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep :
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo callid, Come, shall we go?
Retain that dear perfection which he owes, Ben.
Go, then ; for 'tis in vain Without that title : Romeo, doff thy name ; To seek him here, that means not to be found. And for that name, which is no part of thee,
[Ereunt. | Take all myself.
I take thee at thy word :
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen’d in Rom. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.
night, (Juķiet appears above, at a winelow. So stumblest on my counsel ? 7
By a name
Which is the god of my idolatry, I know not how to tell thee who I am :
And I'll believe thee. My name, clear saint, is hateful to myself,
If my heart's dear love Because it is an enemy to thee;
Jul. Well, do not swear : although I joy in thee, Had I it written, I would tear the word.
I have no joy of this contract to-night : Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words | It is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden; Of ibat tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ?
Ere one can say - It lightens. Sweet, good night! Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me ? and where- May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. fóre?
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb; Come to thy heart, as that within my breast ! And the place death, considering who thou art, Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ? If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for these walls;
mine. For stony limits cannot hold love out:
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And what love can do, that dares love attempt; And yet I would it were to give again. Therefore thy kinsinen are no let to me.
Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purJul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack? there lies more peril in thine eye, Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet, And yet I wish but for the thing I have ;, And I am proof against their enmity.
My bounty is as boundless as the sea, Jul. I would not for the world, they saw thee My love as deep; the more I give to thee, here.
The more I have, for both are infinite. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their
[Nurse calls within. sight;
I hear some noise within ; Dear love, adieu ! And, but tbou love me, let them find me here: Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. My life were better ended by their hate,
Stay but a little, I will come again.
Ent. Than death prorogued,wantir y of thy love.
Rom. O blessed blessed night! I am afeard, Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this Being in night, all this is but a dream, place ?
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
Re-enter JULIET, above. He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
indeed. As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea, If that thy bent of love be honourable, I would adventure for such merchandise.
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, Ju. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite ; Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
Nurse. [Within.] Madam. What I have spoke; But farewell compliment ! Jul. I come, anon: - But if thou mean'st not Dost thou love me? I know, thou wilt say — Ay;
well, And I will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st, I do beseech thee, Thou may'st prove false ; at lovers' perjuries,
Nurse. [Within.] Madam. They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo,
By and by, I come: If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully :
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief : Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
To-morrow will I send. I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thrive my soul; So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world. Jul. A thousand times good night! [Erit. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ;
Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy And therefore thou may'st think my haviour light :
light. But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their Than those that have more cunning w be strange.
books ; I should have been more strange, I must confess, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was ware,
[Retiring slowly. My true love's passion: therefore pardon me; And not impute this yielding to light love,
Re-enter JULIET, above. Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! -0, for a falconer's Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
三、 That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where echo lies, That monthly changes in her circled orb,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
With repetition of my Romeo's name. Rom. What shall I swear by?
Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name. Jul.
Do not swear at all; How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious zelf,
Like softest musick to attending ears! ? itin diizin bir
Jul. Romeo !
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head,
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed :
At what o'clock to-morrow Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Jul. I will not fail ; 'tis twenty years till then. Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reigns I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure,
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Or if not so, then here 1 hit it right -
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. Forgetting any other home but this.
Fri. God pardon sin ! wast thou with Rosaline ? Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone: Rom. With Rosaline, my gliostly father ? no ; And yet no further than a wanton's bird; i I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thoi Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
been then? And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. So loving-jealous of his liberty.
I have been feasting with mine enemy ; Rom. I would, I were thy bird.
Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, Jul.
Sweet, so would I : That's by me wounded; both our remedies Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing, Within thy help and holy physick lies : Good night, good night! parting is such sweet I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo, sorrow,
My intercession likewise steads my foe. That I shall say — good night, till it be morrow. Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy
drift; Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. breast !
Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love 'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest !
is set Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell ;
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet : His help to craye, and my dear hap to tell. (En As mine on her's, so hers is set on mine;
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine SCENE III. — Friar Laurence's Cell. By holy marriage : When, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow, Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket.
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning That thou consent to marry us this day. night,
Fri. Holy Saint Francis ! what a change is here ! Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light ; Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Frem forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels : Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Now ere the sun advance his burning eye,
Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine
How much salt water thrown away in waste, With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. To season love, that of it doth not taste ! The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, What is her burying grave, that is her womb : Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears ; And from her womb children of divers kind Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit We sucking on her natural bosom find;
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet : Many for many virtues excellent,
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine, None but for some, and yet all different.
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline; 0, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies
And art thou chang'd ? pronounce this sentence In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities :
then For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. But to the earth some special good doth give; Rom. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline. Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse :
Rom. And bad'st me bury love. Virtue itself turns vice, being inisapplied;
Not in a grave, And vice sometime's by action dignified.
To lay one in, another out to have. Within the infant rind of this small flower
Rom. I pray thee, chide not : she, whom I love Poison hath residence, and med'cine power:
now, For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
The other did not so. Two such opposed foes encamp them still
O, she knew well, In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will ; Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell. And, where the worser is predominant,
But come, young waverer, come go with me,
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households' rancour to pure love. Rom. Good morrow, father!
Rom. 0, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. Fri.
Fri. Wisely, and slow ; They stumble, that run What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?