BENVOLIO, Friends of Romeo. TYBALT, Kinsman to Capulet. An old Man, bis Coufin. Friar LAWRENCE, a Francifcan. Friar Jous, of the fame Order. ABRAM, Servant to Montague. PETER. Lady MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague. JULIET, Daughter to Capulet, in love with Romeo. CHORUS,-Page, Boy to Paris, an Officer, an Apothecary. Citizens of Verona, several Men and Women, Relations to both Houfes; Maskers, Guards, Watch and other Attendants. The SCENE, in the beginning of the fifth Act, is in Mantua; during all the rest of the Play, at Verona. PROLOGUE. TWO boyho'ds, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay cur Scene, From ancient grudge break to new matiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two for: A pair of flar-croft lovers take their life; Wbsfe mifidventur'd piteous overthrotus Do, with their death, bury their parents' ftrife. 1 The fearful paffage of their death-mark'd love, What bere fhall mifs, our toil fhall firive to mend, SCENE I. A STREET. Enter Sampson and Gregory, two fervants of Capulet. Sam. REGORY, o' my word, we'll not carry coals 2. G Greg. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I ftrike quickly, being mov'd. I. Sam. A dog of the houfe of Montague moves me. Greg. To move, is-to ftir; and to be valiant, is-to ftand to it; therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'ft away. Sam. A dog of that houfe fhall move, me to ftand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Greg. That fhews thee a weak flave; for the I weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker veffels, are ever thrust to the wall:therefore I will pufh Montague's men from the Greg. But thou art not quickly mov'd to strike. wall, and thruft his maids to the wall. 2 Dr. War 1 The story on which this play is founded, is related as a true one in Girolamo de la Corte's Hiftory of Verona, and was well known to the English poets before the time of Shakspeare. burton obferves, that this was a phrase formerly in ufe to fignify the bearing injuries. Greg. The quarrel is between our masters, and Down with the Capulets! down with the Most us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will fhew myself a tyrant. when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Greg. The heads of the maids ? gies! Enter old Capulet, in bis gown; and Lady Gapu't. Cap. What noife is this?-Give me my kag (woru 2, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden- for a fword? heads; take it in what fenfe thou wilt. Greg. They must take it in fenfe, that feel it. Sam. Me they fhall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh, Greg. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadft, thou hadst been Poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes of the houfe of the Montagues. Enter Abram and Balthafar. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Greg. How? turn thy back, and run? Greg. No, marry; I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our fides; them begin. let Greg. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they lift. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, fir? Cap. My fword, I fay !-old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in fpight of me. Enter old Montague, and Lady Montagu. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not ftir one foot to feck a foe. Enter Prince, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage Sam. No, fir, I do not bite my thumb at you, If ever you difturb our streets again, Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace. Sam. If you do, fir, I am for you; I ferve as And, Montague, come you this afternoon, good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sam. Well, fir. Enter Benvolio. Greg. Say-better; here comes one of my maf ter's kinfmen. Sam. Yes, better, fir. Abr. You lye. Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy fwashing blow. [They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your fwords; You know not what you do. Enter Tybalt. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart- Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. To know our further pleasure in this cafe, [Exeunt Prince, Cupulet, Et. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach?→ Ben. Here were the fervants of your adverfary, Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Enter three or four Citizens, with clubs. Ben. Madam, an hour before the worthipp'd fun To w Teems to have meant to be a bully, to be noifily valiant. fword ufed in way, which was fometimes wielded with both hands. angry weapons. 2 The long fword was the 3 Mis-temper' weapons are Towar Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, Mon. Many a morning hath he there been feen Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counfellor, Is to himfelf-I will not fay, how trueBut to himself fo fecret and so close, So far from founding and difcovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can ipread his fweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the fame. Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow, We would as willingly give cure, as know. Enter Ramso, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, ftep I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd. Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof! Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, fee path-ways to his will! Where shall we dine ?-O me !-What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. 1 That is, tell me in feriousness. Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health! Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.