Sivut kuvina

It is a chance that does redeem all sorrows

That ever I have felt.

Kent. O my good master!

Lear. Pr'ythee, away.

Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors, all!
I might have saved her; now she's gone for ever!—
Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little. Ha!

What is't thou say'st?-Her voice was ever soft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman:-
I kill'd the slave that was a hanging thee.

Off. 'Tis true, my lords, he did.

Lear. Did I not, fellow?

I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion,
I would have made them skip: I am old now,

And these same crosses spoil me.-Who are you?
Mine eyes are none o' the best:-I'll tell you straight.
Kent. If fortune brag of two she loved and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear. This is a dull sight: Are you not Kent?
Kent. The same;

Your servant Kent: Where is your servant Caius ?
Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that;

He'll strike, and quickly too:-He's dead and rotten.
Kent. No, my good lord; I am the very man ;—
Lear. I'll see that straight.

Kent. That, from your first of difference and decay,
Have follow'd your sad steps.

Lear. You are welcome hither.


Kent. Nor no man else; all's cheerless, dark, and deadly.Your eldest daughters have fore-doom'd themselves,

And desperately are dead.

Lear. Ay, so I think.

Alb. He knows not what he says; and vain it is

That we present us to him.

Edg. Very bootless.*

Enter an OFFICER.

Off. Edmund is dead, my lord.

Alb. That's but a trifle here.

You lords, and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decayt may come,
Shall be applied: For us, we will resign,
During the life of this old majesty,

To him our absolute power :-You, to your rights;


With boot, and such addition§ as your honours
Have more than merited.-All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings.-Q, see, see!

Lear. And my poor fool|| is hang'd! No, no, no life:

* Useless.

† I. e. Lear.


Used here as a term of endearment.

§ Titles.

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, Sir.

Do you see this? Look on her,―look,―her lips,

Look there, look there!

Edg. He faints !-My lord, my lord,—

Kent. Break, heart; I pr'ythee, break!

Edg. Look up, my lord.

[He dies.

Kent. Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass! he hates him, That would upon the rack of this rough world

Stretch him out longer.

Edg. O, he is gone, indeed.

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endured so long: He but usurp'd his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence.-Our present business Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain


Rule in this realm, and the gored state sustain.
Kent. I have a journey, Sir, shortly to go;
My master calls, and I must not say, no.

Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say.
The oldest hath borne most: we, that are young,
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

[Exeunt, with a dead march.


[blocks in formation]

SCENE, during the greater part of the Play, in Verona; once, in the Fifth Act, at Mantua.


Two households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,

Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which, if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.


SCENE I-A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, armed with Swords and Bucklers.

Sam. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.*

Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.

Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.

Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.
Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.

Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads.


Gre. The heads of the maids ?

Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

Gre. They must take in sense, that feel it.

Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Gre. "Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.t Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.
Gre. How? turn thy back, and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Gre. No, marry: I fear thee!

Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list.

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.


Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, Sir?
Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, Sir?
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay?
Gre. No.

* Put up with affronts.

† Dried hake,

Sam. No, Sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sir; but I bite my thumb, Sir.

Gre. Do you quarrel, Sir?

Abr. Quarrel, Sir? no, Sir.

Sam. If you do, Sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man

as you.

Abr. No better.

Sam. Well, Sir.

Enter BENVOLIO, at a distance.

Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, Sir.

Abr. You lie.

Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy swashing* blow.


[They fight.

Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you [Beats down their swords.


Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death..

Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace?
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward.

I hate the word,

[They fight. Enter several Partizans of both Houses, who join the Fray; then enter CITIZENS, with Clubs.

1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

Enter 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?
Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.


Mon. Thou villain, Capulet!-Hold me not, let me go.
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
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 mistemper'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,

* Slashing.

+ As we should now say, police.

+ Angry.

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