1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans ! strike! beat them down! [tagues! Down with the Capulets! down with the MonEnter 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? [come, Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. [a foe. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek Enter Prince, with Attendants.

Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,Will they not hear?-what ho! you men, you beasts,

That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your 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,
To wield old partizans,‡ in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd 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:
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 judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt Prince and Attend.; CAP., La.
CAP., TYB., Cit., and Serv.

Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began ?

Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them; in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears, 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. [sun
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where,-underneath the grove of sycamore,
That westward rooteth from the city's side,-
So early walking did I see your son:
Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
And stole into the covert of the wood:

Clubs! was the usual exclamation at an affray in the streets, as we now call Watch!

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
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun [sighs:
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 daylight out,
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him.
Ben. Have you importuned him by any means?
Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends:
But he, his own affection's 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 sun. [grow,
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows
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 denied.
Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To hear true shrift.-Come, madam, let's away.
[Exeunt MoN. and LADY MON.
Ben. Good morrow, cousin.
Rom.
Is the day so young?
Ben. But new struck nine.
Rom.

Ah me! sad hours seem long.

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.

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,

[Going.

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.
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.
Groan? why, no;
[will:
Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his
Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!-
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. [lov'd.
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you
Rom. A right good marksman!-And she's
fair I love.

But sadly tell me, who.

Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she 'll not be With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; [hit And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.

live chaste?

She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
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
[waste;
Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge
For beauty, starv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,'
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. 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, Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair; He, that is strucken blind, cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read, who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell; thou canst not teach me to forget. Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt.

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;

Account, estimation.

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.
[made.
Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early
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,
One more, most welcome,makes my number more.
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-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night
Inherit + at my house; here all, all see,
And like her most, whose merit 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, [ Gives a Paper.]
and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

[Exeunt CAP. and PAR.

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.

Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO.

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

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning ; One desperate grief cures with another's

languish :

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? [is :
Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good
fellow.

Serv. Good e'en, sir.-I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Serv. Perhaps you have learned 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. Reads.

County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The "Signior Martino, and his wife and daughters; lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and Signior Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, daughters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia;

and the lively Helena."

ther should they come?

2 D

Serv. Up.

Rom. Whither?

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

[fore. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked 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 crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry.

[Exit.

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 unattainted eye, 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 Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! [die,One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match, since first the world begun. Ben. Tut! you saw her fair, none else being by, 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 show you, shining at this feast, [best. And she shall scant show well that now shows Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.

[Exeunt. SCENE III.-A Room in CAPULET's House. Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse. La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. [Juliet! Nurse. What, lamb! what, lady-bird! what,

Jul. How now,

Nurse.

Jul.

Enter JULIET.

who calls?

Your mother. Madam, I am here. What is your will? [leave a while, La. Cap. This is the matter :-Nurse, give We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; [sel. I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counThou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty age. Nurse. Yes, I can tell her age unto an hour. La. Cap. She's not fourteen.

Nurse. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, [four,And yet, to my teen? be it spoken, I have but She is not fourteen: How long is it now To Lammas-tide?

La. Cap. A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen. Susan and she were of an age, but Susan's dead She was too good for me: But, as I said, On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen, That shall she, marry; I remember it well, 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd,-I never shall forget it,Of all the days of the year, upon that day: For I had then laid wormwood to my teat, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, My lord and you were then at Mantua :Nay, I do bear a brain :|| but, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple,

* We still say in cant language-crack a bottle. + Weighed.

Scarcely, hardly.

To my sorrow.

i. e. I have a perfect remembrance or recollection. The cross.

And felt it bitter, O the pretty fool!
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the teat.
Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I
To bid me trudge.
[trow,
And since that time it is eleven years: [rood,
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the
She could have run and waddled all about,
For even the day before, she broke her brow.
La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hoid
thy peace.
[say I.
Jul. And hold thy peace, I pray thee, nurse,
Nurse. Peace, I have done. Heaven mark thee
to its grace!

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd:
An I might live to see thee married once,
I have my wish.

La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married?

Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Nurse. An honour! were not I thine only nurse, I'd say, thou hadst suck'd wisdom from the teat. La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now; younger Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, [than you, Are made already mothers: by my count, I was your mother much upon these years That you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief;— The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax.** La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse. Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower. [tleman? La. Cap. What say you? can you love the genThis night you shall behold him at our feast: Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content; And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, Find written in the margin of his eyes.++ This precious book of love, this unbound lover, To beautify him, only lacks a cover : The fish lives in the sea; ‡‡ and 'tis much pride, For fair without the fair within to hide : That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; So shall you share all that he doth possess, By having him, making yourself no less. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye, Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. Enter a Servant.

Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Street. Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-Bearers, and Others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our Or shall we on without apology? [excuse!

** Well-made, as if he had been modelled in

wax.

++ The comments on ancient books were always printed in the margin.

tti.e. Is not yet caught, whose skin was wanted to bind him.

Ben. The date is out of such prolixity:
We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;*
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance:

But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a measure,+ and be gone.
Rom. Give me a torch,+-I am not for this
ambling;

Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

[dance.

Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing
shoes,

With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead,
So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move.
Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with them above a common bound.
Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers; and so bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

Give me a case to put my visage in :

[Putting on a Mask. A visor for a visor!-what care I, What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs.

Rom. A torch for me: let wantons, light of
heart,

Tickle the senseless rushes || with their heels;
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,-
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on,-
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own
word:

If thou art dun, we 'll draw thee from the mire
Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st
Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light, ho.
Rom. Nay, that's not so.
Mer.
I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits
Five times in that, ere once in our five wits.
Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask;
But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer.
Why, may one ask?
Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
Mer.

And so did I.
Rom. Well, what was yours?
Mer.
That dreamers often lie.
Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things
true.
[with you.
Mer. O, then, I see, Queen Mab hath been
She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies ¶
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's wat❜ry beams:

* A scare-crow, a figure made up to frighten

Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel, or oid grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state she gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of
love :
[straight:

On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees:
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweet-meats tainted

are.

Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit :**
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Then dreams he of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear; at which he starts, and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab.
This, this is she

Rom.

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace. Thou talk'st of nothing. Mer. True, I talk of dreams; Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; Which is as thin of substance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. Ben. This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;

Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Rom. I fear, too early: for my mind misgives, Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels; and expire the term Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, By some vile forfeit of untimely death: But He, that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail!-On, gentlemen. Ben. Strike, drum.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-A Hall in CAPULET's House.
Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.

1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!

2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard,++ look to the plate :-good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; ‡‡ and as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan, and Nell. -Antony! and Potpan!

2 Serv. Ay, boy; ready.

1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.

It was anciently the custom to strew rooms with rushes..

Atoms.

** A place in court.

++ A sideboard on which the plate was placed. Almond-cake.