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 ROMEO AND JULIET
 
 Copyright, 1 90 1 
 
 By 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
 
 COLLE< 
 
 LIBRAF 
 
 PR 
 
 THE f^^^ 
 
 TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET. 
 
 Preface. 
 
 The Earliest Edition. The First Edition of Romeo 
 and Juliet was a quarto published in 1597 with the fol- 
 lowing title-page: — 
 
 "An I Excellent | conceited Tragedie | of | Romeo 
 and luliet, | As it hath been often (with great applause) 
 
 nourable the L. of 
 Printed by lohn 
 
 plaid publiquely by the right Ho 
 Hunsdon \ his Seruants. | London 
 Danter. I 1597-1" 
 
 A second quarto edition appeared in 1599: — ''The 
 Most Ex- I cellent and lamentable | Tragedie, of Romeo 
 and luliet. \ Nezdy corrected, augmented, and | amended: 
 I As it hath bene sundry times publiquely acted, by the 
 right Honourable the Lord Chamberlaine his Seruants. 
 London | Printer by Thomas Creede, for Cuthbert 
 Burby, and are to | be sold at his shop neare the Ex- 
 change. | 1599." 
 
 A third quarto was issued in 1609, as " acted by the 
 King's Maiesties Seruants, at the Globe," and " printed 
 for lohn Smethwick"; this edition was subsequently 
 reprinted, with an undated title-page, giving us for the 
 first time the name of the author — " written by W. 
 Shakespeare,'' though this additional information is not 
 found in all the copies. 
 
 A fifth quarto, identical with the fourth, bears the 
 date of 1637. 
 
 The text of the First Folio version was taken from 
 the third quarto; many errors therein seem due to the 
 compositors. The second quaito is our best authority 
 
 : I
 
 Preface THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 for the play, though " it is certain that it was not printed 
 from the author's MS., but from a transcript, the writer 
 of which was not only careless, but thought fit to take 
 unwarrantable liberties with the text." It formed the 
 basis of the third quarto; this again was used for the 
 fourth, and the fourth was reprinted as the fifth edition; 
 all these are therefore often in agreement, and are re- 
 ferred to as Quartos. 
 
 Quarto i, which is nearly one quarter less than Quarto 
 2 (2232 lines as against 3007), was evidently made up 
 from shorthand notes taken at the theatre, supplemented 
 by copies of portions of the original play, which for the 
 most part appears to have agreed with the authorised 
 version of 1599, though certain essential differences be- 
 tween the two editions make it probable that many a pas- 
 sage had been revised, re-written, or augmented {e.g. 
 Act II., Sc. vi., the meeting of Romeo and JuHet at the 
 Friar's cell ; Act IV., Sc. v., the lamentations over Juliet ; 
 Act V. Sc. iii. 12-17). I^ spite of its many defects, the 
 First Quarto cannot be altogether neglected in dealing 
 with the text of the play. The theory, however, that it 
 gives us " a fairly accurate version of the play as it was 
 first written " is now held by few scholars.* 
 
 Date of Composition. The evidence seems to point to 
 as early a year as 1591 for the date of the composition of 
 Romeo and Juliet, at least in its first form, though the play, 
 as we know it, may safely be dated circa 1596. 
 
 In proof of the early date the following are noteworthy 
 points: — (i) in Weever's Epigrams, written before 1595, 
 
 * The First quarto has been reprinted by the Cambridge Editors, 
 and in Mr. Furness' Variorum Edition ; there is a facsimile edi- 
 tion of Quartos i, 2, 4, in Shakespere Quarto Facsimiles; there 
 are two valuable critical parallel editions of the First and Second 
 quartos, by Tycho Mommsen (published in 1859, with a full study 
 of the textual problems), and by P. A. Daniel {New Shakespere 
 Society, 1874) ; a summary of the various theories held by scholars 
 on the relationship of the quartos, etc., is to be found in Furness, 
 pp. 415-424.
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET j Preface 
 
 Romeo is alluded to as one of Shakespeare's popular char- 
 acters; (ii) the allusions (I. iii. 23, 25) to the earthquake 
 seem to refer to a famous earthquake felt in London in 
 1580; (iii) passages in Daniel's Complainte of Rosamunde, 
 1592, are probably reminiscent of Romeo's speech in 
 presence of Juliet in the tomb*; (iv) there are several 
 striking parallels in Romeo and Juliet and Marlowe's 
 plays t and other early dramas (e.g. Dr. DodipoU, written 
 before 1596); certain passages in undoubtedly early 
 plays, e.g. Tn'o Gentlemen of Verona (Act V. 11. i-io) 
 suggests points of contact with the present play. 
 
 But over and above these external points must be 
 placed the internal evidence, which places Romeo and 
 Juliet among the early love-plays: — (i) the frequency of 
 rhyme, much of it in the form of alternate rhymes; (ii) 
 the conceits, word-play, alliteration, and the hke; (iii) the 
 lyrical character of the whole. It is peculiarly striking 
 that the three chief forms of medieval love-poetry are to 
 be found in the play; (i) in the sonnet-form of the first 
 meeting of the lovers; (ii) in the serena, or evening-song, 
 of Juhet (Act III. Sc. ii. 1-33) ; (iii.) in the alha or 
 dawn-song, of the parting lovers (Act III. Sc. v. 1-36). 
 
 To these typical lyrical pieces should be added Paris' 
 
 * The argument might, of course, work the other way (and it is 
 often taken so) , but Daniel was notorious for his conveyance of 
 Shakespearian beauties, and is alluded to, from his point of view, 
 in The Return from Parnassus, where a character, Gallio by name, 
 shows too ready a knowledge of the play, and Ingenioso observes 
 in an "aside": — Mark, Romeo and Juliet. O monstrous theft! 
 I think he will run through a hook of Samuel Daniell's." The 
 meaning of this comment is clear from the third play of the " Par- 
 nassus Trilogy,'" where the criticism on Daniel is to this effect : — 
 
 " Only let him more sparingly make use 
 Of others' wit and use his own the more." 
 
 (Cf. Preface to Richard II.) 
 
 1 E.g. The first lines of Juliet's " Serena " seem like an echo o£ 
 a passage in Edward XL : — " Gallop apace bright Phoebus thro' the 
 sky," etc.
 
 Preface THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 highest lyrical expression, the graceful though conven- 
 tional elegiac sestet (V. iii. 12-18).* 
 
 Finally, one must not overlook the close connection 
 of the play with the sonnets, many of which, as we know 
 from Meres, must have been written before 1598; it is a 
 pity we cannot definitely date Sonnet cxvi. : — 
 "Love is not love 
 Which alters where it alteration finds, 
 Or bends with the remover to remove. 
 
 Love's not Tim.e's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
 Within his bending sickle's compass comes. . . ." 
 
 The Plot. A story having the same features as Romeo 
 and Juliet has been found in a Greek medieval Romance 
 of the fifth century, but whatever its ultimate origin, the 
 story eventually becomes localised in Italy, the Veronese 
 fixing the date of the tragedy in the year 1303. Dante, 
 reproaching the Emperor Albert for the neglect of Italy 
 (Purg. vi.), alludes thus to the Montagues and Capu- 
 lets:— 
 
 ''' Vieni, a vcder Montechie Capelletti," etc. t 
 
 Although several earlier Italian stories exist recalling 
 that of Romeo and Juliet, these names of the lovers are 
 not found in Itahan literature till about 1530, when their 
 history, " histcria novellamente retrovata di duo nohili 
 amanti," was first told by Luigi da Porto, who, a love- 
 sick soldier, once heard the story from his favourite 
 archer, the Veronese Peregrino, as they rode along the 
 lonely road from Gradisca and Udine, in the country of 
 Friuli. Peregrino's story was in all probability based on 
 an old tale found among the Novelle of Masuccio Saler- 
 nitano, printed at Naples in 1476. Da Porto's novel be- 
 
 * Contrast this with Romeo's blank verse speech, which imme- 
 diately follows. Nothing could be more significant. 
 "f'Come, see the Capulcts and Montagues, 
 The Filippeschi and Monaldi, man, 
 
 V/ho ca?st for nought! Those sunk in grief, and these 
 With dire suspicion rack'd." 
 
 4
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Preface 
 
 came very popular, and several renderings were made of 
 the story.* Most important is that of Bandello (1554), 
 which was translated into French by Boisteau, and in- 
 cluded in his famous Histoires Tragiques (1559), whence 
 were derived two English versions : — (i) Arthur Brooke's 
 poem (1562), and (ii) Paynter's novel (1567), included 
 in the " Palace of Pleasure." 
 
 The Poem and the Play. Shakespeare probably con- 
 sulted both these versions of the story, but Brooke's poem 
 was his main source. He followed it closely; here and 
 there the play betrays a slight influence upon its diction ; 
 conceits and antithesis in the poem may occasionally be 
 paralleled from the play. The plot of the two versions is 
 substantially the same,t but Shakespeare shows his dra- 
 matic skill' in dealing with the materials — e.g. (i) he 
 compresses the action, which in the story occupies four 
 or five months, into as many days; (ii) he recreates the 
 character of Mercutio, who in the poem is a mere " cour- 
 tier bold among the bashful maydes " ; (iii) he makes 
 Paris die at the grave of Juliet by the hand of Romeo; 
 in the poem nothing is heard of the Count after his dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 But though in subject Shakespeare follows Brooke, it 
 need hardly'be said that in its spirit — in its transfiguration 
 of the story — the play altogether transcends the poem ; a 
 
 * In 1553 Gabriel Giolito published in Venice a poem on the sub- 
 ject; its author was probably Gherardo Boldiero. Ten years pre- 
 viously (1542) Adrian Sevin, the translator of Boccacio's 
 Philocopo, gave the story in French, though the names of the 
 lovers became strangely changed in his version. (The sources are 
 discussed in Simrock's Quellen, Furness' Variorum Edition, etc.; 
 specially valuable is Daniel's Originals and Analogues, Part I. 
 New Shak. Soc.) 
 
 tin the versions of Da Porto and Bandello, and in Garrick's 
 acting version of Shakespeare's play, Juliet wakes from her sleep 
 while Romeo still lives ; Shakespeare follows Brooke and Paynter 
 in the catastrophe of the play. On the other hand, Shakespeare 
 makes Juliet two years younger than she is in Brooke's poem.
 
 Preface THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 greater effort than Brooke's wearisome production* would 
 pale its uneffectual fire before the glowing warmth of this 
 Song of Songs of Romantic Passion. 
 
 Early Plays on ** Romeo and Juliet.'* In his "address 
 to the Reader," Brooke speaks of having seen '' the same 
 argument lately set forth on stage with more commenda- 
 tion than I can look for." No trace has been discovered 
 of the drama alluded to; it is difficult to imagine a popu- 
 lar Romantic play belonging to this early date (c. 1562), 
 and no doubt Brooke was referj-ing to some such Aca- 
 demic production as " Tancred and Gismunda "; possibly 
 the play in question was an exercise in Latin f verse, acted 
 in a College Hall or at the Inns of Court. 
 
 The earliest extant play on the subject of Romeo and 
 Juliet is La Hadriana, by the blind poet and actor, Luigi 
 Groto; its date is 1578. There are some few striking 
 resemblances with Shakespeare's play ; the most note- 
 worthy being the parting of the tw^o lovers. J 
 
 * A short specimen will interest the reader : — 
 "At last with trembling voice and shamefast cheer the maid 
 Unto her Romeus turned herself, and thus to him she said: — 
 O blessed be the time. of thy arrival here: 
 
 But ere she coidd speak forth the rest, to her love drew so near; 
 
 And so within her mouth her tongue he glewed fast 
 
 That no one word could scape her more, than what already past." 
 
 t There exist, indeed, among the Sloane MSS., the fragments of 
 
 a Latin version of the story, evidently the exercise of a Cambridge 
 
 student, but the MS. belongs, I think, to the beginning of the 17th 
 
 century. It is nevertheless an interesting curiosity. 
 
 $J. C. Walker, in his "Historical Memoir on Italian Tragedy," 
 first called attention to the play from this point of view, and 
 translated the passages in question ; e.g. 
 
 Latino. If I err not, the lamp of day is nigh. 
 
 List to the nightingale, that wakes with us. 
 With US laments mid thorns; and now the dew. 
 Like our tears, pearls the grass. Ah me, alas. 
 Turn towards the east thy face, etc. 
 Groto's play was certainly known in England; there is an an- 
 noted copy among the dramatist Ruggles' books at Clare College.
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Preface 
 
 Shakespeare's great contemporary, the Spanish drama- 
 tist, Lope de Vega, used the same subject for one of his 
 bright and graceful " cloak and sword comedies," imder 
 the title of " Castelvines y MontesesJ' Again, Lope's 
 successor, Francisco de Rojas y Zorrilla, was drawn to 
 the theme, and founded upon it his " Los Bandos de Ve- 
 rona. 
 
