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ROMEO, Son to Montague.

MERCUTIO, Friends of Romeo,
BENVOLIO,

TYBALT, Kinsman to Capulet.

An old Man, his Cousin.

Friar LAWRENCE, a Franciscan.

Friar JOHN, of the same Order.

BALTHASAR, Servant to Romeo.
SAMPSON,

GREGORY,

} Servants to Capulet.

ABRAM, Servant to Montague.

Three Musicians.

PETER.

Lady MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague,

Lady CAPULET, Wife to Capulet.

JULIET, Daughter to Capulet; in love with Romeo.
Nurse to Juliet.

CHORUS, Page, Boy to Paris, an Officer, an Apothecary.

Citizens of Verona, several Mer and Women, Relations to both Houses; Maskers, Guards, Watch, and other Attendants.

The SCENE, in the beginning of the fifth Act, is in Mantua; during all the rest of the Play, at Verona

PROLOGUE,

TWO households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny., Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean, From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-crost lovers take their life; Whose misadventur'd pileous overthrows

Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which,but their children's end,nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
5 The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

SCENE I.

A STREET.

ACT I,

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REGORY, o' my word, we'll not carry 20
coals 2.

Greg. No, for then we should be colliers.
Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
Greg. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out
of the collar.

Sam. I strike quickly, being mov'd.
Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike.

Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me. Greg. To move, is---to stir; and to be valiant, is--to stand to it: therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'st away.

Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

Greg, That shews thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Sam. True; and therefore women, being the 25 weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

The story on which this play is founded, is related as a true one in Girolamo de la Corte's History of Verona, and was well known to the English poets before the time of Shakespeare. Dr. Warburton observes, that this was a phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries.

3Q 4

Greg.

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Greg. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men.

Sam. 'Tis all one, I will shew myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads.

Greg. The heads of the maids?

Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

Down with the Capuleta! down with the Montagues!

Enter old Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long 5 sword, ho!

Greg. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: 10 and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Greg. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been Poor John.-Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of the Montagues. Enter Abram, and Balthasar.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.

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Greg. How? turn thy back and run?
Sum. Fear me not.

Greg. No, marry; I fear thee!

Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

Greg. 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; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abr. Do you bite your
thumb at us, sir?
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say—ay?
Greg. No.

Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you,
sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Greg. Do you quarrel, sir?
Abr. Quarrel, sir? no, sir.

Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as

good a man as you.

Abr. No better.

Sam. Well, sir.

Enter Benvolio.

Greg. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Sam. Yes, better, sir.

Abr. You lye.

15

25

La. Cap. 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 nie.

Enter old Montague, and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,Hold me not, let me go.

La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Enter Prince, with Attendants.
Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stain'd steel,—
Will they not hear?-What ho! you men, you
beasts,-

20 That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your vems,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throwyour 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,
30 To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred 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:
35 You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgement-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
[Exeunt Prince, Capulet, &c.
Mon.Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach:-
Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?

401

Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, re-451
member thy swashing' blow. [They fight.
Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords;
You know not what you do.
Enter Tybalt.

Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart-50
less hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate 55
the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:

Have at thee, coward.

Enter three or four Citizens, with clubs.

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary,
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
drew to part them; in the instant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd;
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my cars,
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 I am, he was not at this fray.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where-underneath the grove of sycamour,

Cit, Clubs, bills, and partisans ! strike! beat 60 That westward rooteth from the city' side-
them down!
So early walking did I see your son:

To swash seems to have meant to be a bully, to be noisily valiant. was the sword used in war, which was sometimes wielded with both hands. are weapons used in anger.

* The long sword Mis-temper'd weapons

Towards

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,-
Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen
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 furthest 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 day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous must his humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

5

[Feather of lead, bright smoak,cold fire,sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!-
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?

Ben. No, coz, I rather weep,
Rom. Good heart, at what?

Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.

Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.→→ Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; 10 Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lover's eyes; 15 Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. 20
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 same.

25

Could we but learn froin whence his sorrows grow, 30|
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 deny'd.
Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay.
To hear true shrift.-Come, madam, let's away.

Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Rom. Is the day so young?

[Exeunt.

35

Ben. Soft, I will go along;

[Going.

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 other where.
Ben. Tell me in sadness', who she is you love?
Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee?
Ben. Groan? why, no;

But sadly tell me, who.

Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:O word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marks-man!-Ånd 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, 40 Nor bid 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 beauty dies her store'. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? [waste; Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge For beauty, stary'd with her severity, Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, 50 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. But new struck nine.
Rom. Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Was that iny father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was: What sadness lengthens Romeo's
hours?
[them short. 45
Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes
Ben. In love?

Rom. Out

Ben. Of love?

Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love. 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 path-ways to his will! Where shall we dine?-Ome!-What fray was 55 here?

Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:--
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first created!"
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

That is, tell me in seriousness.

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.

Rom. 'Tis the way.

To call hers, exquisite, in question more:
These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brows,
60 Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-sight lost.

2 Mr. Theobald reads, "With her dies beauty's store."

i, e. the masks worn by female spectators of the play.

Shew

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Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. Cap. And 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.

Par. 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, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early

made.

The 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,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store, [more.
One more, most welcome, makes my number
At my poor house, look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
When well-apparel'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
And like her most, whose merits most shall be:
Such, amongst view of many, mine being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me:-Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona, find those persons out,
Whose names are written there; and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.

5

15

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ;' Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperategrief cureswith another'slanguishe Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.

Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. Ben. For what, I pray thee?

Rom. For your broken shin.

Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

fellow.

[is;

10 Rom.Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipt, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good
[read?
Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, sir, can you
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book:
But I pray, can you read any thing you see?
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Serv. Ye say honestly; Rest you merry!
Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.

20

[He reads the list.]

"Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; "County Anselm, and his beauteous sisters; The

lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and 25" 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; Lucio, and the lively Helena."

30 A fair assembly; Whither should they come? Soro. Up..

35

Rom. Whither to supper?
Serv. To our house.
Rom. Whose house?
Serv. My master's.

[fore.

Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that beServ. 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 40 crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry.

Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; With all the admired beauties of Verona: Go thither; and, with untainted eye, 45 Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

Rom. 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 hereticks, 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! tut! you saw her fair, none else being Herself pois'd with herself in either eye: But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will shew you, shining at this feast, And sheshall scant shew well, that now shews best. Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shewn, 60 But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt.

Serv. Find them out, whose names are written 50 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 55 names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned:In good time.

Enter Benvolio, and Romeo.

Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning.

[by,

This is a Gallicism: Fille de terre is the French phrase for an heiress. * A cant expression which seems to have been once common among low people. We still say-to crack a bottle. › Your lady's love is the love you bear to your lady, which in our language is commonly used for the lady herself.

SCENE

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