Stockdale's edition of Shakespeare, with explanatory notes

Greg. The quarrel is between our masters, and

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?

Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagiles!

Enter old Capulet, in bis gown; and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noife is this?-Give me my long [word 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 ftand: 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 too!; here comes of the house of the Montagues.

Enter Abram and Baithafar.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will
back thee.

Greg. How? turn thy back, and run?
Sam. Fear me not.

Greg. No, marry; I fear thee!

Cap. My fword, I fay !—old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spight of me.

Enter old Montague, and Lady Montagut. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,Hold me not, let me go.

La. Mon. Thou shalt not ftir one foot to feek a foe.

Enter Prince, with Attendants.

Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-ftained steel,-
Will they not hear?-what ho! you men, you
beafts,-

That quench the fire of your pernicious rage

Sam. Let us take the law of our fides; let With purple fountains iffuing from your veins,them begin.

Greg. 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 difgrace to them, if they bear it.
Alr. Do you bite your thumb at us, fir?
Sam. I do bite my thumb, fir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, fir?
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I fay-ay?
Greg. No.

On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mis-temper'd3 weapons to the ground,
And hear the fentence of your moved prince.—
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice difturb'd the quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Caft by their grave befeeming ornaments,
To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate :

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.

For this time, all the reft depart away:
You, Capulet, fhall go along with me;

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 mafter's kinfmen.

Sam. Yes, better, fir.

Abr. You lye.

Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remem-
ber thy fwashing blow.
[They fight.

Ben. Part, fools; put up your fwords;
You know not what you do.

Enter Tybalt.

To know our further pleasure in this cafe,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

[Exeunt Prince, Capulet, &c. Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach?-Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?

Ben. Here were the fervants of your adveríary,
And yours, clofe fighting ere I did approach:
I drew to part them; in the inftant came
The fiery Tybalt, with his fword prepar'd;
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He fwung about his head, and cut the winds,
Who nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn :

Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heart- While we were interchanging thrufts and blows,

lefs hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

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

Or manage it to part thefe men with me.

Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
'Till the prince came, who parted either part.
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo !—faw you him
to-day?

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:

Have at thee, coward.

Enter three or four Citizens, with clubs.
Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! ftrike! beat
them down!

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worthipp'd fun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where-underneath the grove of fycamour,
That weftward rooteth from the city' fide-
So early walking did I fee your fon :

To fwash feems to have meant to be a bully, to be noifily valiant. fword used in war, which was fometimes wielded with both hands. angry weapons.

The long fword was the 3 Mis-temper' weapons are Towards

Towards him I made; but he was 'ware of me,
And ftole into the covert of the wood:
1, measuring his affections by my own,~~
That most are bufied when they are moit alone,
Purfu'd my humour, not purfuing his,
And gladly fhunn'd who gladly fled from me.

Mon. Many a morning hath he there been feen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs:
But all fo foon as the all-chearing fun
Should in the furtheft eaft begin to draw
The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy fon,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous muft his humour prove,
Unless good counfel may the cause remove.

Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the caufe? 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' counsellor, Is to himfelf-I will not fay, how trueBut to himfelf fo fecret and so close, So far from founding and difcovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread 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 Remio, at a distance.

Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step
afide;

I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Mon. I would, thou wert fo happy by thy stay,
To hear true thrift.-Come, madam, let's away.

Ben. Good morrow, coufin. Rom. Is the day fo young?

[Exeunt.

Ben. But new ftruck nine.
Rom. Ay me! fad hours feem long.
Was that my father that went hence fo faft ?
Ben. It was:- -What fadness lengthens Romeo's
hours?
[them fhort.
Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes
Ben. In love?
Rom. Out

Ben. Of love?

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 ftill,
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.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love:
Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first created!
O heavy lightnefs! ferious vanity!
Mif-shapen chaos of well-feeming forms!

That is, tell me in ferionfaefs.

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, fick health!
Still-waking fleep, that is not what it is!-
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Doft thou not laugh?

Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Rom. Good heart, at what?

Ben. At thy good heart's oppreffion.

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 shown, 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 sparkling in lover's eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it elfe? a madness most discreet, A choaking gall, and a preferving fweet. Farewel, my coz.

