Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.

Fri. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow; To-morrow-night look that thou lie alone, Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: Take thou this phial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off:" When, presently, through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep His natural progress, but surcease to beat: No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of supple government, Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death: And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours, And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: Then (as the manner of our country is,) In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier, Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault, Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift; And hither shall he come; and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night, Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua, And this shall free thee from this present shame; If no unconstant toy, nor womanish fear, Abate thy valour in the acting it.

Jul. Give me, O give me! tell me not of fear. Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and pros

perous

In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed.
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.

Jul. Love, give me strength! and strength shall help afford.

Farewell, dear father!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-A room in Capulet's house. ter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servants. Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.[Exit Servant. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. 2 Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.

Cap. How canst thou try them so?

Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

Cap. Send for the county; go tell him of this; I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; And gave him what becomed' love I might, Not stepping o'er the bonds of modesty.

Cap. Why, I am glad on't; this is well,-stand up: This is as't should be.-Let me see the county; Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar, All our whole city is much bound to him. Jul. Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? La. Cap. No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.

Cap. Go, nurse, go with her :-we'll to church
to-morrow. [Exeunt Juliet and Nurse.
La. Cap. We shall be short in our provision;
'Tis now near night.
Cap.
Tush! I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
I'll not to bed to-night;-let me alone;

I'll play the housewife for this once.-What, ho!—
They are all forth: Well, I will walk myself
To county Paris, to prepare him up

Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. [Exe.
SCENE III.-Juliet's chamber. Enter Juliet

and Nurse.

Jul. Ay, those attires are best:-But, gentle

nurse,

I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin.
Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. What, are you busy? do you need
my help?

Jul. No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries En-As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: So please you, let me now be left alone, And let the nurse this night sit up with you; For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, In this so sudden business. Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. La. Cap. Good night! [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. Jul. Farewell!-God knows, when we shall

2 Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me.

Cap. Go, begone.

[Exit Servant.

We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.-
What, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence?
Nurse. Av, forsooth.

Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on

her:

[blocks in formation]

I

meet again.

have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me;
Nurse!-What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must act alone.-
What if this mixture do not work at all?
Come, phial.-
Must I of force be married to the county ?-
No, no;-this shall forbid it;-lie thou there.-
[Laying down a dagger.

What if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead;
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear, it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man :
I will not entertain so bad a thought.-
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo

[blocks in formation]

Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like,

The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,-
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
At some hours in the night spirits resort;-
Alack, alack! is it not like, that I,

So early waking-what with loathsome smells;
And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad;'-
O! if I wake, shall I not be distraught,2
Environed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks, I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
Upon a rapier's point:-Stay, Tybalt, stay!-
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

[She throws herself on the bed.

ulet and Nurse.

For so he said he would. I hear him near :-
Nurse!-Wife!-what, ho!-what, nurse, I say!
Enter Nurse.

Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris:-Hie, make haste,
Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already.
Make haste, I say!
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.-Juliet's chamber; Juliet on the
bed. Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Mistress!-what, mistress!-Juliet !-
fast, I warrant her, she :-

Why, lamb!-why, lady!-fie, you slug-a-bed!-Why, love, I say!-madam! sweet-heart!-why, bride!

What, not a word?-you take your pennyworth

now;

Sleep for a week: for the next night, I warrant,
The county Paris hath set up his rest,
That you shall rest but little.-God forgive me,
(Marry and amen!) how sound is she asleep!
I needs must wake her:-Madam, madam, madam!
Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
He'll fright you up, i'faith.-Will it not be?
What, drest! and in your clothes! and down again!
I must needs wake you: Lady! lady! lady!
Alas! alas!-Help! help! my lady's dead!—

SCENE IV.-Capulet's hall. Enter Lady Cap-0, well-a-day, that ever I was born!—
Some aqua-vitæ, ho!-my lord! my lady!
Enter Lady Capulet.

La. Cap. Hold, take these keys, and fetch more
spices, nurse.

Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry."

[blocks in formation]

La. Cap. What noise is here?
Nurse.

La. Cap. What is the matter?
Nurse.

O lamentable day!

Look, look! O heavy day!
La. Cap. O me, O me!-my child, my only life,
Revive, look up, or I will die with thee !-
Help, help!-call help.

[blocks in formation]

me wail,

Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians.

Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return:

O son, the night before thy wedding-day
Hath death lain with thy bride:-See, there she lies,
Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir;
My daughter he hath wedded! I will die,'
And leave him all; life leaving, all is death's.

[blocks in formation]

Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's heart's ease; O, an you will have me live, playface, heart's ease.

And doth it give me such a sight as this?

La. Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful
day!

Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw
In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,

And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight.
Nurse. O wo! O woful, woful, woful day!
Most lamentable day! most woful day,
That ever, ever, I did yet behold!

O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woful day, O woful day!

Par. Beguil'd divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most détestable death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life!-not life, but love in death!
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
To murder murder our solemnity?-

O child! O child!-my soul, and not my child!-
Dead art thou, dead!-alack! my child is dead;
And, with my child, my joys are buried.

Fri. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives

not

In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
And all the better is it for the maid:
Your part in her you could not keep from death;
But Heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
The most you sought was-her promotion;
For 'twas your heaven she should be advanc'd:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd,
Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
She's not well married, that lives married long;
But she's best married, that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church:
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.

Cap. All things, that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a sad burial feast;
Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;
Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Fri. Sir, go you in,-and, madam, go with
him;-

And go, sir Paris;-every one prepare
To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
The heavens do lour upon you, for some ill;
Move them no more, by crossing their high will.
[Exe. Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris and Friar.
1 Mus. 'Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be

gone.

Nurse. Honest good fellows, ah, put up; put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. [Exit Nurse. 1 Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter Peter.

Pet. Musicians, O musicians, Heart's ease,

(1) Dumps were heavy mournful tunes. (2) To gleek is to scoff, and a gleekman signified a minstrel,

1 Mus. Why heart's ease?

Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays -My heart is full of wo: O, play me some merry dump,' to comfort me.

2 Mus. Not a dump we; tis no time to play now. Pet. You will not then?

2 Mus. No.

Pet. I will then give it you soundly.

1 Mus. What will you give us?

Pet. No money, on my faith; but the gleek: I will give you the minstrel.

1 Mus. Then will I give you the serving-creature. Pet. Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, I'll fa you; Do you note me?

1 Mus. An you re us, and fa us, you note us. 2 Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger; and put out your wit.

Pet. Then have at you with my wit; I will drybeat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger:-Answer me like men:

When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music, with her silver sound;

Why, silver sound? why, music with her silver
sound?

What say you, Simon Catling?

1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

Pet. Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck ?❜
2 Mus. say-silver sound, because musicians

sound for silver.
Pet. Pretty too!-What say you, James Sound-
post?

3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say.

Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound, because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding:

:

Then music with her silver sound,
With speedy help doth lend redress.

[Exit, singing.

1 Mus. What a pestilent knave is this same? 2 Mus. Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-Mantua. A street. Enter Romeo.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;
(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to
think,)

And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

Dost thon not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How fares my Juliet? That I ask again;
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill;
Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
And her immotal part with angels lives;
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

Bal. Pardon me, sir, I will not leave you thus: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

Rom.

Tush, thou art deceiv'd; Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do: Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

Bal. No, my good lord.
Rom.
No matter: get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
[Exit Balthasar.
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means:-O, mischief, thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-

And hereabouts he dwells,-whom late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples;' meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones;
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,

Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said—
An if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.

O, this same thought did but fore-run my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut-
What, ho! apothecary!

Ap.

Enter Apothecary.

Who calls so loud?

Rom. Come hither, man.-I see, that thou art
poor;

Hold, there is ferty ducats: let me have
A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer2
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
Is death, to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
Upon thy back hangs ragged misery,
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law:
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
(1) Herbs. (2) Stuff.