 As early as 1626, if not earlier, a version of Shake- 
 speare's play was known in Germany (v. Cohn's '^Shake- 
 speare in Germany in the XVIth and XVII th centuries "). 
 On the many English acting perversions of the tragedy, 
 it is unnecessary to comment. 
 
 Duration of Action. Shakespeare's compression of 
 the story has already been referred to ; four or five days 
 cover the whole action of the play, the rapidity of events 
 efifectively harmonising with the " local colour," with the 
 violent love and violent hate of the impulsive South, " too 
 like the lightning." 
 
 The lovers meet on Sunday ; they are wedded on Mon- 
 day ; they part at dawn on Tuesday ; they are re-united 
 in death on the night of Thursday. 
 
 ** <© (pric "Sote, !)alf anqzX anb fjalf birb. 
 2tntj all a toonDec anb a tuilb bcjefircP^ 
 
 * F. W. Cosens published a translation of both plays in a pri- 
 vately printed edition. A full summary of Lope's drama is to be 
 found in Furness' ''Variorum'' Romeo and Jtdiet.
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Critical Comments. 
 I. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 I, The Veronese houses of Montague and Capulet 
 have had a feud of long standing, which has brought 
 about continued street-brawls between retainers of the 
 families, from the highest relatives to the lowest servants. 
 The old Capulet gives a feast to which all his friends 
 are bidden. Naturally the Montagues are not included 
 in the list. But Romeo, the heir of the latter house, is 
 persuaded to don a mask and present himself at the 
 festivities in order to catch a glimpse of Rosaline, a 
 flame of his. Romeo, however, has scant eyes for Rosa- 
 line; he discovers another young girl whose beauty and 
 grace set his heart beating as it never beat before. He 
 inquires her name and is dismayed to learn that she is 
 Juliet, the heiress of the Capulets. Meanwhile Tybalt, 
 nephew to Lady Capulet, discovers the identity of Romeo, 
 and is barely dissuaded by old Capulet — whose hospitality 
 overrides his anger — from drawing upon the Montague. 
 
 II, Juliet has likewise discovered the name of the 
 handsome young stranger, who carried off her affec- 
 tions by storm at the banquet. Melancholy and love- 
 lorn, she repairs to her balcony, and there confides to 
 the moon and stars the secret of her heart. But it hap- 
 pens that Romeo is underneath the balcony and hears 
 her confess her love for him. Overjoyed, he reveals his 
 presence, and the maiden is constrained to make a fur- 
 ther avowal. The lovers resolve on a speedy and secret 
 marriage, which is brought to pass the very next day 
 in the cell of Friar Laurence, a friend of Romeo's.
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 III. On the day of the wedding two of Romeo's 
 friends, Benvoho and Mercutio, while walking through 
 the streets of Verona, are accosted by Tybalt, who is 
 seeking an encounter with Romeo because of the latter's 
 presence at the Capulet's during the feast. A quarrel 
 ensues, and at its height Romeo appears. Tybalt rails 
 at him, but Romeo answers softly, for he is just return- 
 ing from his wedding and the Capulets are no longer 
 so hateful in his eyes. The others, however, cannot 
 understand his weakness, and Mercutio, exasperated, 
 fights Tybalt in his stead. Mercutio is slain. Romeo, 
 in just vengeance, then turns upon and slays Tybalt. 
 By a mandate of the Prince of Verona, Romeo is ban- 
 ished. He flees the land, leaving Juliet the weeping 
 bride of one night. 
 
 Juliet's father, knowing nothing of her secret nuptials, 
 is resolved to wed her to her kinsman the young Paris. 
 
 IV. In her despair Juliet consults the friendly Friar 
 Laurence, who advises her to appear to consent to a 
 marriage with Paris, but on her nuptial morn to drink 
 a potion which the Friar prepares for her. This will 
 give her, he says, the semblance of death; she will be 
 laid away in the burial vault, and Romeo will be sent 
 for to rescue her. She takes the drug as the Friar 
 directs and her parents, heart-broken, believe her dead 
 and consign her to the tomb. 
 
 V. Bad news travels more swiftly than good. Before 
 the Friar has had the opportunity to notify Romeo of 
 the sham death, other messengers advise him that JuHet 
 is really no more. Romeo, frantic with grief, procures 
 a deadly poison and goes to Juliet's tomb to die beside 
 his wife. At the door of the tomb he meets Paris, who 
 forces him to fight. Paris is slain. Romeo enters the 
 tomb, drinks the poison, and breathes his last. A few 
 moments later Juliet awakes from her trance, sees her 
 lover's dead body and learns the truth from Friar Lau- 
 rence, who has but now arrived at the tomb. She seizes 
 Romeo's dagger and kills herself. The double tragedy 
 
 Q
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 so affects the heads of the houses of Capulet and Mon- 
 tague that they become reconciled as through a bloody 
 sacrifice. 
 
 McSpadden : Shakespearian Synopses. 
 
 II. 
 
 The Southern Atmosphere. 
 
 Who does not recall those lovely summer nights in 
 which the forces of nature seem eager for development, 
 and constrained to remain in drowsy langour — a min- 
 gling of intense heat, superabundant energy, impetuous 
 power, and silent freshness? The nightingale sings in 
 the depths of the woods. The flower-cups are half 
 closed. A pale lustre is shed over the foliage of the 
 forests and upon the brow of the hills. The deep re- 
 pose conceals, we are aware, a procreant force; the 
 melancholy reserve of nature is the mask of a passionate 
 emotion. Under the paleness and the coolness of the 
 night, you divine restrained ardors, and flowers which 
 brood in silence, impatient to shine forth. Such is the 
 peculiar atmosphere with which Shakspeare has envel- 
 oped one of his most wonderful creations — Romeo and 
 Juliet. Not only the substance, but the forms of the 
 language come from the South. Italy was the inventor 
 of the tale: she drew it from her national memorials, 
 her old family feuds, her annals filled with amorous 
 and bloody intrigues. In its lyric accent, its blindness 
 of passion, its blossoming and abundant vitality, in the 
 brilliant imagery, in the bold composition, no one can 
 fail to recognize Italy. Romeo utters himself like a 
 sonnet of Petrarch, with the same refined choice and 
 the same antitheses ; there is the same grace and the 
 same pleasure in versifying passion in allegorical stan- 
 zas. Juliet, too, is wholly the woman of Italy; with 
 
 10
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 small gift of forethought, and absolutely ingenuous in 
 her abandon, she is at once vehement and pure. 
 
 Chasles : Etudes sur W. Shakspeare, 
 
 How intense is the life of Romeo and Juliet in their 
 environment! Hark to the gay and yet warlike hubbub 
 around them, the sport and merriment, the high words 
 and the ring of steel in the streets of Verona! Hark 
 to the Nurse's strident laughter, old Capulet's jesting 
 and chiding, the low tones of the Friar, and the irre- 
 pressible rattle of Mercutio's wit! Feel the magic of 
 the whole atmosphere in which they are plunged, these 
 embodiments of tumultuous youth, living and dying in 
 love, in magnanimity, in passion, in despair, under a 
 glowing Southern sky, softening into moonlight nights 
 of sultry fragrance — and realise that Shakespeare had 
 at this point completed the first stage of his triumphal 
 progress ! 
 
 Brandes : William Shakespeare. 
 
 III. 
 Romeo. 
 
 I consider Romeo designed to represent the character 
 of an unlucky man — a man, who, with the best views 
 and fairest intentions, is perpetually so unfortunate as to 
 fail in every aspiration, and, while exerting himself to 
 the utmost in their behalf, to involve all whom he holds 
 dearest in misery and ruin. Had any other passion or 
 pursuit occupied Romeo, he would have been equally 
 unlucky as in his love. Ill-fortune has marked him for 
 her own. From beginning to end he intends the best; 
 but his interfering is ever for the worst. Everything 
 glides on in smooth current at Capulet's feast till the 
 appearance of him whose presence is deadly. Romeo 
 himself is a most reluctant visitor. He apprehends that 
 
 II
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 the consequences of the night's revels will be the vile 
 forfeit of a despised life by an untimely death, but sub- 
 mits to his destiny. He foresees that it is no wit to go, 
 but consoles himself with the reflection that he '' means 
 well in going to this masque." His intentions, as usual, 
 are good; and, as usual, their consequences are ruinous. 
 Vainly does Romeo endeavour to pacify the bullying 
 swordsman, Tybalt; vainly does he decline the proffered 
 duel. His good intentions are again doomed to be 
 frustrated. There stands by his side as mad-blooded a 
 spirit as Tybalt himself, and Mercutio takes up the 
 abandoned quarrel. The star of the unlucky man is 
 ever in the ascendant. His ill-omened interference 
 slays his friend. Had he kept quiet the issue might have 
 been different; but the power that had the steerage of 
 his course had destined that the uplifting of his sword 
 was to be the signal of death to his very friend. And 
 when the dying Mercutio says, '^ Why the devil came 
 you between us? I was hurt under your arm," he can 
 only offer the excuse, which is always true and always 
 unavailing, *' I thought all for the best." . . . 
 
 The mode of his death is chosen by himself, and in that 
 he is unlucky as in everything else. Utterly loathing 
 life, the manner of his leaving it must be instantaneous. 
 He stipulates that the poison by which he shall die shall 
 not be slow of effect. He leaves himself no chance of 
 escape. Instant death is in his hand; and thanking the 
 true apothecary for the quickness of his drugs, he 
 scarcely leaves himself a moment with a kiss to die. If 
 he had been less in a hurry — if he had not felt it impos- 
 sible to delay posting off to Verona for a single night — 
 if his riding had been less rapid, or his medicine less 
 sudden in its effect, he might have lived. 
 
 Maginn : Shakespeare Papers. 
 
 Romeo's is not an active, practical nature like Henry 
 v.; neither is he great by intellect, a thinker, in any 
 
 12.
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 high sense of the word. But if he Hves and moves and 
 has his being neither heroically in the objective world 
 of action, Hke Henry V., nor in the world of the mind, 
 like Hamlet, all the more he lives, moves, and has his 
 being in the world of mere emotion. To him emotion 
 which enriches and exalts itself with the imagination, 
 emotion apart from thought and apart from action, is 
 an end in itself. Therefore it delights him to hover 
 over his own sentiment, to brood upon it, to feed upon 
 it richly. Romeo must needs steep his whole nature 
 in feeHng, and, if Juliet does not appear, he must love 
 Rosaline. . . . Romeo nurses his love; he sheds 
 tears; he cultivates solitude; he utters his groans in 
 the hearing of the comfortable friar; he stimulates his 
 fancy with the sought-out phrases, the curious antitheses, 
 of the amorous dialect of the period : — 
 
 " Why, then, O brawling love ! O loving hate ! y 
 O anything, of nothing first create ! 
 O heavy lightness ! serious vanity ! 
 Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms ! 
 Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health ! " 
 
 He broods upon the luxury of his sorrow. And then 
 Romeo meets Juliet. Juliet is an actual force beyond 
 and above himself, a veritable fact of the world. Never- 
 theless, there remains a certain cHnging self-conscious- 
 ness, an absence of perfect simplicity and directness, 
 even in Romeo's very real love of Juliet. This is placed 
 by Shakspere in designed contrast with the singleness 
 of JuHet's nature, her direct unerroneous passion, which 
 goes straight to its object, and never broods upon itself. 
 It is Romeo who says in the garden scene, 
 
 " How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night. 
 Like softest music to attending ears ! " 
 
 He has overheard the voice of Juliet, and he cannot 
 answer her call imtil he has drained the sweetness of 
 the sound. He is one of those men to whom the emo- 
 
 13
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 tional atmosphere which is g^ven out by the real object, 
 and which surrounds it Uke a luminous mist, is more 
 important than the reality itself. 
 
 DowDEN : Shakspere. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Juliet. 
 
