ROMEO & JULIET - University Of Illinois · ROMEO AND JULIET he was so much struck with, was young Juliet, daughter and heir to the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues ;

THE LAMB SHAKESPEARE FOR THE YOUNG

ROMEO & JULIET

ILLUSTRATED BY

L. E. W R I G H T

NEW YORK

D U F F I E L D & COMPANY

1909

'LOVE'S NOT TIME'S FOOL, THOUGH ROSY LIPS AND CHEEKS

WITHIN HIS BENDING SICKLE'S COMPASS COME; LOVE ALTERS NOT WITH HIS BRIEF HOURS AND

WEEKS, BUT BEARS IT OUT EVEN TO T H E EDGE OF DOOM."

SHAKESPEARE : Sonnet cxvi.

had been an old quarrel between these families, which had grown to such a height, and the enmity was so deadly between them, that it extended to the remotest kindred, to the followers and retainers of both sides, insomuch that a servant of the house of Montague could not meet a servant of the house of Capulet, nor could a Capulet meet a Montague by

5

ROMEO AND JULIET

THE two chief families in Verona were the rich Capulets and the Montagues. There

T H E LAMB SHAKESPEARE

chance, but fierce words and sometimes bloodshed ensued ; and frequent were the brawls from such accidental meetings, which disturbed the happy quiet of Verona's streets.

Old Lord Capulet made a great supper, to which many fair ladies and many noble guests were invited. All the admired beauties of Verona were present, and all comers were made welcome if they were not of the house of Montague. At this feast of Capulets, Rosaline, beloved of Romeo, son to the old Lord Montague, was present ; and though it was dangerous for a Montague to be seen in this assembly, yet Benvolio, a friend of Romeo, persuaded the young lord to go to this assembly in the disguise of a mask, that he might see his Rosaline, and seeing her, compare her with some choice beauties of Verona, who (he said) would make him think his swan a crow. Romeo had small faith in Benvolio's words ; nevertheless, for the love of Rosaline, he was persuaded to go. For Romeo was a sincere and passionate lover, and one that lost his sleep for love, and fled society to be alone, thinking on Rosaline, who disdained him, and never requited his love with the least show of

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R O M E O AND J U L I E T

courtesy or affection ; and Benvolio wished to cure his friend of this love by showing him different kinds of ladies and company. To this feast of Capulets then, young Romeo with Benvolio and their friend Mercutio went masked. Old Capulet bid them welcome, and told them that ladies who had their toes unplagued with corns would dance with them. And the old man was light-hearted and merry, and said that he had worn a mask when he was young, and could have told a whispering tale in a fair lady's ear. And they fell to dancing, and Romeo was suddenly struck with the exceeding beauty of a lady who danced there, who seemed to him to teach the torches to burn bright, and her beauty to show by night like a rich jewel worn by a blackamoor : beauty too rich for use, too dear for earth ! like a snowy dove trooping with crows (he said), so richly did her beauty and perfections shine above the ladies her companions. While he uttered these praises, he was overheard by Tybalt, a nephew of Lord Capulet, who knew him by his voice to be Romeo. And this Tybalt, being of a fiery and passionate temper, could not endure that a Montague should


come, under cover of a mask, to fleer and scorn (as he said) at their solemnities. And he stormed and raged exceedingly, and would have struck young Romeo dead. But his uncle, the old Lord Capulet, would not suffer him to do any injury at that time, both out of respect to his guests, and because Romeo had borne himself like a gentleman, and all tongues in Verona bragged of him to be a virtuous and well-governed youth. Tybalt, forced to be patient against his will, restrained himself, but swore that this vile Montague should at another time dearly pay for his intrusion.

The dancing being done, Romeo watched the place where the lady stood ; and under favour of his masking habit, which might seem to excuse in part the liberty, he presumed in the gentlest manner to take her by her hand, calling it a shrine, which if he profaned by touching it, he was a blushing pilgrim, and would kiss it for atonement. In such sweet loving talk were they engaged, when the lady was called away to her mother. And Romeo inquiring who her mother was, discovered that the lady whose peerless beauty

I


he was so much struck with, was young Juliet, daughter and heir to the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues ; and that he had unknowingly engaged his heart to his foe. This troubled him, but it could not dissuade him from loving. As little rest had Juliet, when she found that the gentleman that she had been talking with was Romeo and a Montague, for she had been suddenly smitten with the same hasty and inconsiderate passion for Romeo, which he had conceived for her ; and it seemed a dreadful thing to her, that she must love her enemy, and that her affections should settle there, where family considerations should induce her chiefly to hate.

Here is the ball-room scene, where the lovers first meet, and where, in sharp contrast with their love, we are shown the violent hate of the fiery Tybalt. But the whole world seems, as it were, to be hushed while Romeo and Juliet approach, and lose their hearts to one another.

9


A hall in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers.

Gap. Welcome, gentlemen ! ladies that have their toes

Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.

Ah ha, my mistresses ! which of you all Will now deny to dance ? she that makes

dainty, She, Fll swear, hath corns ; am I come near

ye now ? Welcome, gentlemen ! I have seen the day That I have worn a visor and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please : 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis

gone : You are welcome, gentlemen ! Come, mu

sicians, play. A hall, a hall ! give room ! and foot it, girls.

