PROLOGUE. Two households, both alike in dignity, A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife. move, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the 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. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.2 Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Enter Abram and Balthazar. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Sam. Fear me not. Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. 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 Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-bear it. to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to (1) A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearing injuries. VOL. JI. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? (2) Poor John is hake, dried and salted. $88 Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay? Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir. Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? sir. Abr. Quarrel, sir? nisam for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sam. Well, sir. Enter Benvolio, at a distance. For this time, all the rest depart away: [Exe. Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my mas- I drew to part them; in the instant came ter's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, sir. Abr. You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do. [Beats down their swords. Enter Tybalt. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these less hinds? The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; La. Mon. O, where is Romeo?-saw you him heart-Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. I hate As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Enter Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword, ho! 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 me. Enter Montague and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Enter Prince, with Attendants. (1) Clubs! was the usual exclamation at an affray in the streets, as we now call Watch! Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Enter Romeo, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. (2) Angry. (3) Appeared. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which having, makes them short. 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 pathways to his will! Where shall we dine?-O me!-What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:- 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; 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 lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz. [Going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; And 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. But sadly tell me, who. Groan? why, no; Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, 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 marksman! And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, (1) In seriousness. (2) i. e. What end does it answer. (3) Account, estimation. SCENE II-A street. 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; And 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, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house, look to behold this night My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned:-In good time. (4) To inherit, in the language of Shakspeare, is to possess. (5) Estimation. |