Or thou, or I, or both fhall follow him.
[here, This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Tyb. Thou wretched boy, that didit confort him
La. Cap. He is a kinfman to the Montague, Affection makes him falfe, he fpeaks not true: Some twenty of them fought in this black ftrife, [They fight, Tybalt fall:. And all those twenty could but kill one life :
Rom. This fhall determine that.
Ben. Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :— Stand not amaz'd: the prince will doom thee death, If thou art taken :-hence !-be gone!-away! Rom. O! I am fortune's fool !! Ben. Why dost thou stay? Enter Citizens, &c. Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt. Cit. Up, fir, go with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. Enter Prince, Montague, Capulet, their Wives, &c. Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? Ben. O noble prince, I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: There lies the man, flain by young Romeo, That flew thy kinfman, brave Mercutio.
I beg for juftice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo flew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
Prin. Romeo flew him, he flew Mercutio; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? La. Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mer- cutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law fhould end, The life of Tybalt.
Prin. And, for that offence, Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an intereft in your hates' proceeding, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine, That you shall all repent the lofs of mine: I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; Nor tears, nor prayers, thail purchase out abuses, Therefore ufe none : let Romeo hence in hafte, Elfe, when he's found, that hour is his laft.
La. Cap. Tybalt, my coufin !O my bro-Bear hence this body, and attend our will:
O prince!-O husband!-0, the blood is fpill'd Of my dear kinfman !-Prince, as thou art true 2, For blood of ours, thed blood of Montague.-- O coufin, coufin !
Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray ? Ben. Tybalt, here flain, whom Romeo's hand did flay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bid him bethink How nice 3 the quarrel was, and urg'd withal Your high difpleafure: all this-utter'd With gentle breath, calmi look, knees humbly bow'd,-
Could not take truce with the unruly fpleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breaft; Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial fcorn, with one hand beats Cold death afide, and with the other fends It back to Tybalt, whofe dexterity Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
Mercy but murders, pardoning thofe that kill.
SCENE II.
An Apartment in Capulet's Houfe. Enter Juliet.
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed feeds, Towards Phoebus' manfion; fuch a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately.- Spread thy clofe curtain, love-performing night! That run-away's eyes may wink4; and Romeo Leap to thefe arms, untalk'd of, and unieen !— Lovers can fee to do their amorous rites By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, I beit agrees with night.-Come, civil night, Thou fober-fuited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lofe a winning match, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks,
Hold, friends! friends, part! and, fwifter than With thy black mantle; 'till Itrange love grown
His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rufhes; underneath whole arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of ftout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled : But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to't they go like lightning for, ere I Could draw to part them, was ftout Tybalt flain; And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly :
1 I am always running in the way of evil fortune, like the fool in the play. just and upright. 3 i. e. how flight, how unimportant, how fetty. 4 Juliet would have night's darkness obfcure the great eye of the day, the fun; whom confidering in a poetical light as Phabus, drawn in his car with fiery-footed iteeds, and pofting through the heavens, the very properly calls him, with regard to the fwifthels of his courfe, the run-away, 5 Civil is grave, decently folemn." • Thefe are terms of falconry: An unmanned hawk is one that is not brought to endure company. Bating is Juttering with the wings as striving to fly away.
That all the world fhall be in love with night, And pay no worship to the garish 1 fun.--- 0, I have bought the mansion of a love, But not poffefs'd it; and, though I am fold, Not yet enjoy'd: So tedious is this day, As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child, that hath new robes, And may not wear them. O, here comes my nuríe,
And the brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, fpeaks heavenly eloquence.- Now, nurfe, what news? What haft thou there? the cords,
That Romeo bid thee fetch?
Nurfe Ay, ay, the cords.
Jul. Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
[dead! Nurfe. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's We are undone, lady, we are undone !— Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feather'd raven! wolvifh-ravening lamb! Defpifed fubftance of divinest show! Juft oppofite to what thou justly seem'st, A damned faint, an honourable villain !— O, nature what hadft thou to do in hell, When thou didst bower the fpirit of a fiend In mortal paradife of fuch fweet flesh - Was ever book, containing fuch vile matter, So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell In fuch a gorgeous palace!