 Such is the simphcity, the truth, and the loveliness of 
 Juliet's character, that we are not at first aware of its 
 complexity, its depth, and its variety. There is in it 
 an intensity of passion, a singleness of purpose, an 
 entireness, a completeness of efifect, which we feel as a 
 whole; and to attempt to analyze the impression thus 
 conveyed at once to soul and sense, is as if while hang- 
 ing over a half-blown rose, and revelling in its intoxi- 
 cating perfume, we should pull it asunder, leaflet by 
 leaflet, the better to display its bloom and fragrance. 
 . . . All Shakspeare's women, being essentially 
 women, either love or have loved, or are capable of 
 loving ; but Juliet is love itself. The passion is her state 
 of being, and out of it she has no existence. It is the 
 soul within her soul; the pulse within her heart; the 
 life-blood along her veins, " blending with every atom 
 of her frame." The love that is so chaste and dignified 
 in Portia — so airy-delicate and fearless in Miranda — so 
 sweetly confiding in Perdita — so playfully fond in Rosa- 
 lind — so constant in Imogen — so devoted in Desdemona 
 — so fervent in Helen — so tender in Viola — is each and 
 all of these in Juliet. . . . 
 
 In the delineation of that sentiment which forms the 
 groundwork of the drama, nothing in fact can equal the 
 power of the picture but its inexpressible sweetness and 
 its perfect grace: the passion which has taken possession 
 of Juliet's whole soul has the force, the rapidity, the 
 resistless violence of the torrent; but she is herself as 
 
 14
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 " moving" delicate," as fair, as soft, as flexible as the 
 willow that bends over it, whose light leaves tremble 
 even with the motion of the current which hurries be- 
 neath them. But at the same time that the pervading- 
 sentiment is never lost sight of, and is one and the same 
 throughout, the individual part of the character in all 
 its variety is developed, and marked with the nicest 
 discrimination. For instance, the simplicity of Juliet is 
 very different from the simplicity of Miranda; her inno- 
 cence is not the innocence of a desert island. The en- 
 ergy she displays does not once remind us of the moral 
 grandeur of Isabel, or the intellectual power of Portia; 
 it is founded in the strength of passion, not in the 
 strength of character; it is accidental rather than in- 
 herent, rising with the tide of feeling or temper, and 
 with it subsiding. Her romance is not the pastoral 
 romance of Perdita, nor the fanciful romance of Viola; 
 it is the romance of a tender heart and a poetical imag- 
 ination. Her inexperience is not ignorance; she has 
 heard that there is such a thing as falsehood, though she 
 can scarcely conceive it. Her mother and her nurse 
 have perhaps warned her against flattering vows and 
 man's inconstancy. . . . Our impression of Juliet's 
 loveliness and sensibility is enhanced, when we find it 
 overcoming m the bosom of Romeo a previous love 
 for another. His visionary passion for the cold, inac- 
 cessible Rosaline, forms but the prologue, the threshold, 
 to the true, the real sentiment which succeeds to it» 
 This incident, which is found in the original story, has 
 been retained by Shakspeare with equal feeling and 
 judgement; and far from being a fault in taste and sen- 
 timent, far from prejudicing us against Romeo, by cast- 
 ing on him, at the outset of the piece, the stigma of 
 inconstancy, it becomes, if properly considered, a beauty 
 in the drama, and adds a fresh stroke of truth to the por- 
 trait of the lover. Why, after all, should we be offended 
 at what does not offend Juliet herself? for in the original 
 story we find that her attention is first attracted towards 
 
 15
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Romeo, by seeing him " fancy-sick and pale of cheer," 
 for love of a cold beauty. . . . 
 
 In the extreme vivacity of her imagination, and its 
 influence upon the action, the language, the sentiments 
 of the drama, Juliet resembles Portia ; but with this 
 striking difference. In Portia, the imaginative power, 
 though developed in a high degree, is so equally blended 
 with the other intellectual and moral faculties, that it 
 does not give us the idea of excess. It is subject to her 
 nobler reason; it adorns and heightens all her feelings; 
 it does not overwhelm or mislead them. In Juliet, it is 
 rather a part of her southern temperament, controlling 
 and modifying the rest of her character; springing from 
 her sensibility, hurried along by her passions, animating 
 her joys, darkening her sorrows, exaggerating her ter- 
 rors, and, in the end, overpowering her reason. With 
 Juliet, imagination is, in the first instance, if not the 
 source, the medium of passion ; and passion again kindles 
 her imagination. It is through the power of imagination 
 that the eloquence of Juliet is so vividly poetical; that 
 every feeling, every sentiment comes to her clothed in 
 the richest imagery, and is thus reflected from her mind 
 to ours. The poetry is not here the mere adornment, 
 the outward garnishing of the character; but its result, 
 or rather blended with its essence. It is indivisible from 
 it, and interfused through it like moonlight through the 
 summer air. To particularize is almost impossible, since 
 the whole of the dialogue appropriated to JuHet is one 
 rich stream of imagery. . . . 
 
 The famous soliloquy, " Gallop apace, ye fiery-footed 
 steeds," teems with luxuriant imagery. The fond ad- 
 juration, ''Come night! come Romeo! come thou day in 
 night ! " expresses that fulness of enthusiastic admiration 
 for her lover, which possesses her whole soul; but ex- 
 presses it as only Juliet could or would have expressed 
 it — in a bold and beautiful metaphor. Let it be remem- 
 bered that in this speech Juliet is not supposed to be 
 addressing an audience, nor even a confidante; and I 
 
 i6
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 confess I have been shocked at the utter want of taste 
 and refinement in those who, with coarse derision, or 
 in a spirit of prudery, yet more gross and perverse, have 
 dared to comment on this beautiful " Hymn to the 
 Night," breathed out by Juhet in the silence and soHtude 
 of her chamber. She is thinking aloud; it is the young 
 heart " triumphing to itself in words." In the midst of 
 all the vehemence with which she calls upon the night 
 to bring Romeo to her arms, there is something so 
 almost infantine in her perfect simplicity, so playful and 
 fantastic in the imagery and language, that the charm 
 of sentiment and innocence is thrown over the whole; 
 and her impatience, to use her own expression, is truly 
 that of " a child before a festival, that hath new robes 
 and may not wear them." It is at the very moment too 
 that her whole heart and fancy are abandoned to blissful 
 anticipation, that the nurse enters with the news of 
 Romeo's banishment; and the immediate transition from 
 rapture to despair has a most powerful efTect. . . . 
 
 It is in truth a tale of love and sorrow, not of anguish 
 and terror. We behold the catastrophe afar off with 
 scarcely a wish to avert it. Romeo and Juliet must die; 
 their destiny is fulfilled; they have quaffed off the cup 
 of life, with all its infinite of joys and agonies, in one 
 intoxicating draught. What have they to do more upon 
 this earth? Young, innocent, loving and beloved, they 
 descend together into the tomb ; but Shakspeare has 
 made that tomb a shrine of martyred and sainted affec- 
 tion consecrated for the worship of all hearts — not a 
 dark charnel vault, haunted by spectres of pain, rage, 
 and desperation. Romeo and Juliet are pictured lovely 
 in death as in life; the sympathy they inspire does not 
 oppress us with that suffocating sense of horror which in 
 the altered tragedy makes the fall of the curtain a rehef ; 
 but all pain is lost in the tenderness and poetic beauty 
 of the picture. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson : Characteristics of Women, 
 
 17
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 V. 
 
 Mercutio. 
 
 These few lines contain all that Arthur Brooke pro- 
 vides in the way of suggestion of the character of Mer- 
 cutio — effectually nothing — the scene is the hall: — 
 
 " At th' one side of her chair her lover Romeo, 
 And on the other side there sate one called Mercutio; 
 A courtier that each where was highly had in price, 
 For he was courteous of his speech and pleasant of device; 
 Even as a lion would among the lambs be bold, 
 Such was among the bashful maids Mercutio to behold. 
 With friendly gripe he seized fair Juliet's snowish hand — 
 A gift he had that nature gave him in his swathing-band, 
 That frozen mountain ice was never half so cold 
 As were his hands, though near the fire he did them hold." 
 
 Thus far, however, the contrast with the grasp of Ro- 
 meo is continued in the play, that jNIercutio is the most 
 decided foil to his more refined and delicately gifted 
 spirit. In vivacity and liveliness he may be his equal, 
 and he is endowed with an aptness for excitement and 
 a flow of fantastic associations that, in the absence of 
 sentiment, are the first though insufficient conditions of 
 poetical invention; but his fancy tends to be overborne 
 by fluency as his mirth by boisterousness ; he is a gay 
 companion and a ready partisan, but lax not to the verge 
 but to the very limits of coarseness in his talk. It is 
 this very characteristic that renders him indispensable, 
 for such things are, and only by admitting a glimpse 
 of them can art define their opposites, and if Mercutio, 
 on the one side, and the old nurse, on the other, are to 
 be tongue-tied where they would talk most willingly 
 and freely, a glory will fade from the angel brightness of 
 Juliet and the graceful sprightliness of Romeo, and the 
 very ardour of their wishes run the risk of degradation 
 by the withdrawal of a background necessary for guiding 
 to the true scale of intervals and intensities from best 
 
 i8
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 to worst. Even Tybalt himself is scarcely so gratuitous 
 a brawler as Mercutio, but he lends a dignity to his vic- 
 tim by the contrast of entire destitution of finer accom- 
 plishments; he is a mere type of practised aptness for 
 feuds and animosities. Mercutfo draws from himself in 
 his jesting imputation of quarrelsomeness to Benvolio, 
 and there is a spirit of prophecy in his words that if 
 there were two such there would be speedily none — ful- 
 filled when his slayer Tybalt himself so soon is slain. 
 Lloyd : Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 In the fourth scene we have Mercutio introduced to us. 
 O ! how shall I describe that exquisite ebullience and over- 
 flow of youthful life, wafted on over the laughing waves 
 of pleasure and prosperity, as a wanton beauty that 
 distorts the face on which she knows her lover is gazing 
 enraptured, and wrinkles her forehead in the triumph of 
 its smoothness! Wit ever wakeful, fancy busy and pro- 
 creative as an insect, courage, an easy mind that, without 
 cares of its own, is at once disposed to laugh away those 
 of others, and yet to be interested in them — these and 
 all congenial qualities, melting into the common copula 
 of them all, the man of rank and the gentleman, with 
 all its excellences and all its weaknesses, constitute the 
 character of Mercutio! 
 
 Coleridge : Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare. 
 
 VL 
 
 The Nurse. 
 
 The Nurse is in some respects another edition of Mrs. 
 Quickly, though in a different binding. The character 
 has a tone of reality that almost startles us on a first 
 acquaintance. She gives the impression of a literal 
 transcript from actual life; which is doubtless owing in 
 part to the predominance of memory in her mind, causing 
 
 19
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 her to think and speak of thmgs just as they occurred; 
 as in her account of Juhet's age, where she cannot go 
 on without bringing in all the accidents and imperti- 
 nences which stand associated with the subject. And she 
 has a way of repeating the same thing in the same words, 
 so that it strikes us as a fact cleaving to her thoughts, 
 and exercising a sort of fascination over them : it seems 
 scarce possible that any but a real person should be so 
 enslaved to actual events. 
 
 This general passiveness to what is going on about 
 her naturally makes her whole character '' smell of the 
 shop." And she has a certain vulgarized air of rank 
 and refinement, as if, priding herself on the confidence of 
 her superiors, she had caught and assimilated their 
 manners to her own vulgar nature. In this mixture of 
 refinement and vulgarity, both elements are made the 
 worse for being together; for, like all those who ape 
 their betters, she exaggerates whatever she copies; or, 
 borrowing the proprieties of those above her, she turns 
 them into their opposite, because she has no sense of 
 propriety. Without a particle of truth, or honour, or 
 delicacy; one to whom life has no sacredness, virtue no 
 beauty, love no holiness ; a woman, in short, without 
 womanhood; she abounds, however, in serviceable qual- 
 ities; has just that low servile prudence which at once 
 fits her to be an instrument, and makes her proud to 
 be used as such. Yet she acts not so much from a 
 positive disregard of right as from a lethargy of con- 
 science; or as if her soul had run itself into a sort of 
 moral dry-rot through a leak at the mouth. 
 
 Accordingly, in her basest acts she never dreams but 
 that she is a pattern of virtue. And because she is thus 
 unconscious and, as it were, innocent of her own vices, 
 therefore Juliet thinks her free from them, and suspects 
 not but that beneath her petulant vulgar loquacity she 
 has a vein of womanly honour and sensibility. For she 
 has, in her way, a real affection for Juliet; whatsoever 
 would give pleasure to herself, that she will do anything 
 
 ao
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 to compass for her young mistress; and, until love and 
 marriage become the question, there has never been 
 anything to disclose the essential oppugnancy of their 
 natures. When, however, in her noble agony, Juliet 
 appeals to the Nurse for counsel, and is met with the 
 advice to marry Paris, she sees at once what her soul is 
 made of; that her former praises of Romeo were but 
 the offspring of a sensual pruriency easing itself with 
 talk; that in her long life she has gained only that sort 
 of experience which works the debasement of its pos- 
 sessor; and that she knows less than nothing of love 
 and marriage, becatise she has worn their prerogatives 
 without any feeling of their sacredness. 
 