Ben. Soft, I will go along;

[Going.

An if you leave me fo, you do me wrong.
Rom. Tut, I have loft myself; I am not here;
This is not Romeo, he's fome other where.

Ben. Tell me in fadnefs ', who she is you love?
Rom. What, fhal! I groan, and tell thee?
Ben. Groan? why, no;

But fadly tell me, who.

Rom, Bid a fick man in sadness make his will :— O word ill urg'd to one that is fo ill !— In faduefs, coufin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aim'd fo 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 fooneft hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you mifs: fhe'll not be hit

With Cupid's arrow, fhe hath Dian's wit;
And, in ftrong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow the lives unharm❜d.
She will not stay the fiege of loving terms,
Nor bid the encounter of affailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to faint-feducing gold:
O, he is rich in beauty; only poor,

That, when the dies, with beauty dies her store 2. Ben. Then he hath fworn, that she will still [wafte;

live chafte ?

Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge
For beauty, ftary'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all pofterity.

She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair,
To merit blifs by making me despair:
She hath forfworn to love; and, in that vow,
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I fhould forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties.

Rom. 'Tis the way

To call hers, exquifite, in queftion more:
Thefe happy masks 3, that kifs fair ladies' brows,
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
He, that is ftrucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-fight loft:

2 Mr. Theobald reads, "With her dies beauty's flore."

3 i, e. the masks worn by female fpectators of the play.

Shew

Fater Capulet, Paris, and Servant.
Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I,
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
For men to old as we to keep the peace.

Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both;
And pity 'tis, you liv'd at odds fo long.
But now, my lord, what fay you to my fuit?

Cap. But faying o'er what I have faid before:
My child is yet a ftranger in the world,
She hath not feen the change of fourteen years;
Let two more fummers wither in their pride,
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Par. Younger than the are happy mothers made.
Cap. And too foon marr'd are thote to early"
made.

The earth hath fwallow'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 confent is but a part;
An the agree, within her fcope of choice
Lies my confent and fair according voice.
This night I hold an old accuftom'd fealt,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, moft welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor houfe, look to behold this night
Earth treading ftars, that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort as do lufty young men feel
When well-apparel'd April on the heel

Of limping winter treads, even fuch delight
Among freth female buds fhall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all fee,

And like her moft, whofe merit most shall be:
Such, amongst view of many, mine being one,
May ftand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me :--Go, firrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona, find those persons out,
Whole names are written there; and to them fay,
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.
Serv. Find them out, whofe names are written
here? It is written--that the fhoemaker should
meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his laft,
the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his
nets; but I am fent to find those 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,

One pain is leffen'd by another's anguish;
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
One desperate grief cures with another's langurs
Take thou fome new infection to thy eye,
And the rank poifon of the old will die.

Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
Ben. For what, I pray thee?

Rom. For your broken thin.

Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad ?

Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a mad-ma
Shut up in prifon, kept without my food,
Whipt, and tormented, and-Good-e'en, good
[read

fellow.

Se v. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, fir, can you
Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my mifery.
Serv. Perhaps you have learn'd it without book:
But I pray, can you read any thing you fee?
Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Serv. Ye fay honeftly; Reft you merry!
Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read.

[He reads the lift.]

"Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; County Anfelm, 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 niece Rofaline; Livia; Signior Valentio, and his coufin Tybalt; Luco and the lively Helena."

A fair affembly; Whither fhould they come ?
Serv. Up.

Rom. Whither to fupper?

Serv. To our house.
Rom. Whole house?
Serv. My mafter's.

Rom. Indeed, I fhould have afk'd you that before. Sev. Now I'll tell you without afking: My matter is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and cruth a cup of wine 2. Reit you merry.

