Romeo and Juliet (15 page)

Romeo.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
Thou talk’st of nothing.

Mercutio.
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 angered, puffs away from thence,
Turning his side to the dew-dropping South.

Benvolio.
This wind you talk of blows us from our-
selves.
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Romeo.
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 despisèd life, closed in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.°
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen!

Benvolio.
Strike, drum.

They march about the stage, and
[
retire to one side
].

First Servingman.
Where’s Potpan, that he helps not
to take away? He shift a trencher!° He scrape a
trencher!

Second Servingman.
When good manners shall lie all
in one or two men’s hands, and they unwashed too,
’tis a foul thing.

First Servingman.
Away with the join-stools,° remove
the court cupboard,° look to the plate. Good thou,
save me a piece of marchpane,° and, as thou loves
me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
Anthony, and Potpan!

Second Servingman.
Ay, boy, ready.

First Servingman.
You are looked for and called for,
asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

Third Servingman.
We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver
take all.
Exeunt.

Enter
[
Capulet, his Wife, Juliet, Tybalt, Nurse, and
]
all the Guests and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.

Capulet.
Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their
toes
Unplagued with corns will walk a bout° with you.
Ah, my mistresses, which of you all
Will now deny° to dance? She that makes dainty,°
She I’ll 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, musicians, play.

A hall,° a hall! Give room! And foot it, girls.
More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire; the room is grown too hot.
Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-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?

Second Capulet.
By’r Lady, thirty years.

Capulet.
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 masked.

Second Capulet.
’Tis more, ’tis more. His son is elder,
sir;
His son is thirty.

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

Romeo.
[
To a Servingman
] What lady’s that which
doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?

Servingman.
I know not, sir.

Romeo.
O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear—
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
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 blessèd my rude° hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.

Tybalt.
This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What! Dares the slave
Come hither, covered with an antic face,°
To fleer° and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and honor of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Capulet.
Why, how now, kinsman? Wherefore storm
you so?

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

Capulet.
Young Romeo is it?

Tybalt.
’Tis he, that villain Romeo.

Capulet.
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
’A bears him like a portly° gentleman,
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this 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.

Tybalt.
It fits when such a villain is a guest.

I’ll not endure him.

Capulet.
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!

Tybalt.
Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.

Capulet.
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°—go!
Be quiet, or—More light, more light!—For shame!
I’ll make you quiet. What!—Cheerly, my hearts!

Tybalt.
Patience perforce° with willful choler° meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall,
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall.
Exit.

Romeo.
If° I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine,° the gentle sin is this:°
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Juliet.
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.

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

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

Romeo.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet.
Saints do not move,° though grant for prayers’
sake.

Romeo.
Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purged.

[
Kisses her.
]

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

Romeo.
Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
Give me my sin again. [
Kisses her.
]

Juliet.
You kiss by th’ book.°

Nurse.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

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

Romeo.
Is she a Capulet?
O dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.°

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

Romeo.
Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

Capulet.
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.

I 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.
]

Juliet.
Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?

Nurse.
The son and heir of old Tiberio.

Juliet.
What’s he that now is going out of door?

Nurse.
Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.

Juliet.
What’s he that follows here, that would not
dance?

Nurse.
I know not.

Juliet.
Go ask his name.—If he is marrièd,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse.
His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.

Juliet.
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 loathèd enemy.

Nurse.
What’s this? What’s this?

Juliet.
A rhyme I learnt even now
Of one I danced withal.
One calls within,
“Juliet.”

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

[ACT 2

Enter
]
Chorus.

 

Chorus.
Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes° to be his heir;
That fair° for which love groaned for and would
die,
With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
Alike bewitchèd° by the charm of looks;
But to his foe supposed he must complain,°
And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful
hooks.
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to° swear,
And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new belovèd anywhere;
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Temp’ring extremities with extreme sweet.° [
Exit.
]

 

Romeo.
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy center out.°
Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.
[
Romeo retires.
]

Benvolio.
Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!

Mercutio.
He is wise
And, on my life, hath stol’n him home to bed.

Benvolio.
He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall.
Call, good Mercutio.

Mercutio.
Nay, I’ll conjure too.
Romeo! Humors! Madman! Passion! Lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied!
Cry but “Ay me!” pronounce but “love” and
“dove”;
Speak to my gossip° Venus one fair word,
One nickname for her purblind° son and heir,
Young Abraham Cupid,° he that shot so true
When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid!°
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape is dead,° and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes,
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demesnes° that there adjacent lie,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!