[Music plays, and they dance. More light, you knaves ; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too

hot. i *


Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet ; For you and I are past our dancing days : How long is't now since last yourself and I Were in a mask ?

Sec. Cap. By'r lady, thirty years. Cap. What, man ! 'tis not so much, 'tis

not so much : 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years ; and then we

mask'd. Sec. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more : his son is

elder, sir ; His son is thirty.

Cap. Will you tell me that ? His son was but a ward two years ago.

Rom. [To a Servingman\ What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight ? Serv. I know not, sir. Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to

burn bright ! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear ; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear !

I I


So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of

stand, And, touching hers, make blessed my rude

hand. Did my heart love till now ? forswear it,

sight ! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague.

Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave

Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity ? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Cap. Why, how now, kinsman ! wherefore storm you so ?

Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Cap. Young Romeo is it ? Tyb. 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. Cap. Content thee, gentle coz, let him

alone ; 12


He bears him like a portly gentleman ; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well govern'd youth : I would not for the wealth of all the town Here in my house do him disparagement : Therefore be patient, take no note of him : It is my will, the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence and put off these frowns An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast,

Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest: I'll not endure him.

Cap. He shall be endured : What, goodman boy ! I say, he shall : go to ; Am I the master here, or you ? go to. You'll not endure him ! God shall mend my

soul ! You'll make a mutiny among my guests ! You will set cock-a-hoop ! you'll be the man !

Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. Cap. Go to, go to ;

You are a saucy boy : is't so, indeed ? This trick may chance to scathe you, I know

what : You must contrary me ! marry, 'tis time. Well said, my hearts ! You are a princox ;

g o : 13


Be quiet, or—More light, more light ! For shame !

I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts !

Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting

Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.

I will withdraw : but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.

[Exit Rom. [to Juliet] If I profane with my

unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this :

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this ; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do

touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

Rom. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too ?

THE MEETING


Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do ;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Rom. Sin from my lips ? O trespass sweetly urged !

Give me my sin again. Jul. You kiss by the book. Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a

word with you. Rom. What is her mother ? Nurse. Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous : I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd

withal; 16


I tell you, he that can lay hold of her Shall have the chinks.

Rom. Is she a Capulet ? 0 dear account ! my life is my foe's debt.

Ben. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.

Rom. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be

gone ; We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. Is it e'en so ? why, then, I thank you all; 1 thank you, honest gentlemen ; good night. More torches here ! Come on then, let's to

bed. Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late : I'll to my rest.

[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse. "Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond

gentleman ? Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. Jul. What's he that now is going out of

door ? Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young

Petrucio. Jul. What's he that follows there, that

would not dance ? 17 B

T H E LAMB S H A K E S P E A R E

Nurse. I know not. Jul. Go, ask his name : if he be married,

My grave is like to be my wedding bed. Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Mon

tague ; The only son of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate !

Too early seen unknown, and known too late ! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nurse. What's this ? what's this ? Jul. A rhyme I learn'd e'en now

Of one I danced withal. [One calls within "Juliet."

Nurse. Anon, anon ! Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

[Exeunt.

18

he leaped the wall of an orchard which was at the back of Juliet's house. Here he had not been long, thinking of his new love, when Juliet appeared above at a window, through which her exceeding beauty seemed to break like the light of the sun in the east ; and the moon, which shone in the orchard with a faint light, appeared to Romeo as if sick and pale with grief at the superior lustre of this new sun. And she leaning her cheek upon her hand, he passionately wished himself a glove upon that hand, that he might touch her cheek. She all this while thinking herself alone, fetched a deep sigh, and exclaimed, " Ah

J9


me!" Romeo was enraptured to hear her speak, but did not let her know at first that he was there, until he had heard from her own lips, when she did not dream that he was near her, a confession of her love. So with an honest frankness, which the novelty of her situation excused, she confirmed the truth of what he had before heard, and addressing him by the name of fair Montague (love can sweeten a sour name), she begged him not to impute her easy yielding to levity or an unworthy mind, but that he must lay the fault of it (if it were a fault) upon the accident of the night which had so strangely discovered her thoughts. And she added, that though her behaviour to him might not be sufficiently prudent, measured by the custom of her sex, yet that she would prove more true than many whose prudence was dissembling, and their modesty artificial cunning.

Romeo was beginning to call the heavens to witness, that nothing was farther from his thoughts than to impute a shadow of dishonour to such an honoured lady, when she stopped him, begging him not to swear ; for although she joyed in him, yet she had no joy of that

2 0

ROMEO AND J U L I E T

night's contract : it was too rash, too unadvised, too sudden. But he being urgent with her to exchange a vow of love with him that night, she said that she already had given him hers before he requested it ; meaning, when he overheard her confession ; But she would retract what she then, bestowed, for the pleasure of giving it again, for her bounty was as infinite as the sea, and her love as deep :—

Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

[JULIET appears above at a window. But, soft ! what light through yonder window

breaks ? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief,, That thou her maid art far more fair than she : Be not her maid, since she is envious. It is my lady, O, it is my love ! O, that she knew she were ! She speaks, yet she says nothing : what of

that ? Her eye discourses ; I will answer it.