Nurfe. There's no trust,
No faith, no honefty in men ; all perjur'd, All forfworn, all naught, all diffemblers.- Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ:¬ Thefe griefs, these woes, these forrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo!
Jul. Blifter'd be thy tongue,
For fuch a wifh! he was not born to shame: Upon his brow fhame is asham'd to fit; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth.
Though heaven cannot :-O Romeo! Romeo!-O, what a beast was 1 to chide at him! Who ever would have thought it ?-Romeo!
Jul. What devil art thou, that doft torment me thus ?
This torture fhould be roar'd in difmal hell. Hath Romeo flain himself? fay thou but I, And that bare vowel I2 fhall poifon more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice : I am not 1, if there be fuch an I;
Or those eyes fhut, that make thee anfwer, I. If he be fain fay-I; or if not, no: Brief founds determine of my weal, or woe. Nurfe. I faw the wound, I faw it with mine eyes,-
God fave the mark !-here on his manly breaft: A piteous corfe, a bloody piteous corfe; Pale, pale as afhes, all bedaub'd in blood, All in gore blood :—I fownded at the fight. Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrupt, break
To prifon, eyes! ne'er look on liberty! Vile earth, to earth refign; end motion here; And thou, and Romeo, prefs one heavy bier! Nurfe. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! O courteous Tybalt! honeft gentleman! That ever I fhould live to fee thee dead! Jul. What storm is this that blows fo contrary? Is Romeo flaughter'd? and is Tybalt dead i My dear-lov'd coufin, and my dearer lord ?— Then, dreadful trumpet, found the general doom! For who is living if those two are gone? Nurfe. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banish'd ; Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banish'd. Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's
Nurfe. It did, it did; alas the day! it did. ful. O ferpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face! Did ever dragon keep sò fair a cave?
Nurfe. Will you speak well of him that kill'd
Jul. Shall I fpeak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy
When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?- But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain coufin would have kill'd my husband; Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have flain; And Tybalt dead, that would have flain my husband; All this is comfort; Wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worfer than Tybalt's death, 'That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; But, O! it preffes to my memory, Like damned guilty deeds to finners' minds: Tybalt is dead, and Romeo—banished ; That—banished, that one word—banished, Hath flain ten thousand Tybalts 3. Tybalt's death Was woe enough, if it had ended there: Or,-if four woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,- Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's dead, Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentation might have mov'd? But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, Romeo is banished, to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All flain, all dead :- -Romeo is banifced,— There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death; no words can that woe found.→→
Where is my father, and my mother, nurse ?
Nurfe. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corfe: Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
Garih is gaudy, fhowy. 2 In our author's time, the affirmative adverb ay was generally written 1: and by this means it both becomes a vowel, and anfwers in found to eye, upon which the 3 Hath put Tybalt out of my mind, as if out of being.
conceit turns in the fecond line,
Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine fhall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Take up thofe cords :-Poor ropes, you are beguil'd, Both you and 1; for Romeo is exil'd: He made you for a highway to my bed; But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come cords; come, nurfe; I'll to my wedding bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maiden-head! Nurfe. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo To comfort you ;-I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night;
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his laft farewel.
Friar Laurence's Gell,
Enter Friar Laurence, and Romeo.
And steal immortal bleflings from her lips; Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Still bluth, as thinking their own kifles fin: Flies may do this, when I from this must fly; They are free men, but I am banished. And fay'ft thou yet, that exile is not death? But Romeo may not; he is banished. Hadft thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, No fudden mean of death, though ne'er fo mean, But-banished-to kill me?-banished ? O friar, the damned ufe that word in hell; Howlings attend it: How haft thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghoftly confeffor,
A fin-abfolver, and my friend profeft, To mangle me with that word-banishment ? Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak word.
Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word; Adverfity's fweet milk, philofophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished. Rom. Yet banished-Hang up philosophy !
Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's What forrow craves acquaintance at my hand, That I yet know not?
Is my dear fon with fuch four company: I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Rom. What lefs than dooms-day is the prince's doom?
Difplant a town, reverse a prince's doom; It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
Fri. O, then I fee that madmen have no ears. Rom. How should they, when that wife men have no eyes?
Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy estate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou doft not feel :
Wert thou as young as 1, Juliet thy love, An hour but marry'd, Tybalt murdered, Doating like me, and like me banished,
Fri. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thon tear Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Rom. Ha! banishment? be merciful, fay-death; For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not fay-banishment. Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished : Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Rom. There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banifhed is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death; then banishment Is death mif-term'd; calling death-banishment, Thou cut'ft my head off with a golden axe, And fmil'ft upon the stroke that murders me.
And fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Fri. Arife; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thy felf. [Knock within. Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-fick groans,
Mift-like, infold me from the fearch of eyes.
[Knock. Fri. Hark, how they knock !-Who's there? Romeo, arife; Thou wilt be taken :-Stay a while :-stand up:
[Knock. Run to my ftudy:-By and by:-God's will! What wilfulness is this?- -I come, I come,
Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulness ! Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, Taking thy part, hath rush'd afide the law, And turn'd that black word death to banishment: Who knocks fo hard? whence come you? what's This is dear mercy, and thou feest it not.
Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog, And little mouse, every unworthy thing, Live here in heaven, and may look on her, But Romeo may not.-More validity, More honourable state, more courtship' lives In carrion flies, than Romeo: they may feize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
your will? Nurfe. [within.] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand;
I come from lady Juliet. Fri. Welcome then.
Nurfe. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? Fri. There, on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Validity feems here to mean worth or dignity; and courtship the state of a courtier permitted to ap‐ proach the highest prefence,
Nurfe. O, he is even in my mistress' cafe, Juft in her cafe !—————
Fri. O woeful fympathy! Piteous predicament!
Nurfe. Even fo lies the,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering: Stand up, ftand up; stand, an you be a man: For Juliet's fake, for her fake, rise and stand; Why should you fall into fo deep an O?
For whofe dear fake thou waft but lately dead; There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, But thou flew'ft Tybalt; there too art thou happy : The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend, And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: A pack of bleffings lights upon thy back; Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a mis'hav'd and a fullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love : Take heed, take heed, for fuch die miferable. Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, Afcend her chamber, hence, and comfort her; But, look, thou ftay not 'till the watch be fet, For then thou canst not pafs to Mantua; Where thou shalt live, 'till we can find a time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
Nurfe. Ah fir! ah fir !-death is the end of all. Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her? Doth the not think me an old murderer, Now I have ftain'd the childhood of our joy With blood remov'd but little from her own? Where is the? and how doth she and what fays My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? Nurfe. O, the fays nothing, fir, but weeps and With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again.
Rom. As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's curfed hand Murder'd her kinfman.-O tell me, friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may fack The hateful mansion. [Drawing bis fword.
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.- Go before, nurfe: commend me to thy lady; And bid her haften all the house to bed, Which heavy forrow makes them apt unto : Romeo is coming.
[night, Nurfe. O Lord, I could have staid here all the To hear good counfel: O, what learning is !— My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Rom. Do fo, and bid my fweet prepare to chide. Nurfe. Here, fir, a ring fhe bid me give you, fir :-
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence. Good night :--and here ftands all your ftate 4,-
Either be gone before the watch be fet,
Fri. Hold thy defperate hand : Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast: Unfeemly woman, in a feeming man! Or ill-befeeming beaft, in feeming both!! Thou haft amaz'd me: by my holy order, I thought thy difpofition better temper'd. Haft thou flain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And flay thy lady too that lives in thee, By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail'ft thou on thy birth, the heaven, and Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do Farewel.