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 haft fhown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of fighs; Being purg'd, a fire parkling in lover's eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it elfe? a madness moft difcreet, A choaking gall, and a preferving sweet. Farewel, my coz. [Going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; An if you leave me fo, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have loft myfelf; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's fome other where. Ben. Tell me in fadnefs', who fhe is you love? Rom. What, fhall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. Groan? why, no; But fadly tell me, who. Rom. Bid a fick man in fadnefs make his will:O word ill urg'd to one that is fo ill!In fadnefs, coufin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd to near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marks-man !-And he's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is foonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you mifs: fhe'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, the hath Dian's wit; live chafte ? Rom. She hath, and in that fparing makes huge She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I thould forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers, exquifite, in question more: 2 Mr. Theobald reads, "With her dies beauty's flore." 3 i. e. the masks worn by female fpectators of the play. Shew Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Cap. But faying o'er what I have faid before: Par. Younger than the are happy mothers made. The earth hath fwallow'd all my hopes but the, One pain is leffen'd by another's anguish; Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that Rom. For your broken thin. Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad? Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a ma-mm [He reads the lift.} "Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Aufelm, and his beauteous filters; The lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and "his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother "Valentine; Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; My fair mece Rofaline; L2; "Signior Valentio, and his coufin Tybalt; Luce, and the lively Helena." A fair affembly; Whither should they come ? Rom. Whither to fupper? Rom. Whofe houfe? Rom. Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. Serv. Now I'll tell you without alking: My mafter is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the houfe of Montagues, I pray, come and crufh a cup of wine 2. Reft you merry. Ben. At this fame ancient feaft of Capulet's And like her moft, whofe merit most shall be: Sups the fair Rofaline, whom thou fe lov'ft; Such, amongst view of many, mine being one, With all the admired beauties of Verona: May ftand in number, though in reckoning none. Go thither; and, with untainted eye, Come, go with me :-Go, firrah, trudge about Compare her face with some that I shall show," Through fair Verona, find those persons out, And I will make thee think thy fwan a crow. Whofe names are written there; and to them say, Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye My houfe and welcome on their pleasure stay. Maintains fuch falfhood, then turn tears to fires' [Exeunt Capulet and Paris. And these,—who, often drown'd,could neverdi,— Serv. Find them out, whofe names are written Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars! here? It is written-that the fhoemaker fhould One fairer than my love! the all-feeing fun meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his latt,Ne'er faw her match, fince first the world began. the fifher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am fent to find thofe perfons, whofe names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing perfon hath here writ. I muft to the learned ::--- -In good time. Enter Benvolio, and Romeo. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burning. Ben. Tut! tut! you faw her fair, none elie boug This is a Gallicifm: Fille de terre is the French phrafe for an heiress. 2 A cant expre which feems to have been once common among low people. We fill lay-to crack a bottle. 3 ar lady's love is the love you bear to your lady, which in our language is commonly used for the lady heifelf. SCENE A Room in Capulet's Houfe. Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurfe. La. Cap. Nurfe,,where's my daughter? call her forth to me. Nurfe. Now, by my maidenhead,―at twelve I bade her come. What, lamb! what, lady-bird! Jul. How now, who calls? Jul. Madam, I am here; what is your will? We must talk in fecret.-Nurfe, come back again; Nurfe. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. Nurfe. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, I And yet, to my teen 1 be it spoken, I have but four, mas-tide? La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. And fince that time it is eleven years: thy peace. La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold Thou waft the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs'd: La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Here in Verona, ladies of efteem, Nurfe. A man, young lady! lady, fuch a man, This night you shall behold him at our feast : For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, That in gold clafps locks in the golden ftory. She could have run and waddled all about. For even the day before, the broke her brow: 'A was a merry man ;-took up the child; Yea,' quoth he, doft thou fall upon thy face? • wit; Wilt thou not, Jule ? and, by my holy-dam, And, pretty fool, it stinted 2, and said— Ay.’ So fhall you share all that he doth pofieis, men. [love i La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris ful. I'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye, Than your confent gives frength to make it fly. Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, fupper ferv'd up, you call'd, my young lady afk'd for, the nurfe curs'd in the pantry, and every thing in ex tremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you follow ftraight. 21. e. it stopped, it forbore from weeping. Ii. e. to my forrow. cient books were always printed in the margin. 3 The comments on an La. Cap |