21


I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks : Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those

stars, As daylight doth a lamp ; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so

bright That birds would sing and think it were not

night. See, how she .leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek !

Jul. Ay me ! Rom. She speaks:

O, speak again, bright angel ! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to ga^e on him, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Jul. O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ?

22


Deny thy father and refuse thy name ; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. \Aside\ Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this ?

Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What's Montague ? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name ! What's in a name ? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet ; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself.

Rom. I take thee at thy word ; Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized ; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Jul. What man art thou that thus be-screen'd in night

So stumblest on my counsel ? Rom. By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am : My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

23


Because it is an enemy to thee ; Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound :

Art thou not Romeo and a Montague ? Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee

dislike. Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me,

and wherefore ? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou

art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt ; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords : look thou but sweet,

24


And I am proof against their enmity. Jul. I would not for the world they saw

thee here, Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from

their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here : My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place ?

Rom. By Love, who first did prompt me to inquire ;

H e hnt me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest

sea, 1 would adventure for such merchandise,

Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to

n ight Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke : but farewell compliment I Dost thou love me ? I know thou wilt say

" A y , " 25


And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear's t,

Thou mayst prove false ; at lovers' perjuries, They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully : Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse and say thee nay, So thou wilt woo ; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour

light : But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be

strange. I should have been more strange, I must

confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion : therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops— Jul. O, swear not by the moon, the in

constant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb,

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Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. Rom. What shall I swear by ? Jul. Do not swear at all ;

Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee.

Rom. If my heart's dear love-— Jul. Well, do not swear : although I joy

in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night : It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden ; Too like the lightning, which doth cease

to be Ere one can say " It lightens." Sweet, good

night ! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we

meet. Good night, good night ! as sweet repose and

rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast !

Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ? Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have

to-night ? Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful

vow for mine. 27


Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it :

And yet I would it were to give again. Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it ? for what

purpose, love ? Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee

again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have : My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep ; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.

From this loving conference she was called away by her nurse, who slept with her, and thought it time for her to be in bed, for it was near to daybreak ; but hastily returning, she said three or four words more to Romeo, the purport of which was, that if his love was indeed honourable, and his purpose marriage, she would send a messenger to him to-morrow, to appoint a time for their marriage, when she would lay all her fortunes at his feet, and follow him as her lord through the world. While they were settling this point, Juliet was repeatedly called for by her nurse, and went in and returned, and went and returned

28


again, for she seemed as jealous of Romeo going from her, as a young girl of her bird, which she will let hop a little from her hand, and pluck it back with a silken thread ; and Romeo was as loath to part as she ; for the sweetest music to lovers is the sound of each other's voices at night. But at last they parted, wishing each other sweet sleep and rest for that night :—

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

29

ci-k and Romeo, who was too full of thoughts of his mistress and that blessed meeting to allow him to sleep, instead of going home, bent his steps to a monastery hard by, to find Friar Laurence. The good Friar was already at his devotions, but seeing young Romeo abroad so early, he conjectured rightly that he had not been abed that night, but that some youthful affection had kept him waking. He was right in imputing the cause of Romeo's wakefulness to love, but he made a wrong guess at the object, for he thought that his love for Rosaline had kept him waking. But when Romeo revealed his new passion for Juliet, and requested the assistance of the Friar to marry them that day, the holy man lifted up his eyes and hands in a sort of wonder at the sudden change in Romeo's affections, for he knew all about Romeo's love for Rosaline,

3°


and his many complaints of her disdain ; and he said, that young men's love lay not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. But Romeo replying, that he himself had often chidden him for doting on Rosaline, who could not love him again, whereas Juliet both loved and was beloved by him, the Friar assented in some measure to his reasons; and thinking that a matrimonial alliance between young Juliet and Romeo might perhaps be the means of making up the long breach between the Capulets and the Montagues, which no one more lamented than this good Friar, who was a friend to both the families, and had often interposed his mediation to make up the quarrel without effect, partly moved by policy, and partly by his fondness for young Romeo, to whom he could deny nothing, the old man consented to join their hands in marriage :—

But come, young waverer, come, go with me,

In one respect I'll thy assistant be ; For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households' rancour to pure

love. 3 1


Now was Romeo blessed indeed, and Juliet, who knew his intent from a messenger whom she had despatched according to promise, did not fail to be early at the cell of Friar Laurence, where their hands were joined in holy marriage; the good Friar praying the heavens to smile upon that act, and in the union of this young Montague and young Capulet to bury the old strife and long dissensions of their families.

The ceremony being over, Juliet hastened home, where she stayed impatient for the coming of night, at which time Romeo promised to come and meet her in the orchard, where they had met the night before ; and the time between seemed as tedious to her, as the night before some great festival seems to an impatient child, that has got new finery which it may not put on till the morning.