 Hudson : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 VII. 
 Friar Laurence. 
 
 Friar Laurence is full of goodness and natural piety, 
 a monk such as Spinoza or Goethe would have loved, 
 an undogmatic sage, with the astuteness and benevolent 
 Jesuitism of an old confessor — brought up on the milk 
 and bread of philosophy, not on the fiery liquors of 
 religious fanaticism. 
 
 It is very characteristic of the freedom of spirit which 
 Shakespeare early acquired, in the sphere in which free- 
 dom was then hardest of attainment, that this monk is 
 drawn with so delicate a touch, without the smallest ill- 
 will towards conquered Catholicism, yet without the 
 smallest leaning towards Catholic doctrine — the eman- 
 cipated creation of an emancipated poet. The Poet here 
 rises immeasurably above his original, Arthur Brooke, 
 who, in his naively moralising "Address to the Reader," 
 makes the Catholic religion mainly responsible for the 
 impatient passion of Romeo and Juliet and the disasters 
 which result from it. 
 
 21
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 It would be to misunderstand the whole spirit of the 
 play if we were to reproach Friar Laurence with the not 
 only romantic but preposterous nature of the means he 
 adopts to help the lovers — the sleeping-potion adminis- 
 tered to Juliet. This Shakespeare simply accepted from 
 his original, with his usual indifference to external detail. 
 
 The Poet has placed in the mouth of Friar Laurence a 
 tranquil Hfe-philosophy, which he first expresses in gen- 
 eral terms, and then appHes to the case of the lovers. 
 He enters his cell with a basket full of herbs from the 
 garden. Some of them have curative properties, others 
 contain death-dealing juices; a plant which has a sweet 
 and salutary smell may be poisonous to the taste; for 
 good and evil are but two sides to the same thing (IL 
 iii.):- 
 
 " Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied. 
 And vice sometimes 's by action dignified. 
 Within the infant rind of this sweet flower 
 Poison hath residence, and medicine power : 
 For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part ; 
 Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. 
 Two such opposed kmgs encamp them still 
 In man as well as herbs, — grace, and rude will ; 
 And where the worser is predominant, 
 Full soon the canker death eats up that plant." 
 
 When Romeo, immediately before the marriage, de- 
 fies sorrow and death in the speech beginning (II. vi.) : — 
 
 " Amen, Amen ! but come what sorrow can. 
 It cannot countervail the exchange of joy 
 That one short minute gives me in her sight," 
 
 Laurence seizes the opportunity to apply his view of 
 life. He fears this« overflowing flood-tide of happiness, 
 and expounds his philosophy of the golden mean — that 
 wisdom of old age which is summed up in the cautious 
 maxim, *' Love me httle, love me long." Here it is that 
 he utters the above-quoted words as to the violent ends 
 
 22
 
 R0M£0 and JULIET Comments 
 
 ensuing on violent delights, like the mutual destruction 
 wrought by the kiss of fire and gunpowder. 
 
 Brandes : William Shakespeare. 
 
 VIII. 
 Paris. 
 
 Some critics have thought the good Friar a herald of 
 the Poet's intentions, through whose mouth Shakspeare 
 is supposed to inform us that his poem is by no means a 
 '* hymn of praise," a *' deification " of love, but on the 
 contrary, that it is meant to show us that love is only' 
 a " happy intoxication," only a " flower liked for its 
 sweet smell, the poison of which, when taken as food, 
 will work fatally upon the heart." , . . 
 
 The intention, attributed to Shakspeare, is rather to be 
 found in the character of Count Paris. It has been 
 asked, what need is there, at all, for Count Paris and his 
 love affair, and more particularly for the fight between 
 him and Romeo? It js said that his death by the hand 
 of the latter is obvid£fely quite superfluous, wanting in 
 motive, and as meaningless as a mere sensational scene. 
 In answer to this it might at once be said, that nothing 
 is superfluous that gives a clearer insight into the charac- 
 ter of the principal hero, and that it must continue to be 
 more fully and definitely unfolded throughout all the 
 incidents of the action. But the chief reason for the 
 death of the calm, cold, prosaic Count lies in his flat, 
 dull and heartless conception of love, in his purposing 
 to bargain with the parents for the beauty and amiability 
 of their daughter — without first consulting the inclina- 
 tions of her heart — in consideration of his rank, position 
 and untried virtue. This is why the divine power of 
 love, as it were, takes its revenge upon him; his manner 
 of loving, therefore, forms the organic contrast of Ro- 
 meo's and Juliet's passion; his fate is meant to show us 
 that the Poet, in representing the tragic fate of the great, 
 
 23
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 beautiful and poetic passion, had no idea of speaking in 
 behalf of common prose. 
 
 Ulrici : Shakspearc's Dramatic Art. 
 
 IX. 
 Tybalt. 
 
 Tybalt is the evil genius of discord set over against 
 Romeo, the loving and the beloved. In the poem, Tyb- 
 alt does not, as in the play, figure at the masquerade: 
 he is not even alluded to as being there. In the poem, 
 a month or twain after the marriage of the lovers, which 
 has been kept a secret, he attacks Romeo when the latter 
 attempts to allay the strife, simply because he is a Mon- 
 tague, not from any special offence. But in the play, 
 Tybalt, previous to his fatal encounter with Romeo, is 
 specially enraged against him, for his bold and, as he 
 regards it, insulting intrusion at the masquerade. . . . 
 
 In the play, the heat of the day on which Romeo and 
 Juliet are married is not yet over, when Tybalt, brooding 
 upon the insult conceived the prions night at the ball, 
 meets with Romeo's friends, i^rcutio and Benvolio 
 (III. i. 40). The personal encounter which soon fol- 
 lows takes the place of the general fray we have in the 
 poem, a month or twain after the marriage. In com- 
 paring the play with the poem, we are helped to see, but 
 it is plain to see without such outside help, at what spe- 
 cial pains, pains which have gone for nothing with some 
 commentators, the Poet was, to exhibit the sweetly 
 gentle character of Romeo (and he has a true manly 
 valor, withal; he's no coward), and perfectly to justify 
 his slaying of Tybalt. There's not the slightest rash- 
 ness in the act. What he does he does when forbearance 
 ceases to be a virtue. . . . Romeo has patiently en- 
 dured Tybalt's treatment of himself, by reason of his mar- 
 riage with Juliet, his love for her being reflected upon her 
 kinsman; but when his friend Mercutio is slain in his 
 
 24
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 behalf, and the furious Tybalt comes back again, he 
 exclaims: "Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain! 
 Away to heaven, respective lenity " (that is, the lenity he 
 has thus far shown, out of regard to his relationship to 
 Tybalt, by his marriage with Juliet), " and fire-eyed fury 
 be my conduct now" (that is, conductor or guide)! 
 "Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, that late thou 
 gavest me." 
 Corson : An Introduction to the Study of Shakespeare, 
 
 X. 
 
 The Tragedy of Love. 
 
 What can be more truthful than the love of Romeo 
 and Juliet, so young, so ardent, so unreflecting, full 
 at once of physical passion and of moral ten- 
 derness, without restraint, and yet without coarse- 
 ness, because delicacy of heart ever combines with the 
 transports of the senses ! There, is nothing subtle or 
 factitious in it, and nothing cleverly arranged by the 
 Poet; it is neither the pure love of piously exalted imag- 
 inations, nor the licentious love of palled and perverted 
 lives; it is love itself — love complete, involuntary and 
 sovereign, as it bursts forth in early youth, in the heart 
 of man, at once simple and diverse, as God made it. 
 Romeo and Juliet is truly the tragedy of love, as Othello 
 is that of jealousy, and Macbeth that of ambition. . . . 
 Wherever they are not disfigured by conceits, the lines 
 in Romeo and Juliet are perhaps the most graceful and 
 brilliant that ever flowed from Shakspeare's pen. 
 
 Guizot; Shakspeare and His Times. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet is a picture of love and its pitiable fate, 
 in a world whose atmosphere is too sharp for this the 
 tenderest blossom of human life. Two beings created 
 for each other feel mutual love at the first glance; every 
 
 25
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 consideration disappears before the irresistible impulse 
 to live in one another. . . . They unite themselves 
 by a secret marriage, under circumstances in the highest 
 degree hostile to their union, relying simply on the pro- 
 tection of an invisible power. By unfriendly events, 
 following blow upon blow, their heroic constancy is 
 exposed to all manner of trials, till, forcibly separated 
 from each other, they are united in the grave to meet 
 again in another world. 
 
 All this is to be found in the beautiful story which 
 Shakespeare has not invented, and which, however sim- 
 ply told, will always excite a tender sympathy ; but it was 
 reserved for Shakespeare to unite purity of heart and the 
 glow of imagination, sweetness and dignity of manners, 
 and passionate violence, in one ideal picture. Under 
 his handling, it has become a glorious song of praise on 
 that inexpressible feehng which ennobles the soul and 
 gives to it its highest sublimity, and which elevates even 
 the senses into soul, while at the same time it is a 
 melancholy elegy on*its inherent and imparted frailty; 
 it is at once the apotheosis and the funeral of love. It 
 appears here a heavenly spark that, descending to the 
 earth, is converted into a lightning-flash, by which the 
 mortal being whom it strikes is almost in the same 
 moment set on fire and consumed. 
 
 All that is most intoxicating in the odour of a southern 
 spring, all that is languishing in the song of the nightin- 
 gale, or voluptuous in the first opening of the rose, 
 breathes forth from this poem. But even more rapidly 
 than the earliest blossoms of youth and beauty decay, 
 does it from the first timidly-bold declaration and modest 
 return of love hurry on to the most unlimited passion, 
 to an irrevocable union ; and then hastens, amidst alter- 
 nating storms of rapture and despair, to the fate of the 
 two lovers, who still appear enviable in their hard lot, for 
 their love survives them, and by their death they have 
 obtained an endless triumph over every separating power. 
 
 ScHLEGEL : Lectures on Dramatic Art and Literature, 
 
 26
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 In the hands of previous tellers the story had gathered 
 one after another the motley figures which compose this 
 alien milieu: — Bandello's Benvolio with his temperate 
 counsels against love; Brooke's Nurse, with her vulgar 
 parody of it; and now Shakespeare's Mercutio, trans- 
 •fixing love with the shafts of his cynical and reckless 
 wit, a gayer but not less effective negation of romance. 
 But Shakespeare has made the other negations of calm 
 reason and of Philistine grossness sharper and even more 
 decisive than he found them. The Nurse, the Capulet 
 father and mother, are all recognisable in Brooke: 
 Shakespeare alone makes us feel the tragic loneliness of 
 Juliet in their midst; and that not less by his ruthless 
 insistence on every mean and vulgar trait in them, than 
 by the flamelike purity and intensity in which he has 
 invested Juliet herself. Brooke's Juliet is a conventional 
 heroine of romance, distinguished from other heroines 
 only by the particular cast of her experiences, and not 
 palpably superior to her father, whose unreason even 
 acquires from Brooke's rhetoric a certain Roman dig- 
 nity of invective. Shakespeare's Juhet resembles an 
 ideal creation of Raphael or Lionardo environed in the 
 bustling domestic scenery, the Flemish plenty and prose, 
 of Teniers or Ostade. We are spared no poignancy of 
 contrast. The last rich cadences of the lovers' dawn- 
 song die into the bluster of old Capulet; and Juhet's 
 sublime "Romeo, I come!" is immediately succeeded 
 by the rattling of keys and dishes, and cooks calling for 
 dates and quinces in the " pastry." 
 