Ben. At this fame ancient feaft of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rofaline, whom thou fo lov'it;
With all the admired beauties of Verona :
Go thither; and, with untainted eye,
Compare her face with fome that I fhall fhow,"
And I will make thee think thy fwan a crow.
Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye
Maintains fuch falfhood, then turn tears to fires!
And thefe,—who, often drown'd,could never die,—
Transparent hereticks, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-feeing fun
Ne'er faw her match, fince first the world begun,
Ben. Tut! tut! you faw her fair, none else being
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye:
But in those crystal scales, let there be weigh'd
Your lady's love 3 againft fome other maid
That I will fhew you, fhining at this feast,
And the shall scant fhew well, that now fhews best,
Rem. I'll go along, no fuch fight to be fhewn,
But to rejoice in fplendor of mine own. [Exeunt,

2 A cant expression

This is a Gallicifm: Fille de terre is the French phrase for an heiress. which feems to have been once common among low people. We ftill fay-to crack a bottle. 3 Your lady's love is the love you bear to your lady, which in our language is commonly used for the lady herself,

SCENE

III.

A Room in Capulet's House.

Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.

La. Cap. Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

[laugh, Nurfe. Yes, madam; Yet I cannot chufe but To think it fhould leave crying, and fay- Ay :'

La. Cap. Nurfe, where's my daughter? call her And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow

forth to me.

Nurfe. Now, by my maidenhead,―at twelve

year old,

I bade her come.- -What, lamb! what, lady-bird!
God forbid !-where's this girl ?-what, Juliet!
Enter Juliet.

Jul. How now, who calls?
Nurfe. Your mother.

Jul. Madam, I am here; what is your will?
La. Cap. This is the matter: Nurfe, give leave
awhile,

We must talk in fecret.-Nurfe, come back again;
I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our counfel.
Thou know'ft, my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurfe. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
La. Cap. She's not fourteen.

Nurfe. I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-
And yet, to my teen 1 be it spoken, I have but four,
She's not fourteen: How long is't now to Lam-

mas-tide?

La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days.

Nurfe. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night, fhall the be fourteen. Sufan and the,-God rest all Christian souls !— Were of an age.-Well, Sufan is with God; She was too good for me: But, as I faid, On Lammas-eve at night fhall fhe be fourteen; That fhall fhe, marry; I remember it well. 'Tis fince the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd,-I ne er fhall forget it, Of all the days of the year, upon that day: For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting i' the fun under the dove-house wall, My lord and you were then at Mantua :— Nay, I do bear a brain :-but, as I faid, When it did tafte the worm-wood on the nipple Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! To fee it teachy, and fall out with the dug. [trow, Shake, quoth the dove-houfe: 'twas no need, I To bid me trudge.

And fince that time it is eleven years:

A bump as big as a young cockrel's ftone;
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly.

Yea,' quoth my husband, fall'ft upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall backward when thou com'ft to age;
Wilt thou not, Jule?' it ftinted, and faid-Ay.
Jul. And fint thou too, I pray thee, nurie, fay I.
Nurfe. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to
his grace!

Thou waft the prettieft babe that e'er I nurs'd;
An I might live to fee thee married once,
I have my with.

La. Cap. Marry, that marry is the very theme
came to talk of :-Tell me, daughter Juliet,
How ftands your difpofition to be married?
Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of.
Nufe. An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
I'd fay, thou hadit fuck'd wifdom from thy teat.
La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now ;-
younger than you,

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
Are made already mothers: by my count,
I was your mother much upon these years
That you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief;-
The valiant Paris fecks you for his love.

Nurfe. A man, young lady! lady, fuch a man, As all the world-Why, he's a man of wax. La. Cap. Verona's fummer hath not such a flower. Nurfe. Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower, La. Cap. What fay you? can you love the gen

tleman ?

This night you shall behold him at our feaft:
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
Examine every feveral lincament,

And fee how one another leads content;
And what obfcur'd in this fair volume lies,
Find written in the margin 3 of his eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
The fifh lives in the fea; and 'tis much pride
For fair without the fair within to hide :
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,

For then she could ftand alone; nay, by the rood, That in gold clafps locks in the golden story.

She could have run and waddled all about.

For even the day before, the broke her brow: And then my husband-God be with his foul ! 'A was a merry man ;-took up the child; 'Yea,' quoth he, ⚫ dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward, when thou haft more

• wit;

Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holy-dam, The pretty wretch left crying, and faid---' Ay :' To fee now, how a jeft fhall come about! I warrant, an I should live a thoufand years, I never should forget it; Wilt thou not, Jule ?' quoth he:

And, pretty fool, it ftinted 2, and faid— Ay.'

1 i. c. to my forrow.