That same day, about noon, Romeo's friends, Benvolio and Mercutio, walking through the streets of Verona, were met by a party of the Capulets with the impetuous Tybalt at their head. This was the same angry Tybalt who would have fought with Romeo at old Lord Capulet's feast. He,

32

JULIET AT THE FRIAR'S CELL

c


seeing Mercutio, accused him bluntly ot associating with Romeo, a Montague. Mercutio, who had as much fire and youthful blood in him as Tybalt, replied to this accusation with some sharpness ; and in spite of all Benvolio could say to moderate their wrath, a quarrel was beginning, when Romeo himself passing that way, the fierce Tybalt turned from Mercutio to Romeo, and gave him the disgraceful appellation of villain. Romeo wished to avoid a quarrel with Tybalt above all men, because he was the kinsman of Juliet, and much beloved by her ; besides, this young Montague had never thoroughly entered into the family quarrel, being by nature wise and gentle, and the name of a Capulet, which was his dear lady's name, was now rather a charm to allay resentment, than a watchword to excite fury. So he tried to reason with Tybalt, whom he saluted mildly by the name of good Capulet^ as if he, though a Montague, had some secret pleasure in uttering that name : but Tybalt, who hated all Montagues as he hated hell, would hear no reason, but drew his weapon ; and Mercutio, who knew not of Romeo's secret motive for desiring

34


peace with Tybalt, but looked upon his present forbearance as a sort of calm dishonourable submission, with many disdainful words provoked Tybalt to the prosecution of his first quarrel with him ; and Tybalt and Mercutio fought, till Mercutio fell, receiving his death-wound, while Romeo and Benvolio were vainly endeavouring to part the combatants. Mercutio being dead, Romeo kept his temper no longer, but returned the scornful appellation of villain which Tybalt had given him ; and they fought till Tybalt was slain by Romeo. This deadly broil falling out in the midst of Verona at noonday, the news of it quickly brought a crowd of citizens to the spot, and among them the old Lords Capulet and Montague, with their wives ; and soon after arrived the Prince himself, who being related to Mercutio, whom Tybalt had slain, and having had the peace of his government often disturbed by these brawls of Montagues and Capulets, came determined to put the law in strictest force against those who should be found to be offenders. Benvolio, who had been eye-witness to the fray, was commanded by the Prince to relate the

35


origin of it ; which he did, keeping as near the truth as he could without injury to Romeo, softening and excusing the part which his friends took in it. Lady Capulet, whose extreme grief for the loss of her kinsman Tybalt made her keep no bounds in her revenge, exhorted the Prince to do strict justice upon his murderer, and to pay no attention to Benvolio's representation, who being Romeo's friend, and a Montague, spoke partially. Thus she pleaded against her new son-in-law, but she knew not yet that he was her son-in-law and Juliet's husband. On the other hand was to be seen Lady Montague pleading for her child's life, and arguing with some justice that Romeo had done nothing worthy of punishment in taking the life of Tybalt, which was already forfeited to the law by his having slain Mercutio. The Prince, unmoved by the passionate exclamations of these women, on a careful examination of the facts, pronounced his sentence, and by that sentence Romeo was banished from Verona.

Here is the scene of Tybalt's death and Romeo's banishment :—

36


Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire :

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl, For now, these hot days, is the mad blood

stirring. Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows

that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says " God send me no need of thee ! " and by the operation of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed 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, an there were two such, we

should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast : thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes : what eye but such an eye would spy

37


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 riband ? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling !

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 ! Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Enter TYBALT and others.

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.

38


Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving ?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st 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 :

Either withdraw unto some private place, And reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart ; here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir : here comes my man.

Mer. But I'll be hang?d, sir, if he wear your livery ;

39


Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower ;

Your worship in that sense may call him " man."

Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford

No better term than this,—thou art a villain. Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to

love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting : villain am I none ; Therefore farewell ; I see thou know'st me not.

Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me ; therefore turn and

draw. Rom. I do protest, I never injured thee,

But love thee better than thou canst devise, Till thou shalt know the reason of my love : And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender As dearly as my own,—be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! [Draws.

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ? Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me ? Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one

of your nine lives ; that I mean to make bold 40


withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears ? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you. [Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [7hey fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio ; beat down their

weapons. Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage ! Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets : Hold, Tybalt ! good Mercutio !

[TYBALT under ROMEO'S arm stabs M E R

CUTIO, and files with his followers. Mer. I am hurt.

A plague o' both your houses ! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing ?

Ben. What, art thou hurt ? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry,

'tis enough. Where is my page. Go, villain, fetch a

surgeon. [Exit Page. Rom. Courage, man ; the hurt cannot be

much. 4 i


Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door ; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve : ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' both your houses ! 'Zounds, a dog, a 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,

Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses !

They have made worms' meat of me : I have it,

And soundly too : your houses ! [Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.

Rom. This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,

My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander,—Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my kinsman ! O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And in my temper softened valour's steel !

42


Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead !

That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth depend ;

This but begins the woe others must end. Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back

again. Rom. Alive, in triumph ! and Mercutio

slain ! Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now !

Re-enter TYBALT.

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, That late thou gavest me ; for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company : Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

43


Rom. This shall determine that. [They fight; TYBALT falls.

Ben. Romeo, away, be gone ! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed : the Prince will doom

thee death, If thou art taken : hence, be gone, away !

Rom. O, I am fortune's fool ! Ben. Why dost thou stay ?

[Exit ROMEO.

Enter Citizens.