 Thus Shakespeare at once heightened the tragic an- 
 tagonism of Romeo and Juliet's world and the lyric 
 fervour of passion which sweeps them athwart it. The 
 entire weight of the tragic effect is thrown upon the 
 clashing dissonance of the human elements. In this 
 earliest of the tragedies, alone among them all, there is 
 no guilt, no deliberate contriving of harm. Far from 
 suggesting a moral, Shakespeare seems to contemplate 
 with a kind of fatalist awe the mixture of elements from 
 
 27
 
 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 which so profound a convulsion ensues. He eliminates 
 every pretext for regarding the catastrophe as a retribu- 
 tion upon the lovers. Their love violates no moral law: 
 it springs imperiously from their youth, and Shakespeare 
 has here significantly gone beyond his source and en- 
 dowed his Juliet with the single-souled girlhood of four- 
 teen; neither of them dreams of any illicit union, and 
 their marriage runs counter only to the unnatural feud 
 between their houses. The chief agent in their tragic 
 doom is the one wise and actively benign character in 
 the play. The imposing figure of Friar Laurence, so 
 clearly congenial to the Poet, has tempted some critics, 
 like Gervinus and Kreyssig, to regard him as a chorus. 
 Juliet's glorious womanhood is the creation of 
 her love; Romeo, a weaker nature, retains more infir- 
 mity, yet he too stands out in heroic stature against the 
 suitor par convenance, Paris, and the quondam wooer of 
 Rosalinde. It is easy to dwell upon his despair at ban- 
 ishment, his fatal errors of judgement, as when he fails 
 to suspect Hfe in JuHet's still warm and rosy form. But 
 to suppose that he is unmanned by his love of JuUet 
 contradicts the whole tenour of Shakespeare's implicit 
 teaching. Passion for a Cressida or a Cleopatra saps 
 the nerve of Troilus and Antony ; but nowhere does 
 Shakespeare represent a man as made less manly by abso- 
 lute soul-service of a true woman: rather, this was a con- 
 dition of that " marriage of true minds " to which, in his 
 loftiest sonnet, he refused to '' admit impediments." 
 
 Herford : The Eversley Shakespeare. 
 
 Shakespeare did not intend to represent more than a 
 fragment of human life in the tragedy. He did not aim 
 at a criticism of the whole of human character; he cared 
 to show us his hero and his heroine only as lovers, and 
 as exemplary in the perfection of their love; faithful 
 even unto death; choosing, with a final election of the 
 heart, love at all costs. Here is no view of the whole of 
 
 28
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Comments 
 
 life; we are shown merely what befell a young pair of 
 lovers during four days long ago in Verona. But 
 Shakespeare felt, and we all feel, that if such love as theirs 
 can be taken up into a complete character, modified and 
 controlled by the other noble qualities which go to form 
 a large and generous nature, the world will be the better 
 for such pure and sacred passion. Such, it appears to 
 me, are the ethics of the play. 
 
 And the personages by whom the lovers are encircled 
 are so conceived as to become the critics of ideal love 
 from their several points of view, honouring and exalting 
 it by the inadequacy of their criticism. To old Capulet, 
 in his mood, it seems that the passions of the heart are 
 to be determined by parental authority. To Lady Capu- 
 let marriage is an alYair of wordly convenience. To the 
 Nurse it is the satisfaction of a pleasurable instinct. 
 Mercutio, a gallant friend, is too brilliant in his intellec- 
 tuality to be capable of a passion in which the heart 
 shows that it is superior to the brain; he mocks at love, 
 not because he really scorns it, but because he is remote 
 from it, and cherishes before all else his free-lance liberty. 
 The Friar views human passion from the quietudes of 
 the cloister, or from amid the morning dew of the fields; 
 but botany is not the science of human life. Even 
 Romeo's earlier self, with his amorous melancholy, be- 
 comes the critic of his later self, when a true and final 
 election has been made, and when love has become the 
 risen sun of his day. As for Juliet, her words — 
 
 My bounty is as boundless as the sea, 
 My love as deep ; the more I give to thee, 
 The more I have, for both are infinite, 
 
 may serve for an inscription beneath that statue of pure 
 gold of which Shakespeare was the artist. 
 
 DowDEN : Romeo and Juliet, 
 
 29
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 EscALUS, prince of Verona. 
 
 Paris, a young nobleman, kinsman to the prince. 
 
 Montague, "1 heads of two houses at variance with each 
 
 Capulet, J other. 
 
 An old man, of the Capulet family. 
 
 Romeo, son to Montague. 
 
 Mercutio, kinsman to the prince, and friend to Romeo. 
 
 Benvolio, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo. 
 
 Tybalt, nephew to Lady Capulet. 
 
 Friar Laurence, a Franciscan. 
 
 Friar John, of the same order. 
 
 Balthasar, servant to Romeo. 
 
 Sampson, ) ^ 
 
 ^ >■ servants to Capulet. 
 
 Gregory, ) 
 
 Peter, servant to Juliet's nurse. 
 
 Abraham, servant to Montague. 
 
 An Apothecary. 
 
 Three Musicians. 
 
 Page to Paris; another Page; an Officer. 
 
 Lady Montague, wife to Montague. 
 Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet. 
 Juliet, daughter to Capulet. 
 Nurse to Juliet. 
 
 Citizens of Verona; kinsfolk of both houses; Maskers, Guards, 
 Watchmen, and Attendants. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Scene: Verona; Mantua. 
 
 30
 
 The Tragedy of 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 The Prologue. 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chor. Two households, both aUke in dignity, 
 
 In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, 
 From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, 
 
 Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. 
 From forth the fatal loins of these two foes 
 
 A pair of star-cros s 'd lovers take their life ; 
 Whose misadventured piteous overthrows 
 
 Do with their death bury their parents' strife. 
 The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, 
 
 And the continuance of their parents' rage, lo 
 
 Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, 
 
 Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage ; 
 The which if you with patient ears attend, 
 W^hat here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Verona. A public place. 
 
 Enter Sampson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet, 
 
 zvith szvords and bucklers. ri , « ^ 
 
 Sam. Gregory, on my word, we '11 not carry_coals. 
 Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. 
 Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we '11 draw. 
 
 31
 
 Act 1. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Gre. Ay, while 3rou live, draw your neck out o' the collar. 
 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 is to stand : 
 
 therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st awav. 
 Sam. A dog of that hou^e shall move me to stand: lo 
 
 I will take the wallJ of any man or maid of 
 
 Montague's. 
 Gre. That shows thee a w^eak slave ; for the weakest 
 
 goes to the wall. 
 Sam. 'Tis 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. 20 
 
 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 maiden- 
 heads ; take it in what sense thou wilt. 
 Gi-e. They must take in sense that feel it. 
 Samr. 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 30 
 
 hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here 
 
 comes two of the house of ]\Iontagues. 
 
 Enter Abraham and Balthasar. 
 
 Sam. My naked weapon is out : quarrel ; I will back 
 thee. 
 
 32
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 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. 40 
 
 Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at 
 
 them; which is a disgrace to them, if they 
 
 bear it. 
 Ahr, Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? 
 Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir. 
 Ahr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? 
 Sam. [Aside to Ore] Is the law of our side, if I say ay ? 
 Gre. No. 
 Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; 
 
 but I bite my thumb, sir. 50 
 
 Gre. Do you quarrel, sir ? 
 Abr. Quarrel, sir! no, sir. 
 Sam. But if you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as 
 
 good a man as you. 
 Abr. No better. 
 Sam. Well, sir. 
 
 Enter Benvolio. 
 
 // 
 
 Gre. [Aside tc Sam.] Say ' better ' : here comes one 
 
 of my master's kinsmen. 
 Sam. Yes, better, sir. 
 Abr. You lie. 60 
 
 Sam. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy 
 
 swashing blow. [They fight. 
 
 Ben. Part, fools ! [Beating down their zveapons. 
 
 Put up your swords ; you know not what you do.
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Enter Tybalt. 
 
 Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds ? 
 
 Turn thee, BenvoHo, look upon thy death. 
 Ben. I do but keep the peace : put up thy sword. 
 
 Or manage it to part these men with me. 
 Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace ! I hate the word,- 
 
 As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee : 70 
 
 Have at thee, coward ! [They fight. 
 
 Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then 
 enter Citizens^ and Peace-officers, zvith clubs^ ^ j 
 
 First Off. Clubs, DuTs/an'J partisans !' strike! bea^Tmem' 
 down! '" ifij^^/jLdk. 
 
 Down with the Capulets ! down with the Montagues ! 
 
 Enter old Capidet in his gozvn, and Lady Capidet. 
 
 Cap. What noise is this ? Give me my long sword, ho ! 
 La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch ! why call you for a sword ? 
 Cap. My sword, I say ! Old Montague is come, 
 And flourishes his blade in spite of me. 
 
 Enter old Montague and Lady Montague, 
 
 Mon. Thou villain Capulet ! — Hold me not, let me go. 
 La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. 
 
 Enter Prince Escalus, with his train. 
 
 Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, 80 
 
 Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel, — 
 Will they not hear ? What, ho ! you men, you beasts, 
 That quench the fire of your pernicious rage 
 With purple fountains issuing from your veins, 
 
 34
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 On pain of torture, from those bloody hands 
 
 Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, 
 
 And hear the sentence of your moved prince. 
 
 Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, 
 
 By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, 
 
 Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, 90 
 
 And made Verona's ancient citizens 
 
 Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments. 
 
 To wield old partisans, in hands as old, 
 
 Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: 
 
 If ever you disturb our streets again. 
 
 Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. 
 
 For this time, all the rest depart away : 
 
 You, Capulet, shall go along with me ; 
 
 And, Montague, come you this afternoon. 
 
 To know our farther pleasure in this case, 100 
 
 To old Free-town, our common judgement-place. 
 
 Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, 
 and Benvolio. 
 
 Man. Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? 
 Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? 
 
 Ben, Here were the servants of our adversary 
 And yours close fighting ere I did approach : 
 . I drew to part them : in the instant came 
 The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared ; 
 Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears. 
 He swung about his head, and cut the winds, 1 10 
 Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn : 
 While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, 
 Came more and more, and fought on part and part, 
 Till the prince came, who parted eithe^ part. 
 
 35
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 La. Mon. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? 
 Right glad I am he was not at this fray. 
 
 Ben, Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun 
 Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, 
 A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad ; 
 Where, underneath the grove of sycamore T20 
 
 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 atfecHons by my own. 
 Which then most sought where most might not be 
 
 found, 
 Being one too many by my weary self. 
 Pursued my humour, not pursuing his. 
 And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. 
 
 Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, 130 
 
 With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew. 
 Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs : 
 But alFso soon as the all-cheering sun 
 Should in the farthest 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 portentous must this humour prove, 140 
 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 im.portuned him by any means? 
 
 Mon. Both by myself and many other friends : 
 
 Z6
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 But he, his own affections' counsellor, 
 
 Is to himself — I will not say how true — 
 
 But to himself so secret and so close. 
 
 So far from sounding and discovery, 
 
 As is the bud bit with an envious worm, 150 
 
 Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, 
 
 Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. 
 
 Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, 
 
 We would as willingly give cure as know. 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Ben. See, where he comes : so please you step aside, 
 
 I '11 know his grievance, or be much denied. 
 Man. 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. 
 Ronv. Ay me ! sad hours seem long. 
 
 Was that my father that went hence so fast? 161 
 Ben. It w^as. W^hat sadness lengthens Romeo's hours ? 
 Rom. Not having that which, having, makes them short. 
 Ben. In love? 
 Rom. Out — 
 Ben. Of love? 
 
 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, 170 
 
 Should without eyes see pathways to his will ! 
 
 Where shall we dine ? O me ! What fray was here ? 
 
 Z7
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 
 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 create ! 
 
 O heavy lightness ! serious vanity ! 
 
 Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! 
 
 Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health ! 
 
 Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! i8o 
 
 This love feel I, that feel no love in this. 
 
 Dost thou not laugh? 
 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. 
 
 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 hast shown 
 
 Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. 
 
 Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs ; 
 
 Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes ; 190 
 
 Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears : 
 
 What is it else? a madness most discreet, 
 
 A choking gall and a preserving sweet. 
 
 Farewell, my coz. ' 
 
 Ben, Soft ! I will go along : 
 
 An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. 
 Rom. Tut, I have lost myself ; I am not here ; 
 
 This is not Romeo, he 's some other where. 
 Ben. Tell me in sadness, who is that you love? 
 Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee? 
 Ben. Groan! why, no; 
 
 But sadly tell me who. 200 
 
 38
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 Rom, Bid a sick man in sadness make his will. 
 Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill ! 
 In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. 
 
 Ben, I aim'd so near when I supposed you loved. 
 
 Rom, A right good mark-man ! And she 's fair I love. 
 
 Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. 
 
 Rom. Well, in that hit you miss : she '11 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 unharmM. 
 She will not stay the siege of loving terms, 21 1 
 
 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 chaste ? 
 
 Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste ; 
 For beauty, starved with her severity, 
 Cuts beauty off from all posterity. 
 She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, 220 
 
 To merit bliss by making me despair : 
 She hath forsworn to love ; and in that vow 
 Do I live dead, that live to tell it now. 
 
