To bid my king and master aye good night; Is he not here? Alb. Great thing of us forgot!Speak, Edmund, where's the king? and where's Cor Seest thou this object, Kent? [delia ?[The Bodies of Goneril and Regan are brought in. Kent. Alack, why thus? Edm. Yet Edmund was belov'd: The one the other poison'd for my sake, And after slew herself. Alb. Even so.-Cover their faces. Edm. I pant for life :-Some good I mean to do, Despite of mine own nature. Quickly send,Be brief in it, to the castle; for my writ Is on the life of Lear, and on Cordelia : Nay, send in time. Alb. Run, run, O, run Lear. Did I not, fellow? I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion Lear. This is a dull sight: Are you not Kent? 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 foredoom'd themselves, And desperately are dead. Lear. Alb. He knows not what That we present us to him. Edg. Ay, so I think. he says; and vain it is Very bootless. That's but a trifle bere. Edg. To who, my lord?-Who has the office? send You lords, and noble friends, know our intent. Thy token of reprieve. Edm. Well thought on; take my sword, Give it the captain. Alb. Haste thee, for thy life. [Exit Edgar Edm. He hath commission from thy wife and me To hang Cordelia in the prison, and To lay the blame upon her own despair, Alb. The gods defend her! Bear him hence awhile. Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!-0, you are men of stones; Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so I know when one is dead, and when one lives; Is this the promis'd end? Kent. What is't thou say'st?-Her voice was ever soft, What comfort to this great decay may come, Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life: Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, sir.- That would upon the rack of this tough world Edg. Alb. Bear them from hence.-Our present business Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain [To Kent and Edgar. Rule in this realm, and the gor'd 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. SCENE, during the greater Part of the Play, in Verona: once in the fifth Act, at Mantua. PROLOGUE. Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our seene, A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Do, with their death, bury their parents' strife. ACT I. SCENE I. A public Place. Enter Sampson and Gregory, armed with Swords Sam. Gregory, o'my word, we'll not carry coals. 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, isto stand to it: therefore, if thou art mov'd, 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 it 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. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues. Enter Abram and Balthazar. 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 do. [Beats down their Swords. Enter Tybalt. Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the 1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them ho! Enter Montague and Lady Montague. me go. Lady M. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; 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? And made Verona's ancient citizens Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Ben. Here were the servants of your adversary, Lady M. O, where is Romeo?-saw you him toRight glad I am, he was not at this fray. [day? Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore, That westward rooteth from the city's side,So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me, And stole into the covert of the wood : I, measuring his affections by my own,That most are busied when they are most alone,Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew, Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs: But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself; Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out, And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentons must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove. Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means? Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself-I will not say, how true- Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Enter Romeo, at a Distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. [aside; Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift,-Come, madam, let's away. [Exeunt Montague and Lady. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Rom. Is the day so young? Ben. But new struck nine. Rom. Ah me sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast! [hours? Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romeo's Rom. Not having that, which having, makes them Ben. In love? Rom. Out Ben. Of love? [short. Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! Rom. Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health; Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. [Going. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Ben. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marksman !-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live [waste; chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow, Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. Rom. 'Tis the way To call hers, exquisite, in question more: SCENE II. A Street. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before : Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house, look to behold this night Earth-treading stars, that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, And like her most, whose merit most shall be: My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. Enter Benvolio and Romeo. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's burnOne pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; [ing: Lady C. This is the matter: Nurse, give leave We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Serv. My master's. [Reads. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye And these,-who, often drown'd, could never die, forth to me. [old, Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead,-at twelve year Jul. How now, who calls? Jul. What is your will? Your mother. The: For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nurs❜d: Lady C. Marry, that marry is the very theme Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. Are made already mothers: by my count, Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, And see how one another lends content; And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies, The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride, So shall you share all that he doth possess, Nurse. No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. Enter a Servant. Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. Lady C. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays. Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. A Street. Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others. Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our exOr shall we on without apology! [cuse? Ben. The date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hood-wink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance: But, let them measure us by what they will, We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. Rom. Give me a torch,-I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light. Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. Rom. Not I, believe me you have dancing shoes, With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead, So stakes me to the ground, I cannot move. Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft, Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boist'rous; and it pricks like thorn. Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down,Give me a case to put my visage in; [Putting on a Mask. A visor for a visor !-what care I, What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs. Rom. A torch for me let wantons, light of heart, Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,I'll be a candle-holder, and look on,The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. [word: Mer. Tut! dan's the mouse, the constable's own If thou art dun, we'il draw thee from the mire Of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stick'st Up to the ears.-Come, we burn daylight, ho. Rom. Nay, that's not so. Mer. I mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits Five times in that, ere once in our five wits. Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mask; But 'tis no wit to go. Mer. Why, may one ask? Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. Mer. true. And so did I. Rom. Well, what was yours? Mer. That dreamers often lie. Rom. In bed, asleep, while they do dream things [you. Mer. O, then, I see, queen Mab hath been with She is the fairies' midwife! and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : Her waggon spokes made of long spinners' legs; The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; The traces, of the smallest spider's web; The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams : Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film : Her waggoner, a small gray-coated gnat, Not half so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid: Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, Then dreams he of another benefice : Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; Thou talk'st of nothing. Rom. I fear, too early for my mind misgives, SCENE V. [Exeunt. A Hall in Capulet's House. 1 Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher? 2 Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. 1 Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate:-good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone, and Nell.Antony and Potpan! 2 Serv. Ay, boy ready. 1 Serv. You are looked for, and called for, asked for, and sought for, in the great chamber. toes 2 Serv. We cannot be here and there too.-Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. [They retire behind. Enter Capulet, &c. with the Guests and the Maskers. Cap. Gentlemen, welcome! ladies, that have their Unplagn'd with corns, will have a bout with you.Ah ba, 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 you now? You are 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, A hall! a ball! give room, and foot it, girls. [play. [Music plays, and they dance. More light, ye knaves; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.Ab, sirrab, this unlook'd-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? |