First Cit. Which way ran he that kilFd Mercutio ?

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he ? Ben. There lies that Tybalt. First Cit. Up, sir, go with me;

I charge thee in the Prince's name, obey.

Enter PRINCE, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET,

their Wives, and others.

Prince. Where are the vile beginners of this fray ?

Ben. O noble Prince, I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl :

44


There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Lady Gap. Tybalt, my cousin ! O my brother's child !

O Prince ! O cousin ! husband ! O, the blood is spilt

Of my dear kinsman ! Prince, as thou art true,

For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin !

Prince. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray ?

Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay ;

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure : all this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly

bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand

beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends

45


It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity Retorts it : Romeo he cries aloud, " Hold, friends ! friends, part ! " and, swifter

than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rushes ; underneath whose

arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled ; But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to't they go like lightning, for, ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt

slain, And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Lady Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague ;

Affection makes him false ; he speaks not true :

Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must

give ; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

46


Prince. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio ; Who now the price of his dear blood doth

owe ? Mon. Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mer-

cutio's friend ;* His fault concludes but what the law should

end, The life of Tybalt.

Prince. And for that offence Immediately we do exile him hence : I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-

bleeding ; But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine That you shall all repent the loss of mine : I will be deaf to pleading and excuses ; Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out

abuses : Therefore use none : let Romeo hence in

haste, Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Bear hence this body and attend our will : Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Heavy news to young Juliet, who had been but a few hours a bride, and now by

47


this decree seemed everlastingly divorced ! When the tidings reached her, she at first gave way to rage against Romeo, who had slain her dear cousin ; she called him a beautiful tyrant, a fiend angelical, a ravenous dove, a lamb with a wolf's nature, a serpent-heart hid with a flowering face, and other like contradictory names, which denoted the struggles in her mind between her love and her resentment : but in the end love got the mastery, and the tears which she shed for grief that Romeo had slain her cousin, turned to drops of joy that her husband lived whom Tybalt would have slain. Then came fresh tears, and they were altogether of grief for Romeo's banishment. That word was more terrible to her than the death of many Tybalts:—

"Tybal t is dead, and Romeo—banished ; " That "banished," that one word "banished," Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's

death Was woe enough, if it had ended there : Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship And needly will be ranked with other griefs,

48


Why follow'd not, when she said "Tybalt 's dead,"

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentation might have

moved ? But writh a rearward following Tybalt's death, " Romeo is banished," to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead. " Romeo is banished ! " There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death ; no words can that woe

sound.

49 D

he was first made acquainted with the Prince's sentence, which seemed to him far more terrible than death. To him it appeared there was no world out of Verona's walls, no living out of the sight of Juliet. Heaven was there where Juliet lived, and all beyond was purgatory, torture, hell. The good Friar would have applied the consolation of philosophy to his griefs ; but this frantic young man would hear of none, but like a madman he tore his hair, and threw himself all along upon the ground, as he said, to take the measure of his grave. From this unseemly state he was roused by a message from his dear lady, which a little revived him ; and then the Friar took advantage to reason with him on the unmanly weakness which he had shown. He had slain Tybalt, but would he also slay himself, slay his dear

5o


lady who lived but in his life ? The noble form of man, he said, was but a shape of wax, when it wanted the courage which should keep it firm. The law had been lenient to him, that instead of death, which he had incurred, had pronounced by the Prince's mouth only banishment. He had slain Tybalt, but Tybalt would have slain him : there was a sort of happiness in that. Juliet was alive, and (beyond all hope) had become his dear wife ; therein he was most happy. All these blessings, as the Friar made them out to be, did'Romeo put from him like a sullen misbehaved wench. And the Friar bade him beware, for such as despaired (he said) died miserable. Then when Romeo was a little calmed, he counselled him that he should go that night and secretly take his leave of Juliet, and thence proceed straightway to Mantua, at which place he should sojourn, till the Friar found a fit occasion to publish his marriage, which might be a joyful means of reconciling their families ; and then he did not doubt but the Prince would be moved to pardon him, and he would return with twenty times more joy than he went

51


forth with grief. Romeo was convinced by these wise counsels of the Friar, and took his leave to go and seek his lady, purposing to stay with her that night, and by daybreak pursue his journey alone to Mantua ; to which place the good Friar promised to send him letters from time to time, acquainting him with the state of affairs at home.

That night Romeo passed with his dear wife, gaining secret admission to her chamber from the orchard in which he had heard her confession of love the night before. That had been a night of unmixed joy and rapture ; but the pleasures of this night, and the delight which these lovers took in each other's society, were sadly marred by the prospect of parting, and the fatal adventures of the past day. The unwelcome daybreak seemed to come too soon, and when Juliet heard the morning song of the lark, she would gladly have persuaded herself that it was the nightingale, which sings by night ; but it was too truly the lark which sung, and a discordant and unpleasing note it seemed to her ; and the streaks of day in the east too certainly pointed out that it was time for these lovers to part. Romeo

52

THE PARTING


took his leave of his dear wife with a heavy heart, promising to write to her from Mantua every hour in the day ; and when he had descended from her chamber-window, as he stood below her on the ground, in that sad foreboding state of mind in which she was, he appeared to her eyes as one dead in the bottom of a tomb. Romeo's mind misgave him in like manner ; but now he was forced hastily to depart, for it was death for him to be found within the walls of Verona after daybreak.