 Ben. Be ruled 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 : 
 These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows, 
 Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair ; 230 
 He that is strucken blind cannot forget 
 
 39
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 The precious treasure of his eyesight lost : 
 Show me a mistress that is passing fair, 
 What doth her beauty serve but as a note 
 Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair ? 
 Farewell : thou canst not teach me to forget. 
 Ben. I '11 pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. [Exeunt 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 A street. 
 Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. 
 
 Cap. But Montague is bound as well as I, 
 
 In penalty alike ; and 'tis not hard, I think, 
 For men so old as we to keep the peace. 
 
 Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both ; 
 And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. 
 But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? 
 
 Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before : 
 My child is yet a stranger in the world ; 
 She hath not seen the change of fourteen years : 
 Let two more summers wither in their pride lo 
 
 Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. 
 
 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 ea rth : 
 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, 20 
 
 Whereto I have invited many a guest, 
 40
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 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-appareird 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, 30 
 
 And like her most whose merit most shall be : 
 I Which on more view, of many mine being one 
 I May stand in number, though in reckoning none. 
 Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about 
 Through fair Verona; find those persons out 
 Whose names are written there, and to them say, 
 My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. 
 
 [Exeunt Cap 11 let and Paris. 
 Serv. Find them out whose names are written here ! 
 It is written that the shoemaker should meddle 
 with his yard and the tailor with his last, the 40 
 fisher with his pencil and the painter with his 
 nets ; but I am sent to find those persons whose 
 names are here writ, and can never find what 
 names the writing person hath here writ. I 
 must to be learned. In good time. 
 
 Enter Benvolio and Romeo. 
 
 Ben. Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning. 
 
 One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; 
 Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning ; 
 
 One desperate grief cures with another's languish : 
 Take thou some new infection to thy eye, 50 
 
 41
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And the rank poison of the old will die. 
 Rom. Your plantain-leaf is excellent for that. 
 Ben. For what, I pray thee ? 
 
 Rom. For your broken shin. 
 
 Ben. Why, Romeo, art thou mad ? 
 Rom. Not mad, but bound more than a madman is ; 
 
 Shut up in prison, kept without my food, 
 
 Whipt and tormented and — God-den, good fellow. 
 Serv. God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? 
 Rom, Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. 
 Serv, Perhaps you have learned it without book : but, 60 
 
 I pray, can you read anything you see? 
 Rom. Ay, if I know the letters and the language. 
 Serv. Ye say honestly : rest you merry ! 
 Rom. Stay, fellow; I can read. [Reads. 
 
 * Signior Martino and his wife and daughters ; 
 County Anselme and his beauteous sisters ; 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 Rosaline ; Livia ; 70 
 Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio 
 and the lively Helena.' 
 
 A fair assembly : whither should they come ? 
 Serv, Up. 
 Rom. Whither? 
 
 Serv, To supper ; to our house. 
 Rom, Whose house? 
 Serv, My master's. 
 
 Rom, Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. 
 Serv, Now I '11 tell you without asking : my master 80 
 
 42
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. lii. 
 
 is the great rich Capulet ; and if you be not of 
 the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush 
 a cup of wine. Rest you merry ! [Exit. 
 
 Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's 
 Sups the fair RosaUne whom thou so lovest, 
 With all the admired beauties of Verona : 
 Go thither, and with unattainted eye 
 Compare her face with some that I shall show, ^^^j^^^^^^ 
 And I will make thee think thy swan a cro w. a.M'tSiuS* \ ^ 
 
 Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye 90 
 
 Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires ; 
 And these, who, often drown'd, could never die, 
 Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars ! 
 One fairer than my love ! the all-seeing sun 
 Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. 
 
 Ben. Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, 
 Herself poised with herself in either eye : 
 Eut in that crystal scales let there be weigh' d 
 Your lady's love against some other maid, 
 That I will show you shining at this feast, 100 
 
 And she shall scant show well that now seems best. 
 
 Rom. I '11 go along, no such sight to be shown. 
 
 But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A room in Capulet's house. 
 
 Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse. 
 
 La. Cap. Nurse, where 's my daughter ? call her forth to 
 
 me. 
 Nurse. Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, 
 
 43
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 I bade her come. What, lamb ! what, lady-bird ! — 
 God forbid ! — Where 's this girl ? What, Juliet ! 
 
 Enter Juliet. 
 
 Jul. How now ! who calls ? 
 
 Nurse. Your mother. 
 
 Jul. Madam, I am here. What is your will? 
 
 La. Cap. This is the matter. Nurse, give leave awhile, 
 We must talk in secret : — nurse, come back again ; 
 I have remember'd me, thou 's hear our counsel. lo 
 Thou know'st my daughter 's of a pretty age. 
 
 Nurse. Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. 
 
 La. Cap. She 's not fourteen. 
 
 Nurse. I '11 lay fourteen of my teeth, — 
 
 And yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four, — 
 She is not fourteen. How long is it now 
 To Lammas-tide? 
 
 La. Cap. A fortnight and odd days. 
 
 Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year. 
 
 Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. 
 Susan and she — God rest all Christian souls ! — 
 ■ Were of an age : well, Susan is with God ; 20 
 
 She was too good for me : — but, as I said. 
 On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen ; 
 That shall she, marry ; I remember it well. 
 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years ; 
 And she was wean'd, — I never shall forget it — 
 Of all the days of the year, upon that day : 
 For I had then laid wormwood to my dug. 
 Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall ; 
 My lord and you, were then at Mantua: — 
 Nay, I do bear a brain : — but, as I said, 
 
 44
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple 30 
 
 Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool, 
 
 To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug ! 
 
 Shake, quoth the dove-house : 'twas no need, I trow. 
 
 To bid me trudge. 
 
 And since that time it is eleven years ; 
 
 For then she could stand high-lone ; nay, by the food, 
 
 She could have run and waddled all about; 
 
 For even the day before, she broke her brow : 
 
 And then my husband, — God be with his soul ! 
 
 K*H\^as a merry man — took up the child : 40 
 
 ' Yea,' quoth he, ' dost thou fall upon thy face? 
 
 Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit ; 
 
 Wilt thou not, Jule ? ' and, by my holidame, 
 
 The pretty wretch left crying, and said ' Ay/ 
 
 To see now how a jest shall come about! 
 
 I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, 
 
 I never should forget it : * Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth 
 
 he; 
 And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said ' Ay/ 
 
 La. Cap. Enough of this ; I pray thee, hold thy peace. 
 
 Nurse. Yes, madam : yet I cannot choose but laugh, 50 
 To think it should leave crying, and say ' Ay ' : 
 And yet, I warrant, it had upon it brow 
 A bump as big as a young cockerel-'s stone ; 
 A perilous knock ; and it cried bitterly : 
 * Yea,' quoth my husband, ' fall'st upon thy face? 
 Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age ; 
 Wilt thou not, Jule ? ' it stinted, and said ' Ay.' 
 
 Jul. And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. 
 
 Nurse. Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace ! 
 Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed : 60 
 
 45
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 An I might live to see thee married once, 
 I have my wish. 
 
 La. Cap. Marry, that ' marry ' is the very theme 
 I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, 
 How stands your disposition to be married? 
 
 Jul. It is an honour that I dream not of. 
 
 Nurse. An honour ! were not I thine only nurse, 
 
 I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. 
 
 La. Cap. Well, think of marriage now ; younger than you 
 Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, 70 
 
 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 seeks you for his love. 
 
 Nurse. A man, young lady ! lady, such a man 
 As all the world — why, he 's a man of wax. 
 
 La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. 
 
 Nurse. Nay, he 's a flower ; in faith, a very flower. 
 
 La. Cap. What say you ? can you love the gentleman ? 
 This night you shall behold him at our feast : 80 
 
 Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face. 
 And find delight writ there with beauty's pen ; 
 Examine every married lineament. 
 And see how one another leads content ; 
 And what obscured in this fair volume lies 
 Find written in the margent of his eyes. 
 This precious book of love, this unbound lover, 
 To beautify him, only lacks a cover : 
 The fish lives in the sea ; and 'tis much pride 
 For fair without the fair within to hide : 90 
 
 That book in many's eyes doth share the glory. 
 That in gold clasps locks in the golden story : 
 46
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 So shall you share all that he doth possess, 
 By having him making yourself no less. 
 
 Nurse. No less ! nay, bigger : women grow by men. 
 
 La. Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? 
 
 Jul. I '11 look to like, if looking liking move : J 
 
 But no more deep will I endart mine eye 
 Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. | 
 
 Enter a Servingman. 
 
 Serv. Madam, the guests are come, supper served lOO 
 up, you called, my young lady asked for, the 
 nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in 
 extremity. I must hence to wait ; I beseech you, 
 follow straight. 
 La. Cap. We follow thee. [Exit Servingman.'] Juliet, 
 
 the county stays. 
 Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. 
 
 {Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 A street. 
 
 Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with Hve or six 
 other Maskers, and Torch-hearers. 
 
 Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse ? 
 Or shall we on without apology? 
 
 Ben. The date is out of such prolixity : 
 
 We '11 have no Cupid hoodwink'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 : 
 
 47
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 But, let them measure us by what they will, 
 
 We '11 measure them a measure, and be gone. lo 
 
 4j^tD Rom. Give me a torch : I am not for this ambling ; 
 jTMvMf^'' ' Being but heavy, I will bear the light. 
 SLv«i^.«i|^r. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. 
 Oc^^ 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, 
 
 And soar with them above a common bound. 
 Rom. I am too* sore enpierced with his shaft 
 
 To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, 20 
 
 I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe : 
 
 Under love's heavy burthen do I sink. 
 Me7\ And, to sink in it, should you burthen love ; 
 
 Too great oppression for a tender thing. 
 Rom. Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, 
 
 Too rude, too boisterous, 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 : 
 
 A» visor for a visor! what care I 30 
 
 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. 
 Ro7n. 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 '11 be a candle-holder, and look on. 
 
 The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. 
 Mer, Tut, duh 's tlie mouse^ the constable's own word :
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 If thou art dun, we '11 draw thee from the mire 41 
 
 Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou.stick'stj > 
 
 Up to the ears. Come, we burn dayli^iffio.' Y^-o^^ ^y"^* 
 
 Rom. Nay, that 's not so. """'^ ' ^^NX^'in- 
 
 Mer, i mean, sir, m delay ' 
 
 We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. , ^ Kl^-l^ 
 Take our good meaning, for our judgement 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. And so did I. 50 
 
 Rom. Well, what was yours? 
 
 Mer. That dreamers often lie. 
 
 Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true^ 
 
 Mer. O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with youT 
 She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes , ../ . 
 In shape no bigger than an agate-stone^^ ^ '^ ^"^^^^ 4^ i^u^ 
 
 On the fore-finger p£ an alderman, '^jf—- <^^^ ^^— - 
 
 Drawn with a teammttle atomies ^^^ "^ """^ 
 
 Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep : 
 
 Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; 
 
 The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; 60 
 
 Her traces, of the smallest spider's web ; 
 
 Her collars, of the moonshine's watery beams ; 
 
 Her whip of cricket's bone ; the lash, of film ; 
 
 Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat, l^j^^^^xy^ \,o 
 
 Not half so big as a round little worm //.uo-.h^^^.^-^ xVv-o^-t^ 
 
 Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:' "^J^LjoJi QG»-^^^'^*^ 
 
 Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, ^,^slx.jul^^jlsS> u3«sju.-ax^ 
 
 Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, '^ ^^^^ y^^K^ w^- 
 
 49
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. 
 AndrTnTTIiis state she gallops night by night 70 
 
 Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love ; 
 O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight; 
 O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees ; 
 O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, 
 Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues 
 Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are : 
 Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, 
 And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; 
 And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail 
 Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, 80 
 
 Then dreams he of another benefice : 
 Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck. 
 And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats. 
 Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, 
 Of healths five fathom deep ; and then anon 
 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 plats the manes of horses in the night. 
 And bakes the elf-lock in foul sluttish hairs, 90 
 
 Which once untangled much misfortune bodes : 
 This is the hag, wdien maids lie on their backs, 
 That presses them and learns them first to bear, 
 Making them women of good carriage : 
 This is she — 
 
 Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace ! 
 
 Thou talk'st of nothing. 
 
 Mer. True, I talk of dreams ; 
 
 Which are the children of an idle brain. 
 Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, 
 50
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 Which is as thin of substance as the air, 
 
 And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes loo 
 
 Even now the frozen bosom of the north. 
 
 And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence. 
 
 Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. 
 Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves ; 
 
 Supper is done, and we shall come too late. 
 Rom. 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 closed in my breast, I lo 
 
 By some vile forfeit of untimely death : 
 
 But He, that hath the steerage of my course, 
 
 Direct my sail ! On, lusty gentlemen. 
 Ben. Strike, drum. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 A hall in Capulefs house. 
 Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen, with napkins. 
 
