Jul. That may be, sir, when I
may be a wife.
Par. That may be, must be, love, on Thurs-
Jul. What must be, shall be.
Fri. That's a certain text.
Par. Come you to make confession to this fa-
Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you.
Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me.
Jul. I will confess to you, that I love him.
Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love me.
Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with
Jul. The tears have got small victory by that; For it was bad enough, before their spite.
Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.
That cop'st with death himself to 'scape from it:
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.
Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or hide me nightly in a charnel house,
O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless sculls;
10 Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud,
Things that, to hear them told, have made me
tremble;
And I will do it without fear or doubt, 15 To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. Fri. Hold, then; go home; be merry, give
Jul. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd 20
Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own.-
Are
you at leisure, holy father, now;
Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
Fri. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter,
My lord, we must intreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion!Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you: 'Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss.
To
marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow;
To-morrow night look that thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou this phial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off:
When, presently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize
25 Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep
[Exit Paris. 30
Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast
done so,
[help!
Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure, past
Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits:
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
Do thou but call my resolution wise,
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
"Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry county Paris,
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself;
Then is it likely, thou wilt undertake
A thing like death to chide away this shame,
1 Commission for authority or power. hinder the performance.
His natural progress, but surcease to beat :
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st;
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,
Shall stiff, and stark, and cold appear like death:
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt remain full two-and-forty hours,
35 And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then (as the manner of our country is)
In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier,
40 Thou shalt be borne to the same ancient vault,
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;
And hither shall he come; and he and I
45 Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame;
If no unconstant toy 2, nor womanish fear,
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
Jul. Give me, O give me! tell me not of fear.
Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and pro-
60 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servants. Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.— Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
If no fickle freak, no light caprice, no change of fancy,
Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin. if they can lick their fingers.
Cap. How canst thou try them so? Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he, that cannot 5 lick his fingers, goes not with me.
La. Cap. What, are you busy? do you need my help?
Jul. No, inadain; we have cull'd such necessa-
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
So please you, let me now be left alone,
And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
her: 10 In this so sudden business.
Cap. Go, begone.---
[Exit Servant.
We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.-
What, is my daughter gone to friar Lawrence?
Nurse. Ay, forsooth.
Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Enter Juliet.'
Nurse. See, where she comes from shrift with
[been gadding: 15
Cap. How now, my head-strong? where have you
Jul. Where I have learnt me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon :-Pardon, I beseech you!)
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.
Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
[Exeunt Lady, and Nurse.
Jul. Farewell!God knows, when we shall
meet again.
have a faint coid fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me;-
Nurse!-What should she do here?
20 My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, phial.-
Cap. Send for the county; go, tell him of this;
I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
Jul. I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell; 25|
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty. [up:
Cap. Why, I am glad on't; this is well, stand
This is as 't should be.-Let me see the county;
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.-
Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much bound to him.
Jul. Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
La. Cap. No, not 'till Thursday; there is time
enough.
Cap. Go, nurse, go with her :-we'll to church
to-morrow. [Exeunt Juliet, and Nurse.
La. Cap. We shall be short in our provision;
'Tis now near night.
Cap. Tush! I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Shall I of force be married to the count?-
No, no;-this shall forbid it :-lie thou there.—
[Laying down a dagger2.
What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead;
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
30I fear, it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man :
I will not entertain so bad a thought.-
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
40 The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,-
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth3,
Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;-
Alack, alack! is it not like, that I,
I'll not to bed to-night;-let me alone: [ho!-45
I'll play the housewife for this once.-What,
They are all forth: Well, I will walk myself
To county Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
[Exeunt Capulet, and Lady Capulet.
SCENE III.
Juliet's Chamber.
Enter Juliet, and Nurse.
Jul. Ay, those attires are best:-But, gentle
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
So early waking,-what with loathsome smells;
50 And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-
O! if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
55 And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
60lUpon a rapier's point:-Stay, Tybalt, stay!-
1 i. e. from confession. 2 This stage-direction has been supplied by the modern editors. The quarto, 1597, reads: "Knife, lie thou there."-It appears from several passages in our old plays, that Knives were formerly part of the accoutrements of a bride, i. e. tresh in earth, newly buried. ↑ To jester is to corrupt. : Distraught is distracted.
(Marry, and amen!) how sound is she asleep!
I must needs wake her :-Madam ! madam! ma
Ay, let the county take you in your bed; [dam
He'll fright you up, i' faith.Will it not be
5 What,drest! and in your clothes! and down again!
I must needs wake you:-Lady! lady! lady!
Alas! alas!-Help! help! my lady's dead!-
O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!-
But I will watch you from such watching now.
[Exeunt Lady Capulet, and Nurse. 25
Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!-Now,
fellow,
Enter three or four, with spits, and logs,and baskets.
Serv. Things for the cook, sir; but I know 30
not what.
[drier logs!
Cap. Make haste, make haste. Sirrah, fetch
Call Peter, he will shew thee where they are.
Serv. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit. 35
Cap.'Mass,and well said; Amerry whoreson! ha,
Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith, 'tis day:
The county will be here with musick straight,
[Musick within.