Listen to the parting of the lovers—the sweetness and the sadness of it all.

ROMEO and JULIET at the window.

Jul. Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day :

It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks

54


Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I :

It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua : Therefore stay yet ; thou need'st not to be

gone. Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to

death ; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow ; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads : I have more care to stay than will to go : Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul ? let's talk ; it is not day.

Jul. It is, it is : hie hence, be gone, away !

It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division ;

55


This doth not so, for she divideth us : Some say the lark and loathed toad change

eyes ; O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the

day. O, now be gone : more light and light it

grows. Rom. More light and light ; more dark

and dark our woes !

Enter Nurse, to the chamber.

Nurse. Madam ! Jul. Nurse? Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to

your chamber : The day is broke; be wary, look about. [Exit.

Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. [He goeth down.

Jul. Art thou gone so ? love, lord, ay, husband, friend !

I must hear from thee every day in the hour, For in a minute there are many days :

56


O, by this count I shall be much in years Ere I again behold my Romeo !

Rom. Farewell ! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul. O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again ?

Rom. I doubt it not ; and all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourses in our time to come. Jul. O God, I have an ill-divining soul !

Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb : Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you :

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu !

57

j \ Capulet proposed a match for Juliet. The husband he had

chosen for her, not dreaming that she was married already, was Count Paris, a gallant, young, and noble gentleman, no unworthy suitor to the young Juliet, if she had never seen Romeo.

The terrified Juliet was in a sad perplexity at her father's offer. She pleaded her youth unsuitable to marriage, the recent death of Tybalt, wrhich had left her spirits too weak to meet a husband with any face of joy, and how indecorous it would show for the family of the Capulets to be celebrating a nuptial-feast, when his funeral solemnities were hardly over: she pleaded every reason against the match,

58

JULIET AND HER FATHER


but the true one, namely, that she was married already. But Lord Capulet was deaf to all her excuses, and in a peremptory manner ordered her to get ready, for by the following Thursday she should be married to Paris : and having found her a husband rich, young, and noble, such as the proudest maid in Verona might joyfully accept, he could not bear that out of a pretended coyness, as he thought it, she should oppose obstacles to her own good fortune. •

In this difficulty Juliet applied to the friendly Friar, always her counsellor in distress, and he asking her if she had resolution to undertake a desperate remedy, and she answering that she would go into the grave alive rather than marry Paris, her own dear husband living ; he directed her to go home, and appear merry, and give her consent to marry Paris, according to her father's desire, and on the next night, which was the night before the marriage, to drink off the contents of a phial which he then gave her, the effect of which would be, that for two-and-forty hours after drinking it she should appear cold and lifeless ; that when the bridegroom came to fetch her in the morning he would find her

60


to all appearance dead ; that then she would be borne, as the manner in that country was, uncovered, on a bier, to be buried in the family vault ; that if she could put off womanish fear, and consent to this terrible trial, in forty-two hours after swallowing the liquid (such was its certain operation) she would be sure to awake, as from a dream ; and before she should awake he would let her husband know their drift, and he should come in the night and bear her thence to Mantua. Love, and the dread of marrying Paris, gave young Juliet strength to undertake this horrible adventure ; and she took the phial of the Friar, promising to observe his directions.

Going from the monastery she met the young Count Paris, and, modestly dissembling, promised to become his bride. This was joyful news to the Lord Capulet and his wife. It seemed to put youth into the old man; and Juliet, who had displeased him exceedingly by her refusal of the Count, was his darling again, now she promised to be obedient. All things in the house were in a bustle against the approaching nuptials. No cost was spared

61


to prepare such festival rejoicings as Verona had never before witnessed.

On the Wednesday night Juliet drank off the potion. She had many misgivings lest the Friar, to avoid the blame which might be imputed to him for marrying her to Romeo, had given her poison, but then he was always known for a holy man : then, lest she should awake before the time that Romeo was to come for her, whether the terror of the place, a vault full of dead Capulets' bones, and where Tybalt lay, all bloody, would not be enough to drive her distracted : again she thought of all the stories she had heard of spirits haunting the places where their bodies were bestowed. But then her love for Romeo, and her aversion for Paris, returned, and she desperately swallowed the draught, and became insensible.

O, look ! methinks I see my cousin's ghost Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body Upon a rapier's point : stay, Tybalt, stay ! Romeo, I come ! this do I drink to thee.

When young Paris came early in the morning with music to awaken his bride,

62


instead of a living Juliet, he found a lifeless corpse.

