From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's' wheels: Now ere the sun advance his burning eye, Benedicite! Rom. Good morrow, father! Fri. What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?Young son, it argues a distemper'd head, So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: 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, Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:| Therefore thy earliness doth me assure, Thou art up-rous'd by some distemp'rature; Or if not so, then here I hit it rightOur Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, (1) The sun. (2) Virtue. (3) i. e. It is of the utmost consequence for me to be hasty. So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies then Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. To lay one in, another out to have. now, Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; Fri. fast. SCENE IV-A street. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio. Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be?Came he not home to-night? Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. Ben. Romeo will answer it. Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a letter. Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot tho. rough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft ;4 And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats,5 I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house,-of the first and second cause: Ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay !7 Ben. The what? Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents!-By Jesu, a very good blade!—a very tall man!—a very good whore!-Why, is not this a lamentable (4) Arrow. (5) See the story of Reynard the fox. (6) By notes pricked down. (7) Terms of the fencing-school. thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moys, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bons, their bons! Enter Romeo. Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring :-O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!-Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen-wench ;-Marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her: Dido, a dowdy: Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.-Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your French slop.2 You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. Rom. Good-morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? Mer. The slip, sir, the slip ;3 Can you not conceive? Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and, in such a case as mine, a man may strain courtesy. Mer. That's as much as to say-such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. Rom. Meaning-to court'sy. Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it. Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. Rom. Why, then is my pump4 well flowered. Mer. Well said: Follow me this jest now, till thou hast worn out thy pump; that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular. Rom. O single-soled3 jest, solely singular for the singleness! natural, that runs lolling up and down, to hide his bauble in a hole. Ben. Stop there, stop there. Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large. Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have made it short: for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. Rom. Here's goodly geer! Enter Nurse and Peter. Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail! Ben. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock. Peter. Anon? Nurse. My fan, Peter.9 Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer of the two. Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you? Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made himself to mar. Nurse. By my troth, it is well said;-For himself to mar, quoth'a?-Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo? Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him, than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for 'fault of a worse. Nurse. You say well. Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i'faith; wisely, wisely. Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confi Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my witsdence with you. fail. Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace,6 I have done; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: Was I with you there for the goose? Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, when thou wast not there for the goose. Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel,8 that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! Rom. I stretch it out for that word-broad: which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature for this drivelling love is like a great (1) In ridicule of Frenchified coxcombs. (2) Trowsers or pantaloons, a French fashion in|| Shakspeare's time. (3) A pun on counterfeit money, called slips. (6) A horse-race in any direction the leader chooses to take. (7) An apple. (8) Soft stretching leather. Ben. She will indite him to some supper. Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. An old hare hoar, 12 And an old hare hoar, Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither. Rom. I will follow you. Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, lady, lad 13 [Exe. Mer. and Ben. Nurse. Marry, farewell!-I pray you, what saucy merchant14 was this, that was so full of his ropery Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and will speak more in a minute, than he will stand to in a month. Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll take him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and (9) It was the custom for servants to carry the lady's fan. (10) Good even. (12) Hoary, mouldy. (11) Point. (13) The burden of an old song. (14) A term of disrespect in contradistinction to gentleman. (15) Roguery. twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirtgills; I am none of his skains-mates :-And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side. "Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!-Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. if Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and misI protest unto thee, tress. Nurse. Good heart! and, i'faith, I will tell her as much: Lord, lord, she will be a joyful woman. Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. Nurse. I will tell her, sir,-that you do protest; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift2 This afternoon; And there she shall at friar Laurence' cell Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbeywall : Within this hour my man shall be with thee; Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse? Two may keep counsel, putting one away? Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel. Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady-Lord, lord!-when 'twas a little prating thing,-O,-there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the varsal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? Rom. Ay, nurse; What of that? both with an R. Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other letter and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. SCENE V-Capulet's garden. Enter Juliet. Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promis'd to return. But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Enter Nurse and Peter. O God, she comes!-O honey nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit Peter. Jul. Now, good sweet nurse,-O lord! why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; Nurse. I am weary, give me leave a while;— Fie, now my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had! Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy To say to me-that thou art out of breath? Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,-though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: He is not the flower of courtesy,-but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb.-Go thy ways, wench; serve God.-What, have you dined at home? Jul No, no: But all this did I know before; What says he of our marriage? what of that? Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. (4) Requite. (5) Drive her, as a ball struck with a bandy; i. e. a bat or battledore. (3) The highest extremity of the mast of a ship. (6) Ill betide. Jul. I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not well : Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? Nurse. Your love says like an honest gentleman, Fri. Come, come with me, and we will make For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, ACT III. SCENE I-A public place. Enter Mercutio, Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire; Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell, Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after hours with sorrow chide us not! there is no need. Ben. Am I like such a fellow? Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. Ben. And what to? Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, fare-have none shortly, for one would kill the other. well. [Exeunt. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath SCENE VI-Friar Laurence's cell. Enter hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou Friar Laurence and Romeo. nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes; What eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarhoneyrelling! Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, Enter Juliet. Here comes the lady :-), so light a foot Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too much. Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. Mer. The fee-simple? O simple! Enter Tybalt, and others. Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow." Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving? Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,-Mer. Consort? what, dost thou make us minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. livery: Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love Doth much excuse the appertaining rage And in my temper soften'd valour's steel. That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds, This but begins the wo, others must end. Re-enter Tybalt. Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Shalt with him hence. Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! A la stoccatal carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher2 by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you. your [Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. [They fight. Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for shame Mer. I am hurt :- Ben. Rom. This shall determine that. Ben. Romeo, away, be gone! Rom. O! I am fortune's fool! Why dost thou stay? [Exit Romeo. Enter Citizens, &c. 1 Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio? Up, sir, go with me; Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's Where is my page?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave Of my dear kinsman!--Prince, as thou art true, man. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world:-For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.A plague o'both your houses!-Zounds, a dog, a O cousin, cousin! rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic!-Why, the devil, came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Rom. I thought all for the best. Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink Could not take truce with the unruly spleen [Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, (1) The Italian term for a thrust or stab with a With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast; (3) Cool, considerate gentleness. (4) Conduct for conductor. (5) Accompany. (6) Just and upright. (7) Slight, unimportant. |