And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.
Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's
souls,

Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell:

I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.-
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee. [Ere.
SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Friar
John.

John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter Friar Laurence.

Lau. This same should be the voice of friar
John.-

Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

John. Going to find a barefoot brother out,
One of our order to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,
And finding him, the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it,-here it is again,-
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, The letter was not nice, but full of charge, Of dear import; and the neglecting it May do much danger: Friar John, go hence; Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight Unto my cell.

John. Brother, I'll go and bring't thee.
Lau. Now must I to the monument alone:
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake;
She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents:
But I will write again to Mantua,

[Exit.

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come:
Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!

[Eril.

SCENE III-A church-yard; in it, a monumen belonging to the Capulets. Enter Paris; and his Page, bearing flowers and a torch.

Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand
aloof;-

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the church-yard tread
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,)
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I an almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure.
[Retires

Par. Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy br dal bed:

Sweet tomb, that in thy circuit dost contain
The perfect model of eternity;

Fair Juliet, that with angels dost remain,
Accept this latest favour at my hands;
That living honour'd thee, and, being dead,

(3) i. e. On a trivial or idle subject.

With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb!

[The boy whistles.
The boy gives warning, something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies, and true-love's rites?
What, with a torch! muffle me, night, a while.

[Retires.

Enter Romeo and Balthazar, with a torch, mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching
iron.

Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light: Upon thy life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face:

But, chiefly, to take hence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring that I must use
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
In what I further shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,

Rom. In faith, I will:-Let me peruse this
face-

Mercutio's kinsman, noble county Paris :-
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode ? I think,
He told me, Paris should have married Juliet:
Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
To think it was so?-0, give me thy hand,
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave,-
A grave? O, no; a lantern, slaughter'd youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence' full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

[Laying Paris in the monument's
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry? which their keepers call
A lightning before death: 0, how may I
Call this a lightning ?-O, my love! my wife!
Death that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
:-Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:

Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips, and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-

And strew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs: Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?

The time and my intents are savage-wild;
More fierce, and more inexorable far,
Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

Bal, I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.-Take

thou that:

Live, and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires.
Rom. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,

[Breaking open the door of the monument.
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food.
Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's cousin;-with which grief,
It is supposed the fair creature died ;-
And here is come to do some villanous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—

[Advances.

Stop, thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I
hither.-

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man,
Fly hence and leave me;-think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee.-I beseech thee, youth,
Heap not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury:-0, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself:
For I come hither arm'd against myself:
Stay not, begone;-live, and hereafter say-
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy conjurations, 2
And do attach thee as a felon here.

O, what more favour can I do to thee,
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain,
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin!-Ah! dear Juliet,
Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous;
And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace of din night
Depart again; here, here will I remain
With worms that are thy chambermaids; O, here
Will I set up my everlasting rest;

And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh.-Eyes, look your
last!

Arms, take your last embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death!—
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
Here's to my love!-[Drinks.] O, true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick.-Thus with a kiss I die.

[Dies.

Enter at the other end of the church-yard, Friar
Laurence, with a lantern, crow, and spade,

Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
Have my old feet stumbled at graves?-Who's
there?

Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?

Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows
you well.

Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee,
boy.
[They fight. Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
Page. O lord! they fight: I will go call the One that you love.
watch.
[Exit Page. Fri.
Who is it!
Par. O, I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be mer- Bal.
Romeo.
ciful,
Fri. How long hath he been there?

Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

(1) i. e. Action of importance.

[Dies.

(3) The allusion is to a louvre or turret all of windows, by means of which ancient halls, &c. are (2) I do refuse to do as thou conjurest me to do, illuminated. 6. depart. (4) Presence-chamber. (5) Conductor.

VOL. II.

ST

[ocr errors][ocr errors]
« ZurückWeiter »