21. e. it stopped, it forbore from weeping. tient books were always printed in the margin.

3 The comments on an

La. Cap.

La. Cap. We follow thee.-Juliet, the county stays.

Nurfe. Go, girl, feek happy nights to happy

days.

SCENE

A Street.

IV.

[Exeunt.

Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or fix
Mafkers, Torch-bearers, and others.

I'll be a candle-holder, and look on 6,
The game was ne'er fo fair, and I am done.
Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse 7, the conftable's
own word:

If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire,
Or (fave your reverence) love, wherein thou stick it
Up to the ears.-Come, we burn day-light 9, hc.
Rom. Nay, that's not fo.

Mer. I mean, fir, in delay

We wafte our lights in vain, like lamps by day.

Rom. What, fhall this fpeech be fpoke for our Take our good meaning; for our judgment fits

excufe?

Or fhall we on without apology?

Ben. The date is out of fuch 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 2 ;
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our enterance :
But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure them a meature, and be gone.

Rom. Give me a torch 3,I am not for this!
ambling;

Being but heavy, I will bear the light. [dance.
Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you
Rom. Not I, believe me: you have dancing-
fhoes,

With nimble foles; I have a foul of lead,
So ftakes me to the ground, I cannot move.
Mer. You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And foar with them above a common bound.

Rom. I am too fore enpearced with his fhaft,
To foar with his light feathers; and fo bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe :
Under love's heavy burden do 1 fink.

Five times in that, ere once in our fine wits.

Rom. And we mean well, in going to this mai; But 'tis no wit to go.

Mer. Why, may one afk ?

Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.

Mer. And fo did I.

Rom. Well, what was yours?
Mer. That dreamers often lye.

Rom. In bed afleep; while they do dream things

Mer. O, then, I fee, queen Mab hath been with
She is the fairies' midwife; and she comes
In fhape no bigger than an agat stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies 10
Athwart men's nofes as they lie asleep:
Her waggon-ípokes made of long spinners' legs ;
The cover, of the wings of grafhoppers ;
The traces, of the smallest fpider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's watry bears;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film:
Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,
Not half fo big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:

Mer. And, to fink in it, thould you burden love? Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut,
Too great oppreffion for a tender thing.

Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boift'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 cafe to put my vifage in ;

[Putting on a mask.

A vifor for a vifor !- -what care I,
What curious eye doth quote 4 deformities?
Here are the beetle-brows fhall blufh for me.
Ben. Come, knock, and enter; and no fooner in,
But every man betake him to his legs.

Rom. A torch for me; let wantons, light of
heart,

Tickle the fenfeless rushes with their heels 5;
For I am proverb'd with a grandfire phrase,-

note 7, p. 957.

Made by the joiner iquirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this ftate the gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of
love:
{ftraight:

On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'nies
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees:
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream;
Which oft the angry Mab with blifters plagues,
Because their breaths with fweet-meats tainted are.
Sometime the gallops o'er a courtier's nofe,
And then dreams he of smelling out a fuit:
And fometime comes the with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parfon's nofe as a' lies afleep,

Then dreams he of another benefice :
Sometime fhe driveth o'er a foldier's neck,
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

1 It was a custom obferved by those who came uninvited to a masquerade, with a defire to conceal themfelves for the fake of intrigue, or to enjoy the greater freedom of converfation, to preface their entry on thefe occafions by fome speech in praife of the beauty of the ladies, or the generosity of the 2 See entertainer; and to the prolixity of fuch introductions we believe Romeo is made to allude. 3 A torch-bearer feems to have been a conftant attendant on every troop of masks. 4 To quote is to obferve. 5 We have already obferved, that it was anciently the custom to firew rooms with rushes, before carpets were in ufe. The ftage was alfo anciently ftrewn with kes 6 The proverb which Romeo means, is contained in the line immediately following: To hold the 7 Dun's the mout is a candie, is a very common proverbial expreffion, for being an idle Spectator. proverbial expreflion, the precife meaning of which cannot be determined. 8 Draw dun out of the mire, feems to have been a game. &c. are lighted in the day time.

9 To burn day-light is a proverbial expreffion, ufed when candles 10 Atomy is no more than an obfolete substitute for atom.

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