In thee at once; which thou at once would'st lose. Fie, fie! thou fham'ft thy fhape, thy love, thy wit; Which, like an ufurer, abound'st in all, And useft none in that true use indeed
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence: Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, And he shall fignify from time to time Every good hap to you, that chances here: Give me thy hand; tis late: farewel; good night. Rom. But that a joy paft joy calls out on me, It were a grief, fo brief to part with thee:
A Room in Capulet's Houfe. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. Cap. Things have fallen out, fir, fo unluckily,
Which should bedeck thy fhape, thy love, thy wit. That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Digreffing from the valour of a man: Thy dear love, fworn, but hollow perjury, Killing that love which thou haft vow'd to cherish. Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Mif-fhapen in the conduct of them both, Like powder in the fkill-lefs foldier's flaik 2, Is fet on fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou difmember'd with thine own defence 3. What, ro ufe thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
Look you, the lov'd her kinfman Tybalt dearly, And fo did I;-Well, we were born to die.- 'Tis very late, fhe'll not come down to-night: I promife you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo: Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. [morrow; La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early toTo-night the's mew'd up to her heaviness.
1 That is, Thou art a beaft of ill qualities, under the appearance both of a woman and a mau. 2 To understand the force of this allufion, it fhould be remembered that the ancient English foldiers, ung match-locks, inftead of locks with flints as at prefent, were obliged to carry a lighted garā 3 That is, hanging at their belts, very near to the wooden flafk in which they kept their powder. And thou torn to pieces with thy own weapons. 4 The whole of your fortune depends on this.
5 A mew was a place of confinement for hawks.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a defperate tender Of my child's love: I think, fhe will be rul'd In all refpects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.— Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; Acquaint her here with my fon Paris' love; And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday But, foft; What day is this?
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it fo.- How is't, my foul? let's talk, it is not day.
ful. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; It is the lark that fings fo out of tune, Straining harsh difcords, and unpleafing sharps. next-Some fay, the lark makes sweet divifion 3; This doth not fo, for fhe divideth us:
Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too O' Thursday let it be ;-o' Thursday, tell her, She shall be married to this noble earl :Will you be ready? do you like this haste ? We'll keep no great ado ;-a friend, or two :— For hark you, Tybalt being flain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinfman, if we revel much : Therefore we'll have fome half a dozen friends, And there an end. But what fay you to Thurfday? [morrow. Par. My lord, I would that Thurfday were toCap. Well, get you gone :- 'Thursday be
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.- Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho! 'Fore me, it is fo very late, that we
I must hear from thee every day i' the hour,
May call it early by and by: Good night. [Exeunt. For in a minute there are many days:
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly the fings on yon pomegranate tree : Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale : look, love, what envious ftreaks Do lace the fevering clouds in yonder east : Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountains' tops; 1 muit be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I; It is fome meteor that the fun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua : Therefore stay yet, thou need'ft not to be gone. Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, if thou wilt have it to. I'll fay, yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex2 of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat The vaulty heaven fo high above our heads : I have more care to stay, than will to go;-
1 Defperate means only bold, advent'rous.
O! by this count I fhall be much in years, Ere I again behold my Romeo.
Rom. Farewel! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
ful. O, think't thou, we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not; and all thefe woes fhall ferve
For fweet difcourfes in our time to come.
Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining foul; Methinks, I fee thee, now thou art fo low, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb :
Either my eye-fight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And truft me, love, in my eye fo do you: Dry forrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu! [Exit Romes.
Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: If thou art fickle, what doft thou with him That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But fend him back.
La. Cap. [within.] Ho, daughter! are you up? Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Is the not down fo late, or up fo early? What unaccustom'd caufe procures 7 her hither ! Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ? Jl. Madam, I am not well.
2 The appearance of a cloud oppofed to the moon. 3 Divifion seems to have been the technical term for the paufes or parts of a mufical compofition. 4 The toad having very fine cyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occafion of a common saying amongst the people, that the toad and lark had changed eyes. To this the fpeaker alludes. meaning is this: The lark, they fay, has loft her eyes to the toad, and now I would the toad had her voice too, fince the ufes it to the disturbance of lovers. 6 The huntfup was the name of the tune anciently played to wake the hunters, and colle& them together. 7 Procures for brings.
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