What death to his hopes! What confusion then reigned through the whole house ! Poor Paris lamenting his bride, whom most detestable death had beguiled him of, had divorced from him even before their hands were joined. But still more piteous it was to hear the mournings of the old Lord and Lady Capulet, who having but this one, one poor loving child to rejoice and delight in, cruel death had snatched her from their sight, just as these careful parents were on the point of seeing her advanced (as they thought) by a promising and happy marriage. Now all things that were ordained for the festival were turned from their purpose to do the office of a black funeral. The wedding cheer served for a sad burial feast, the bridal hymns were changed to sullen dirges, the sprightly instruments to melancholy bells, and the flowers that should have been strewed in the bride's path, now served but to strew her corpse. Now, instead of a priest to marry her, a priest was needed to bury her ; and she was borne to church indeed, not to augment the cheerful

63


hopes of the living, but to swell the dreary numbers of the dead :—

All things that we ordained festival, Turn from their office to black funeral ; Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, And all things change them to the contrary.

64

the dismal story of his Juliet's death to Romeo at Mantua, before the messenger could arrive who was sent from Friar Laurence to tell him that these were mock funerals only, and but the shadow and representation of death, and that his dear lady lay in the tomb but for a short while, expecting Romeo to come to release her from that dreary mansion. Just before, Romeo had been unusually joyful and light-hearted :—-

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne ; And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit

65 E


Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

I dreamt my lady came and found me dead— Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to

think !— And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, That I revived, and was an emperor. Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possess'd, When but love's shadows are so rich in joy !

Now that a messenger came from Verona, he thought surely it was to confirm some good news which his dreams had presaged. But when the contrary to this flattering vision appeared, and that it was his lady who was dead in truth, whom he could not revive by any kisses, he ordered horses to be got ready, for he determined that night to visit Verona, and to see his lady in her tomb.

Rom. News from Verona !—How now, Balthasar !

Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar? How doth my lady ? Is my father well ? How fares my Juliet ? that I ask again ; For nothing can be ill, if she be well.


Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be i l l :

Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, And her immortal part with angels lives. I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, And presently took post to tell it you : O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! Thou know'st my lodging : get me ink and

paper, And hire post-horses ; I will hence to-night.

Bal. I do beseech you, sir, have patience : Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure,

Rom. Tush, thou art deceived : Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Hast thou no letters to me from the Friar ?

Bal. No, my good lord. Rom. No matter : get thee gone,

And hire those horses ; I'll be with thee straight.

As mischief is swift to enter into the thoughts of desperate men, he called to mind a poor apothecary, whose shop in Mantua

67


he had lately passed, and from the beggarly appearance of the man, who seemed famished, and the wretched show in his shop of empty

boxes ranged on dirty shelves, and other tokens of extreme wretchedness, he had said at the time (perhaps having some misgivings that his own disastrous life might haply meet with a conclusion so desperate), " If a man were to need poison, which by the law of Mantua it is death to sell, here lives a poor wretch who would sell it him." These words of his now came into his mind, and he sought out the apothecary, who after some pretended scruples, Romeo offering him gold, which his poverty could

not resist, sold him a poison, which, if he swallowed, he told him, if he had the strength of twenty men, would quickly despatch him.

68

THE APOTHECARY


With this poison he set out for Verona, to have a sight of his dear lady in her tomb, meaning, when he had satisfied his sight, to swallow the poison, and be buried by her side. He reached Verona at midnight, and found the churchyard, in the midst of which was situated the ancient tomb of the Capulets, He had provided a light, and a spade, and wrenching iron, and was proceeding to break open the monument, when he was interrupted by a voice, which, by the name of vile Montague, bade him desist from his unlawful business. It was the young Count Paris, who had come to the tomb of Juliet at that unseasonable time of night, to strew flowers, and to weep over the grave of her that should have been his bride :—

Sweet flower, with flowers thy ^bridal bed I strew,—

O woe I thy canopy is dust and stones ;— Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,

Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans :

The obsequies that I for thee will keep Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.

69


Paris knew not what an interest Romeo had in the dead, but knowing him to be a Montague, and (as he supposed) a sworn foe to all the Capulets, he judged that he was come by night to do some villainous shame to the dead bodies ; therefore in an angry tone he bade him desist ; and as a criminal, condemned by the laws of Verona to die if he were found within the walls of the city, he would have apprehended him. Romeo urged Paris to leave him, and warned him by the fate of Tybalt, who lay buried there, not to provoke his anger, or draw down another sin upon his head, by forcing him to kill him. But the Count in scorn refused his warning, and laid hands on him as a felon, which Romeo resisting, they fought, and Paris fell.

Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,

That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,

It is supposed, the fair creature died ; And here is come to do some villainous shame To the dead bodies : I will apprehend him.

[ Comes forward. 70


Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague ! Can vengeance be pursued further than death ? Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee : Obey, and go with me ; for thou must die.

Rom. I must indeed ; and therefore came I hither.

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man ;

Fly hence, and leave me : think upon these gone ; ^

Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, Put not another sin upon my head, By urging me to fury : O, be gone ! By heaven, I love thee better than myself; For I come hither arm'd against myself : Stay not, be gone ; live, and hereafter say, A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

Par. I do defy thy conjurations, And apprehend thee for a felon here.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me ? then have at thee, boy ! [They fight.

Page. O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. [Exit.

Par. O, I am slain ! [Falls.'] If thou be merciful,

Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies. 7i


Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.

Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris ! What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as we rode ? I think He told me Paris should have married Juliet : Said he not so ? or did I dream it so ? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so ? O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book ! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave ; A grave ? O, no ! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

[Laying PARIS in the tomb. How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry ! which their keepers

call A lightning before death : O, how may I Call this a lightning ? O my love ! my wife ! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy

breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : Thou art not conquer'd ; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,

72


And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet ? O, what more favour can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in

twain To sunder his that was thine enemy ? Forgive me, cousin ! Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair ? . . . O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look

your last ! Arms, take your last embrace ! and, lips, O

you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death ! Here's to my love ! [Drinks.1 O true apothe

cary ! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I

die. [Dies.

The poison which the apothecary had sold him, whose operation was fatal and real, was not like that dissembling potion which Juliet had swallowed, the effect of which was now nearly expiring, and she about to awake to

73


complain that Romeo had not kept his time, or that he had come too soon.

For now the hour was arrived at which the Friar had promised that she should awake ; and he, having learned that his letters which he had sent to Mantua, by some unlucky detention of the messenger, had never reached Romeo, came himself, provided with a pickaxe and lantern, to deliver the lady from her confinement ; but he was surprised to find a light already burning in the Capulets' monument, and to see swords and blood near jt, and Romeo and Paris lying breathless by the monument.

Before he could bring his mind even to imagine how these fatal accidents had fallen out, Juliet awoke out of her trance, and seeing the Friar near her, she remembered the place where she was, and the occasion of her being there, and asked for Romeo : but the Friar, hearing a noise, bade her come out of that place of death, and of unnatural sleep, for a greater power than they could resist had thwarted their intents ; and being frightened by the noise of people coming, he fled : but when Juliet saw the cup closed in her true

74


love's hands, she guessed that poison had been the cause of his end, and she would have swallowed the dregs if any had been left, and she kissed his still warm lips to try if any poison yet did hang upon them; then hearing a nearer noise of people coming, she quickly unsheathed a dagger which he wore, and stabbing herself, died by her true Romeo's side:—

O happy dagger! This is thy sheath ; there rust, and let me die.

75

master and Romeo, had given the alarm, which had spread among the citizens, who went up and down the streets of Verona confusedly, exclaiming, A Paris ! A Romeo ! A Juliet ! as the rumour had imperfectly reached them, till the uproar brought Lord Montague and Lord Capulet out of their beds, with the Prince, to inquire into the causes of the disturbance. The Friar had been apprehended by some of the watch, coming from the churchyard, trembling, sighing, and weeping, in a suspicious manner. A great multitude being assembled at the Capulets' monument, the Friar was demanded by the

76


Prince to state what he knew of these strange and disastrous accidents.

And there, in the presence of the old Lords

THE RECONCILIATION

Montague and Capulet, he faithfully related the story of their children's fatal love.

And the Prince, turning to these old Lords Montague and Capulet, rebuked them for their brutal and irrational enmities, and showed

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them what a scourge Heaven had laid upon such offences, that it had found means even through the love of their children to punish their unnatural hate. And these old rivals, no longer enemies, agreed to bury their long strife in their children's graves. So did these poor old lords, when it was too late, strive to outvie each other in mutual courtesies ; while so deadly had been their rage and enmity in past times, that nothing but the fearful overthrow of their children (poor sacrifices to their quarrels and dissensions) could remove the rooted hates and jealousies of the noble families.

PRINCE and Attendants, MONTAGUE, CAPULET,

LADY CAPULET, FRIAR LAURENCE and others.

Prince [to Fri. L.]. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.

Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of breath

Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that

Juliet ; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful

wife : 78


I married them ; and their stol'n marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely

death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this

city, For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. You, to remove that siege of grief from her, Betroth'd and would have married her per

force To County Paris : then comes she to me, And, with wild looks, bid me devise some

mean To rid her from this second marriage, Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion ; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death ; meantime I writ to

Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, Being the time the potion's force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight Return'd my letter back. Then all alone At the prefixed hour of her waking,

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Came I to take her from her kindred's vault ; Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo : But when I came, some minute ere the time Of her awaking, here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. She wakes ; and I entreated her come forth, And bear this work of heaven with patience : But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; And she, too desperate, would not go with

me, But, as it seems, did violence on herself. All this I know ; and to the marriage Her nurse is privy : and, if aught in this Miscarried by my fault, let my old life Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, Unto the rigour of severest law.

Prince. Where be these enemies ? Capu-let ! Montague !

See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with

love. And I for winking at your discords too Have lost a brace of kinsmen : all are

punish'd. 80


Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand :

This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand.

Mon. But I can give thee more : For I will raise her statue in pure gold ; That while Verona by that name is known, There shall no figure at such rate be set As that of true and faithful Juliet.

Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie ;

Poor sacrifices of our enmity ! Prince. A glooming peace this morning

with it brings ; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head : Go hence, to have more talk of these sad

things ; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished :

For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

81 F

CAPVLET "" MONTAGVE J5EE*WHATA-*>C0VRGE-1S-LA1D VPQNYQVR°HATE*THAT°HEAVEN FINDS-MEANS TO-KILL-YOVR JOY5 •"WITH'LOVE •

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ROMEO & JULIET - University Of Illinois · ROMEO AND JULIET he was so much struck with, was young Juliet, daughter and heir to the Lord Capulet, the great enemy of the Montagues ;