The arden shakespeare co.., p.444
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works, page 444
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plaits the manes of horses in the night
And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,
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Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is she –
ROMEO Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace.
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Thou talk’st of nothing.
MERCUTIO True, I talk of dreams,
Which are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
Which is as thin of substance as the air
And more inconstant than the wind, who woos
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Even now the frozen bosom of the north
And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence
Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
BENVOLIO
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves:
Supper is done and we shall come too late.
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ROMEO I fear too early, for my mind misgives
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
With this night’s revels, and expire the term
Of a despised life clos’d in my breast
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By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen.
BENVOLIO Strike, drum.
1.5 They march about the stage, and Servingmen come forth with napkins.
1 SERVINGMAN Where’s Potpan that he helps not to take
away? He shift a trencher! He scrape a trencher!
2 SERVINGMAN When good manners shall lie all in one
or two men’s hands, and they unwashed too, ’tis a foul
thing.
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1 SERVINGMAN Away with the joint-stools, remove the
court- cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me
a piece of marchpane, and as thou loves me, let the
porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell – Anthony,
and Potpan!
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3 SERVINGMAN Ay boy, ready.
1 SERVINGMAN You are looked for and called for, asked
for and sought for, in the great chamber.
4 SERVINGMAN We cannot be here and there too.
Cheerly, boys! Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver
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take all. Exeunt servingmen.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, JULIET, TYBALT, Nurse and all the guests and gentlewomen to the masquers.
CAPULET
Welcome, gentlemen, ladies that have their toes
Unplagu’d with corns will walk a bout with you.
Ah my mistresses, which of you all
Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
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She I’ll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?
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,
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You are welcome, gentlemen: come, musicians, play.
A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it girls!
[Music plays and they dance.]
More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up.
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
Ah sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well.
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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 masque?
COUSIN CAPULET By’r Lady, thirty years.
CAPULET
What, man, ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much.
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’Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty years: and then we masqu’d.
COUSIN CAPULET
’Tis more, ’tis more, his son is elder, sir:
His son is thirty.
CAPULET Will you tell me that?
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His son was but a ward two years ago.
ROMEO What lady’s that which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder knight?
SERVANT I know not, sir.
ROMEO O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright.
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
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As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear –
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,
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And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight.
For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.
TYBALT This by his voice should be a Montague.
Fetch me my rapier, boy. Exit boy.
What, dares the slave
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Come hither, cover’d with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now by the stock and honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
CAPULET
Why how now, kinsman, wherefore storm you so?
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TYBALT Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:
A villain that is hither come in spite
To scorn at our solemnity this night.
CAPULET Young Romeo is it?
TYBALT ’Tis he, that villain Romeo.
CAPULET Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
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A bears him like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
To be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth.
I would not for the wealth of all this town
Here in my house do him disparagement.
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Therefore be patient, take no note of him.
It is my will, the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
TYBALT It fits when such a villain is a guest:
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I’ll not endure him.
CAPULET He shall be endur’d.
What, goodman boy! I say he shall! Go to,
Am I the master here or you? Go to.
You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul,
You’ll make a mutiny among my guests,
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You will set cock-a-hoop, you’ll be the man!
TYBALT Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.
CAPULET Go to, go to.
You are a saucy boy. Is’t so indeed?
This trick may chance to scathe you. I know what.
You must contrary me. Marry, ’tis time –
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Well said, my hearts – You are a princox, go
Be quiet, or – More light! More light! – For shame,
I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!
TYBALT Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
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I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall
Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt’rest gall. Exit.
ROMEO If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
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To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
JULIET
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.
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ROMEO Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
JULIET Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
ROMEO O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do:
They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
JULIET
Saints do not move, though grant for prayer’s sake.
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ROMEO
Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.
[He kisses her.]
Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d.
JULIET Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
ROMEO Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg’d.
Give me my sin again. [He kisses her.]
JULIET You kiss by th’ book.
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NURSE Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
ROMEO What is her mother?
NURSE Marry bachelor,
Her mother is the lady of the house,
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.
I nurs’d her daughter that you talk’d withal.
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I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chinks.
ROMEO Is she a Capulet?
O dear account. My life is my foe’s debt.
BENVOLIO Away, be gone, the sport is at the best.
ROMEO Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
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CAPULET Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
[They whisper in his ear.]
Is it e’en so? Why then, I thank you all;
I thank you honest gentlemen, good night.
More torches here. Come on then, let’s to bed.
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Ah sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late,
I’ll to my rest. Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet guests, gentlewomen and masquers,
JULIET Come hither Nurse. What is yond gentleman?
NURSE The son and heir of old Tiberio.
JULIET What’s he that now is going out of door?
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NURSE Marry, that I think be young Petruchio.
JULIET
What’s he that follows here, that would not dance?
NURSE I know not.
JULIET Go ask his name. If he be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
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NURSE His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
The only son of your great enemy.
JULIET My only love sprung from my only hate.
Too early seen unknown, and known too late.
Prodigious birth of love it is to me
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That I must love a loathed enemy.
NURSE What’s this? What’s this?
JULIET A rhyme I learn’d even now
Of one I danc’d withal. [One calls within: ‘Juliet’.]
NURSE Anon, anon!
Come let’s away, the strangers all are gone. Exeunt.
2.Ch. Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which love groan’d for and would die,
With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov’d and loves again,
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Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,
But to his foe suppos’d he must complain
And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks.
Being held a foe, he may not have access
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
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And she as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new beloved anywhere.
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. Exit.
2.1 Enter ROMEO alone.
ROMEO Can I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
[Withdraws.]
Enter BENVOLIO with MERCUTIO.
BENVOLIO Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!
MERCUTIO He is wise,
And on my life hath stol’n him home to bed.
BENVOLIO He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall.
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Call, good Mercutio.
MERCUTIO Nay, I’ll conjure too:
Romeo! Humours! Madman! Passion! Lover!