 First Serv. Where 's Potpan, that he helps not to take 
 away ? he shift a trencher ! he scrape a trencher ! 
 
 Sec. Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or 
 two men's hands, and they unwashed too, 'tis a 
 
 foul thins:. .- . -LA. '«*--»- 
 
 '=' (V) M^' «i&«^ 
 
 First Serv. Away with the joint-stools, remove the^ S<j37ut*-fl 
 
 "■court-cu^bo^rd, look to the plate. Good thou, ^ ■fAXL^uW- 
 
 save me a piece of marchpane ; and, as thou \ - ^ 
 
 lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone '-*- 
 
 and Nell. Antony, and Potpan! lo , -^ 
 
 Sec. Serv. Ay, boy, ready. ^^^^j^-^ 
 
 51
 
 Act I. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 First Serv. You are looked for and called for, asked 
 for and sought for, in the great chamber. 
 
 Third Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, 
 boys ; be brisk a while, and the longer liver take 
 all. [They retire behind. 
 
 Enter Capnlet, with Juliet and others of his house, 
 meeting the Guests and Maskers. 
 
 Cap, Welcome, gentlemen ! ladies that have their toes 
 Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you : 
 Ah ha, my mistresses ! which of you all 
 Will now deny to dance ? She that rnakes dainty, 20 
 She, I '11 swear, hath corns; am I come'TieaKye 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 : 
 You are welcome, gentlemen ! Come, musicians, play. 
 A hall, a hall ! give room ! and foot it, girls. 
 
 [Music plays, and they dance. 
 More Hght, 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. 30 
 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 ? 
 
 Sec. Cap. By 'r lady, thirty years. 
 
 Cap. What, man ! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much : 
 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, 
 Come Pentecost as quickly as it Will, 
 . Some five and twenty years ; and then we mask'd. 
 
 52
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 Sec. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more : his son is elder, sir ; 
 
 His son is thirty. 
 Cap. Will you tell me that? 40 
 
 His son was but a ward two years ago. 
 Rom, [To a Serz'ingman] What lady's that, which doth 
 enrich the hand 
 
 Of yonder knight? 
 Sen/. I know not, sir. 
 Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright ! 
 
 It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night 
 
 Like 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. 50 
 
 The measure done, I '11 watch her place of stand, 
 
 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. 
 Tyb. This, by his voice, should be a Montague. 
 
 P etch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave 
 
 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. 60 
 
 Cap. Why, how now, kinsman ! wherefore storm you so ? 
 Tyb. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe ; 
 
 A villain, that is hither come in spite, 
 
 To scorn at our solemnity this night. 
 Cap. Young Romeo is it ? 
 
 Tyb. . 'Tis he, that villain Romeo. , 
 
 Cap. d^nf*ee:ten^^''coz, let him alone, - L._^ VV^£^^ 
 
 He bears' him like a portly gentleman ; A.A-^j^^ia-a^^*-''^ 
 
 53 3^^=^*-^
 
 Act I. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And, to say truth, Verona brags of him 
 To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth : 
 I would not for the weaUh of all this town 70 
 
 Here in my house do him disparagement : 
 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. 
 Tyb. It fits, when such a villain is a guest : 
 
 I '11 not endure him. 
 Cap. He shall be endured : 
 
 fj^j, , Qjii^ ' /What,^oodrnan boy ! I say, he shall : go to ; 
 
 (yj^'^^^^y^ AmTthe master here, or you? go to. 
 
 i^^^i^"^;^ You '11 not endure him ! God shall mend my soul, 
 
 ?^ -'s.^- ^*-^^ '^^ SS;^^ ^■^}^^'^Py. ^ong my guests ! 81 
 
 ^J^ You_j^m^f cock-a-hobp! you '11 be the man! 
 
 "^ Tyb. Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. 
 
 Cap. 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 c(intrarytn^ei marry, tis time. 
 
 Well said, my hearts ! You are a princox ; go : 
 
 Be quiet, or — More light, more light ! For shame ! 
 
 I '11 make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts ! 
 Tyb. Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting 90 
 
 Makes my flesh tremble In their different greeting. 
 
 I will withdraw : but this Intrusion shall. 
 
 Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall. [Exit. 
 Rom. [To Juliet] If I profane with my unworthiest hand 
 This holy shrine, the gentle fine Is this. 
 
 My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand 
 To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. 
 
 54
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act I. Sc. v. 
 
 Jul. 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. loi 
 
 Rom, Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? 
 Jul. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. 
 Rom. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do ; 
 
 They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. 
 Jul. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. 
 Rom. Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. 
 
 Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purged. 
 
 [Kissing her. 
 Jul. Then have my lips the sin that they have took. 
 Rom. Sin from my lips ? O trespass sweetly urged ! no 
 
 Give me my sin again. 
 Jul. You kiss by the book. 
 
 Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you. 
 Rom. 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 nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal ; 
 
 I tell you, he that can lay hold of her 
 
 Shall have the cfe'nks:' ^ i 
 Rom. Is she a Capulet? 
 
 dear account ! my life is my foe's debt. 
 
 Ben. Away, be gone ; the sport is at the best. 120 
 
 Rom. Ay, so I fear ; the more is my unrest. 
 Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone ; 
 
 We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. 
 
 Is it e'en so ? why, then, I thank you all ; 
 
 1 thank you, honest gentlemen ; good night. 
 
 55
 
 Act II. Prologue THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 More torches here ! Come on then, let 's to bed. 
 
 Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late : 
 
 I 11 to my rest. [Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse. 
 
 Jul. Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? 
 Nurse. The son and heir of old Tiberio. 130 
 
 Jul. What 's he that now is going out of door ? 
 Nurse. Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio. 
 Jul. What 's he that follows there, that would not dance? 
 Nurse. I know not. 
 Jul. Go ask his name. If he be married. 
 
 My grave is like to be my wedding bed. 
 Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a ^lontague. 
 
 The only son of your great enemy. 
 Jul. My only love sprung from my only hate ! 
 
 Too early seen unknown, and known too late! 140 
 
 Prodigious birth of love it is to me, 
 
 That I must love a loathed enemy. 
 Nurse. What 's this ? what 's this ? 
 Jul. A rhyme I learn'd even now 
 
 Of one I danced withal. [One calls within ' JuHet.' 
 Nurse. Anon, anon ! 
 
 Come let 's away ; the strangers all are gone. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Prologue. 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chor. Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, 
 And young affection gapes to be his heir ; 
 That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, 
 With tender JuHet match'd, is now not fair. 
 
 56
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, 
 
 Alike bewitched by the charm of looks, 
 But to his foe supposed 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 used to swear ; lo 
 And she as much in love, her means much less 
 
 To meet her new beloved any where: 
 But passion lends them power, time means, to meet. 
 Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. [Exit. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 A lane by the zvall of Capulefs orchard. 
 
 Enter Romeo, alone. 
 
 Rom. Can I go forward when my heart is here? 
 Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. 
 
 [He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it. 
 
 Enter Benvolio with Mercutio. 
 
 Ben. Romeo! my cousin Romeo! 
 
 Mer. He is wise ; 
 
 And, on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed. 
 Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall : 
 
 Call, good Mercutio. 
 Mer. Nay, I '11 conjure too. 
 
 Romeo ! humours ! madman ! passion ! lover ! 
 
 Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh : 
 
 Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied ; 
 
 Cry but ' ay me ! ' pronounce but ' love ' and * dove ' ; 
 
 Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, 1 1 
 
 One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim 
 
 When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid ! 
 
 He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not ; 
 
 The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. 
 
 I conjure thee by Rosahne's bright eyes, 
 
 By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, 
 
 By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh. 
 
 And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, 20 
 
 That in thy likeness thou appear to us ! 
 
 Ben. An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. 
 
 Mer. This cannot anger him : 'twould anger him 
 To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle 
 Of some strange nature, letting it there stand 
 Till she had laid it and conjured it down ; 
 That were some spite : my invocation 
 Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name 
 I conjure only but to raise up him. 
 
 Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, 30 
 To be consorted with the humorous night : 
 Blind is his love, and best befits the dark. 
 
 Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. 
 Kow will he sit under the medlar-tree. 
 And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit 
 As maids call medlars when they laugh alone. 
 O, Romeo, that she were, O, that she were 
 An open et cetera, thou a poperin pear ! 
 Romeo, good night : I '11 to my truckle-bed ; 
 This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep : 40 
 
 Come, shall we go ? 
 
 Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain 
 
 To seek him here that means not to be found. 
 
 [Exeunt 
 
 58
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Capulefs orchard. 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Rom. He jests at scars that never felt a wound. 
 
 [Juliet appears above at a window. 
 But, soft ! what Hght through yonder window breaks ? 
 It is the east, and Juliet is the sun ! 
 Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, 
 Who is already sick and pale with grief. 
 That thou her maid are far more fair than she : 
 ' Be not her maid, since she is envious ; 
 Her vestal livery is but sick and green, 
 And none but fools do wear it ; cast it off. 
 It is my lady ; O, it is my love ! lo 
 
 O, that she knew she were ! 
 She speaks, yet she says nothing : what of that ? 
 Her eye discourses, I will answer it. 
 I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks : 
 Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven. 
 Having some business, do intreat her eyes 
 To twinkle in their spheres till they return. 
 What if her eyes were there, they in her head? 
 The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars. 
 As daylight doth a lamp ; her eyes in heaven 20 
 
 Would through the airy region stream so bright 
 That birds would sing and think it were not night. 
 See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand ! 
 O, that I were a glove upon that hand. 
 That I might touch that cheek ! 
 
 Jul. Ay me! 
 
 59
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Rom. She speaks: 
 
 O, speak again, bright angel ! for thou art 
 As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, 
 As is a winged messenger of heaven 
 Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes 
 Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him, 30 
 
 When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds 
 And sails upon the bosom of the air. _ 
 
 JuL O Romeo, Romeo ! wherefore art thou Romeo ? 
 Deny thy father and refuse thy name ; 
 Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love. 
 And I '11 no longer be a Capulet. 
 
 Rom. {Aside'] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this ? 
 
 Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy ; 
 
 Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. 
 
 What 's Montague ? it is nor hand, nor foot, 40 
 
 Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part 
 
 Belonging to a man. O, be some other name ! 
 
 What 's in a name ? that which we call a rose 
 
 By any other name would smell as sweet ; 
 
 So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd. 
 
 Retain that dear perfection which he owes 
 
 Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name. 
 
 And for thy name, which is no part of thee, 
 
 Take all myself. 
 
 Rom. I take thee at thy word : 
 
 Call me but love, and I '11 be new baptized ; 50 
 
 Henceforth I never will be Romeo. 
 
 Jul. What man art thou, that, thus bescreen'd in night, 
 So stumblest on my counsel ? 
 
 Rom. By a name 
 
 I know not how to tell thee who I am : 
 60
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, 
 
 Because it is an enemy to thee ; 
 
 Had I it written, I would tear the word. 
 
 Jul. My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words 
 Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound : 
 Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague ? 60 
 
 Rom. Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike. 
 
 Jul. How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? 
 The orchard walls are high and hard to climb. 
 And the place death, considering who thou art, 
 If any of my kinsmen find thee here. 
 
 Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls, 
 For stony limits cannot hold love out : 
 And what love can do, that dares love attempt ; 
 Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. 
 
 Jul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. 70 
 
 Rom. Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye 
 
 Than twenty of their swords : look thou but sweet, 
 And I am proof against their enmity. 
 
 Jul. I would not for the world they saw thee here. 
 
 Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes ; 
 And but thou love me, let them find me here : 
 My life were better ended by their hate. 
 Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. 
 
 Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this place ? 
 
 Rom. By love, that first did prompt me to inquire ; 80 
 He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes. 
 I am no pilot ; yet, wert thou as far 
 As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, 
 I would adventure for such merchandise. 
 
 Jul. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face. 
 Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek 
 
 61
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. 
 
 Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny 
 
 What I have spoke : but farewell compliment ! 
 
 Dost thou love me ? I know thou wilt say ' Ay,* 90 
 
 And 1 will take thy word : yet, if thou swear'st, 
 
 Thou mayst prove false: at lovers' perjuries, 
 
 They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, 
 
 If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: 
 
 Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, 
 
 I '11 frown and be perverse and say thee nay, 
 
 So thou wilt woo ; but else, not for the world. 
 
 In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ; 
 
 And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light : 
 
 But trust me, gentleman, I '11 prove more true 100 
 
 Than those that have more cunning to be strange. 
 