For so he said he would. I hear him near:-
Nurse!--Wife!-what, ho!-what, Nurse, I say!
Enter Nurse.
Some aqua-vitæ, ho!-My lord!-my lady!
Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. What noise is here?
Nurse. O lamentable day!
La. Cap. What's the matter?
Nurse. Look, look! O heavy day!
La. Cap. O me, O me!-my child, my only life!
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!-
Help, help!-call help.
Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord
[the day!
Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack
La. Cap. Alack the day! she's dead, she's
dead, she 's dead.
[cold;
Cap. Ha! let me see her:-Out, alas! she's
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff";
Life and these lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man!
Nurse. O lamentable day!
La. Cap. O woeful time!
Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Enter Friar Lawrence, and Paris,with Musicians,
Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return:-
O son, the night before thy wedding-day [lies,
Hath death lain with thy bride:-See, there she
40 Flower as she was, deflowered now by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded! I will die,
And leave him all: life leaving, all is death's.
Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's
face,
Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris:-Hie, make haste,
Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already:45]
Make haste, I say!
Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
The county Paris hath set up his rest',
And doth it give me such a sight as this?
La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful
Most miserable hour, that time e'er saw [day!
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
50 But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
Nurse. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
Most lamentable day! most woeful day,
55 That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woeful day, O woeful day!
Par.Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! That you shall rest but little.- -God forgive me,|60|Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
This expression, which is frequently employed by the old dramatic writers, Mr. Steevens says, is taken from the manner of firing the harquebuss: This was so heavy a gun, that the soldiers were obliged to carry a supporter called a rest, which they fixed in the ground before they levelled to take aim.
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By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown !-
O love! O life!--not life, but love in death!
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated,martyr'd,kill'd!--
Uncomfortable time! why cam'st thou now
To murder murder our solemnity?-
O child! O child!---my soul, and not my child!---
Dead art thou !- -alack! my child is dead;
And, with my child, my joys are buried!
Fri. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure
lives not
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid:
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was---her promotion;
For 'twas your heaven, she should be advanc'd:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well married, that lives marry'd long;
But she's best marry'd, that dies marry'd young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church:
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
Cap. 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 bury'd corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Fri. Sir, go you in,--and, madam, go with him;--
And go, sir Paris;-every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
The heavens do lour upon you, for some ill;
Move them no more, by crossing their high will.
[Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.
Mus. 'Faith we may put up our pipes, and be
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Pet. Musicians, O, musicians, Heart's ease,
O, an you will have me live, play-heart's ease.
Mus. Why heart's case?
Pet.O, musicians, because my heart itself plays--
My heart is full of woe: O, play me some merry
dump, to comfort me.
[now.
Mus. Not a dump' we; 'tis no time to play
Pet. You will not then?
Pet. I will then give it you soundly.
Mus. What will you give us?
Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek 1:
will give you the minstrel.
Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature. Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets; PIL. re you, I'll fa you; Do you note me?
Mus. An you re us, and fà us, you note us.
2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my. iron dagger: -Answer me like men:
When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then musick, with her silver sound,
Why silver sound? why musick with her silver
30 What say you, Simon Catling??
1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck *? 2 Mus. I say silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.
Pet. Pretty too!-What say you, James Soundpost?
3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say.
Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I will say for you. It is-musick with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have no gold for sounding:
Then musick with her silver sound,
With speedy help doth lend redress.
[Exit, singing.
1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same?
2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here;
tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt.
SCENE
MANTU A.
A Street.
Enter Romeo.
Rom. IF I may trust the flattering truth of
sleep',
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord sits lightly on his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
55 Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts."
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;
(Strange dream! thatgivesadeadmanleave to think)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
1 A dump anciently signified some kind of dance, as well as sorrow: On this occasion it means a mournful song. To gleek is to scoff. 3A catling was a small lutestring made of catgut. The fiddler is so called from an instrument with three strings, mentioned by several of the old writers, Rebec, rebecquin. The sense is, If I may only trust the honesty of sleep, which I know however not to be so nice as not often to practise flattery.-The oldest copy reads-the flattering eye of sleep. 3 S
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possest,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy?
Enter Balthasar.
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.
Balth. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Her body sleeps in Capulet'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.
Balth. Pardon me, sir, I dare not leave you thus: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.
Rom. Tush, thou art deceiv'd;
Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do:
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Balth. No, my good lord.
Rom. No matter; get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. [Exit Balthasar.
Is death, to any he that utters them.
Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
5 Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Apo. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apo. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's
souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. [seil:
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
20 Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's
grave, for there must I use thee.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means:-O, mischief! thou art swift 30
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-
And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;|
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!
SCENE II.
Friar Lawrence's Cell.
Enter Friar John.
John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter Friar Lawrence.
Law. This same should be the voice of friar John.-
Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
35 Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd
Law. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it,-here it is again,—
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.
Law. Unhappy fortune! By my brotherhood, The letter was not nice, but full of charge 45 Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
Unto my cell.
John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. [Exit
Luw. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within these three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents:
But I will write again to Mantua,
Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art 55 And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath 60
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. [law
Apo. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
i. e. was not written on a trivial or foolish subject.
|
