Romeo and Juliet (19 page)

Romeo.
Amen, amen! But come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail° the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight.
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare—
It is enough I may but call her mine.

Friar.
These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
And in the taste confounds° the appetite.
Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.°
A lover may bestride the gossamers°
That idles in the wanton° summer air,
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.°

Juliet.
Good even to my ghostly confessor.

Friar.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

Juliet.
As much to him,° else is his thanks too much.

Romeo.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it,° then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbor air, and let rich music’s tongue
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Juliet.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament.°
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

Friar.
Come, come with me, and we will make short
work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till Holy Church incorporate two in one. [
Exeunt.
]

[ACT 3

 

Benvolio.
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire.
The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not ’scape a brawl,
For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

Mercutio.
Thou art like one of these 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 him on the drawer,° when indeed
there is no need.

Benvolio.
Am I like such a fellow?

Mercutio.
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.°

Benvolio.
And what to?

Mercutio.
Nay, and 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
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 quarreling. Thou
has quarreled 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 quarreling!

Benvolio.
And 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.°

Mercutio.
The fee simple? O simple!°

Benvolio.
By my head, here comes the Capulets.

Mercutio.
By my heel, I care not.

Tybalt.
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
Gentlemen, good-den.° A word with one of you.

Mercutio.
And but one word with one of us? Couple
it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tybalt.
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, and
you will give me occasion.

Mercutio.
Could you not take some occasion without
giving?

Tybalt.
Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.

Mercutio.
Consort?° What, dost thou make us min-
strels? And thou make minstrels of us, look to hear
nothing but discords. Here’s my fiddlestick;° here’s
that shall make you dance. Zounds,° consort!

Benvolio.
We talk here in the public haunt of men.
Either withdraw unto some private place,
Or reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.

Mercutio.
Men’s eyes were made to look, and let them
gaze.
I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.

Tybalt.
Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my
man.°

Mercutio.
But I’ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your
livery.°
Marry, go before the field,° he’ll be your follower!
Your worship in that sense may call him man.

Tybalt.
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this: thou art a villain.°

Romeo.
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 knowest me not.

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

Romeo.
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 mine own, be satisfied.

Mercutio.
O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata
° carries it away. [
Draws.
]
Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?°

Tybalt.
What wouldst thou have with me?

Mercutio.
Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your
nine lives. That I mean to make bold 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.

Tybalt.
I am for you. [
Draws.
]

Romeo.
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mercutio.
Come, sir, your
passado!
° [
They fight.
]

Romeo.
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame! Forbear this outrage!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying° in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

[
Tybalt under Romeo’s arm thrusts Mercutio in, and flies.
]

Mercutio.
I am hurt.
A plague a° both houses! I am sped.°
Is he gone and hath nothing?

Benvolio.
What, art thou hurt?

Mercutio.
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry, ’tis
enough.
Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

[
Exit Page.
]

Romeo.
Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.

Mercutio.
No, ’tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide
as a church door; but ’tis enough, ’twill serve. Ask
for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave°
man. I am peppered,° I warrant, for this world. A
plague a 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 arith-
metic!° Why the devil came you between us? I was
hurt under your arm.

Romeo.
I thought all for the best.

Mercutio.
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague a both your houses!
They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it,°
And soundly too. Your houses!

Exit
[
Mercutio and Benvolio
].

Romeo.
This gentleman, the Prince’s near ally,°
My very° friend, hath got this mortal hurt
In my behalf—my reputation stained
With Tybalt’s slander—Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soft’ned valor’s steel!°

Benvolio.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspired° the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Romeo.
This day’s black fate on moe° days doth
depend;°
This but begins the woe others must end.

[
Enter Tybalt.
]

Benvolio.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Romeo.
Alive in triumph, and Mercutio slain?

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

Tybalt.
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him
here,
Shalt with him hence.

Romeo.
This shall determine that.

Benvolio.
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!
Romeo.
O, I am fortune’s fool!°
Benvolio.
Why dost thou stay?

Citizen.
Which way ran he that killed Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Benvolio.
There lies that Tybalt.

Citizen.
Up, sir, go with me.
I charge thee in the Prince’s name obey.
Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wives,
and all.

Prince.
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

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

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

Lady Capulet.
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother’s child!
O Prince! O cousin! Husband! O, the blood is
spilled
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?

Benvolio.
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did
slay.
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice° the quarrel was, and urged° withal
Your high displeasure. All this—utterèd
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly
bowed—
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
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 entertained° 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.