 I should have been more strange, I must confess, 
 
 But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware. 
 
 My true love's passion : therefore pardon me, 
 
 And not impute this yielding to light love. 
 
 Which the dark night hath so discovered. 
 
 Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear. 
 
 That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops, — 
 
 Jul O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant moon, 
 
 That monthly changes in her circled orb, 1 10 
 
 Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. 
 
 Rom. What shall I swear by ? 
 
 Jul. Do not swear at all ; 
 
 Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, 
 Which is the god of my idolatry. 
 And I '11 believe thee. 
 
 Rom. If my heart's dear love — 
 
 Jul, Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, 
 
 62
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 I have no joy of this contract to-night: 
 It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden, 
 Too hke the hghtning, which doth cease to be 
 Ere one can say ' It Hghtens.' Sweet, good night ! 
 This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, 121 
 May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. 
 Good night, good night ! as sweet repose and rest 
 Come to thy heart as that within my breast ! 
 
 Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ? 
 
 Jul, What satisfaction canst thou have to-night ? 
 
 Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. 
 
 Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it : 
 And yet I would it were to give again. 
 
 Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it ? for what purpose, love ? 
 
 Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. 131 
 
 And yet I wish but for the thing I have : 
 My bounty is as boundless as the sea. 
 My love as deep ; the more I give to thee, 
 The more I have, for both are infinite. 
 I hear some noise within ; dear love, adieu ! 
 
 [Nurse calls within. 
 Anon, good nurse ! Sweet Montague, be true. 
 Stay but a little, I will come again. \Exit. 
 
 Rom. O blessed, blessed night ! I am afeard. 
 
 Being in night, all this is but a dream, 140 
 
 Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. 
 
 Re-enter Juliet, above. 
 
 Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. 
 If that thy bent of love be honourable. 
 Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, 
 By one that I '11 procure to come to thee, 
 
 63
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite, 
 
 And all my fortunes at thy foot I '11 lay, 
 
 And follow thee my lord throughout the world. 
 Nurse. [Within^ Madam! 
 Jul. I come, anon. — But if thou mean'st not well, 150 
 
 I do beseech thee — 
 Nurse. [Within] Madam! 
 Jul. By and by, I come : — 
 
 To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief : 
 
 To-morrow will I send. 
 Rom. So thrive my soul, — 
 
 Jul. A thousand times good night ! [Exit. 
 
 Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. 
 
 Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their 
 books. 
 
 But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. 
 
 [Retiring slowly. 
 
 Re-enter Juliet, above. 
 
 Jul. Hist ! Romeo, hist ! — O, for a falconer's voice, 
 
 To lure this tassel-gentle back again ! 160 
 
 Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; 
 
 Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies. 
 
 And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine. 
 
 With repetition of my Romeo's name. 
 
 Romeo ! 
 
 Rom. It is my soul that calls upon my name : 
 
 How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 
 Like softest music to attending ears ! 
 
 Jul. Romeo! 
 
 Rom. My dear? 
 
 Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow 
 
 64
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Shall I send to thee? 
 
 Rom. At the hour of nine. 
 
 Jul. I will not fail : 'tis twenty years till then. 170 
 
 I have forgot why I did call thee back. 
 
 Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. 
 
 Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, 
 Remembering how I love thy company. 
 
 Rom. And I '11 still stay, to have thee still forget, 
 Forgetting any other home but this. 
 
 Jul. 'Tis almost morning ; I would have thee gone : 
 And yet no farther than a wanton's bird, 
 Who lets it hop a little from her hand, 
 Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, 180 
 
 And with a silk thread plucks it back again, 
 So loving- jealous of his liberty. 
 
 Rom. I would I were thy bird. 
 
 Jul. Sweet, so would I : 
 
 Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. 
 Good night, good night ! parting is such sweet sorrow 
 That I shall say good night till it be morrow. [Exit. 
 
 Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast ! 
 Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest ! 
 Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, 189 
 
 His help to crave and my dear hap to tell. [Exit. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Friar Laurence's cell. 
 
 Enter Friar Laurence, with a basket. 
 
 Fri. L. The grey-eyed mom smiles on the frowning night. 
 Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; 
 And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels 
 
 65
 
 Act II Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels : 
 
 Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, 
 
 The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, 
 
 I must up-fill this osier cage of ours 
 
 With baleful weeds and precious- juiced flowers. 
 
 The earth that 's nature's mother is her tomb ; 
 
 What is her burying grave, that is her womb : lo 
 
 And from her womb children of divers kind 
 
 We sucking on her natural bosom find, 
 
 Many for many virtues excellent, 
 
 None but for some, and yet all different. 
 
 O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies 
 
 In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities : 
 
 For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, 
 
 But to the earth some special good doth give ; 
 
 Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use. 
 
 Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: 20 
 
 Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied. 
 
 And vice sometime 's by action dignified. 
 
 Within the infant rind of this small flower 
 
 Poison hath residence, and medicine power : 
 
 For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part, 
 
 Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. 
 
 Two such opposed kings encamp them still 
 
 In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will ; 
 
 And where the worser is predominant, 
 
 Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. 30 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Rom. Good morrow, father. 
 
 Fri. L. Benedicite! 
 
 What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? 
 66 
 
 (
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Young son, it argues a distemper'd head 
 
 So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed : 
 
 Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, 
 
 And where care lodges, sleep will never lie ; 
 
 But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain 
 
 Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign : 
 
 Therefore thy earliness doth me assure 
 
 Thou art up-roused by some distemperature ; 40 
 
 Or if not so, then here I hit it right, 
 
 Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. 
 
 Rom. That last is true ; the sweeter rest was mine. 
 
 Fri. L. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? 
 
 Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; 
 
 I have forgot that name and that name's woe. 
 
 Fri.L. That's my good son : but where hast thou been then? 
 
 Rom. I '11 tell thee ere thou ask it me again. 
 I have been feasting with mine enemy ; 
 Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, 50 
 
 That 's by me wounded : both our remedies 
 Within thy help and holy physic lies : 
 I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, 
 My intercession likewise steads my foe. 
 
 Fri. L. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift ; 
 Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. 
 
 Rom. Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set 
 On the fair daughter of rich Capulet : 
 As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine ; 
 And all combined, save what thou must combine 60 
 By holy marriage : when, and where, and how, 
 We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, 
 I '11 tell thee as we pass ; but this I pray, 
 That thou consent to marry us to-day. 
 
 67
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Fri. L. Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! 
 Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear. 
 So soon forsaken ? young men's love then lies 
 Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. 
 Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine 
 Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline ! 70 
 
 How much salt water thrown away in waste, 
 To season love, that of it doth not taste ! 
 The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, 
 Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears ; 
 Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit 
 Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet : 
 If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, 
 Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline : 
 And art thou changed ? pronounce this sentence then : 
 Women may fall when there 's no strength in men. 
 
 Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. 81 
 
 Fri. L. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. 
 
 Rom. And bad'st me bury love. 
 
 Fri. L. Not in a grave. 
 
 To lay one in, another out to have. 
 
 Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she whom I love now 
 Doth grace for grace and love for love allow ; 
 The other did not so. 
 
 Fri. L. O, she knew well 
 
 Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. 
 
 But come, young waverer, come, go with me. 
 
 In one respect I '11 thy assistant be ; 90 
 
 For this alliance may so happy prove. 
 
 To turn your households' rancour to pure love. 
 
 Rom. O, let us hence ; I stand on sudden haste. 
 
 Fri.L. Wisely and slow ; they stumble that run fast. [Exeunt, 
 
 68
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 A street. 
 Enter Benvolio and Mercutio. 
 
 Mer, Where the devil should this Romeo be? 
 Came he not home to-night ? 
 
 Ben. Not to his father's ; I spoke with his man. 
 
 Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, 
 Torments him so that he will sure run mad. 
 
 Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, 
 Hath sent a letter to his father's house. 
 
 Mer. A challenge, on my life. 
 
 Ben. Romeo will answer it. 
 
 Mer. Any man that can write may answer a letter. lo 
 
 Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he 
 dares, being dared. 
 
 Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead ! stabbed 
 with a white wench's black eye: shot thorough 
 the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his 
 heart cleft with the blind bow -boy's butt-shaft: 
 and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? 
 
 Ben, Why, what is Tybalt ? 
 
 Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, 
 
 he 's the courageous captain of compliments. 20 
 He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, 
 distance and proportion ; rests me his minim rest, 
 one, two, and the third in your bosom : the very 
 butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; 
 a gentleman of the very first house, of the first 
 and second cause : ah, the immortal passado ! the 
 punto reverso ! the hai ! 
 
 69
 
 Act IL Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Ben. The what? 
 
 Mer. The pox of such antic, Hsping, affecting fan- 
 
 tasticoes ; these new tuners of accents ! ' By 30 
 Jesu, a very good blade ! a very tall man ! a 
 very good whore ! ' Why, is not this a lament- 
 able thing, grandsire, that we should be thus 
 afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion- 
 mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand so much 
 on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on 
 the old bench ? O, their bones, their bones ! 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. 
 
 Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring : O flesh, 
 
 flesh, how art thou fishified ! Now is he for the 40 
 numbers that Petrarch flowed in : Laura to his 
 lady was but a kitchen-wench ; marry, she had a 
 better love to be-rhyme her; Dido, a dowdy; 
 Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings 
 and harlots ; Thisbe, a grey eye or so, but not to 
 the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's 
 a French salutation to your French slop. You 
 gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. 
 
 Rom. Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit 
 
 did I give you ? 5^ 
 
 Mer. The slip, sir, the slip ; can you not conceive ? 
 
 Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great 
 and in such a case as mine a man may strain 
 courtesy. 
 
 Mer. That 's as much as to say, Such a case as yours 
 constrains a man to bow in the hams. 
 
 Rom. Meaning, to court'sy. 
 
 70
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it. 
 
 Rom. A most^courteous exposition. 
 
 Mer, Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. 60 
 
 Rom. Pink for flower. 
 
 Mer. Right. 
 
 Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered. 
 
 Mer. Well said: follow me this jest now, till thou 
 
 hast worn out thy pump, that, when the single 
 
 sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the 
 
 wearing, solely singular. 
 Rom. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the 
 
 singleness ! 
 Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio ; my wits faint. 70 
 Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs ; or I '11 cry 
 
 a match. 
 Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I 
 
 have done ; for thou hast more of the wild-goose 
 
 in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my 
 
 whole five : was I with you there for the goose ? 
 Rom. Thou wast never with me for anything when 
 
 thou wast not there for the goose. 
 Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. 
 Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. 80 
 
 Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting ; it is a most 
 
 sharp sauce. 
 Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? 
 Mer. O, here 's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from 
 
 an inch narrow to an ell broad! 
 Rom. I stretch it out for that word ' broad ' ; which 
 
 added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a 
 
 broad goose. 
 Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for 
 
 71
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 love? now art thou sociable, now art thou 90 
 Romeo ; now art thou what thou art, by art as 
 well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like 
 a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to 
 hide his bauble in a hole. 
 
 Ben. Stop there, stop there. 
 
 Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against 
 the hair. 
 
 Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. 
 
 Mer. O, thou art deceived ; I would have made it 
 
 short : for I was come to the whole depth of 100 
 my tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argu- 
 ment no longer. 
 
 Rom. Here 's goodly gear ! 
 
 Enter Nurse and Peter. 
 
 Mer. A sail, a sail ! 
 
 Ben. Two, two ; a shirt and a smock. 
 
 Nurse. Peter! 
 
 Peter. Anon? 
 
 Nurse. My fan, Peter. 
 
 Mer. Good Peter, to hide her face ; for her fan 's the 
 
 fairer of the two. no 
 
 Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. 
 
 Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. 
 
 Nurse. Is it good den ? 
 
 Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you ; for the bawdy hand 
 of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. 
 
 Nurse. Out upon you ! what a man are you ! 
 
 Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made him- 
 self to mar. 
 
 Nurse. By my troth, it is well said ; ' for himself to 
 
 72
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 mar,' quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell 120 
 me where I may find the young Romeo ? 
 
 Rom. I can tell you ; but young Romeo will be older 
 when you have found him than he was when you 
 sought him : I am the youngest of that name, for 
 fault of a worse. 
 
 Nurse. You say well. 
 
 Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' 
 faith ; wisely, wisely. 
 
 Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence 
 
 wdth you. 130 
 
 Ben. She wall indite him to some supper. 
 
 Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd ! So ho ! 
 
 Rom. What hast thou found ? 
 
 Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten 
 pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be 
 spent. [Sings. 
 
 An old hare hoar. 
 
 And an old hare hoar. 
 Is very good meat in lent : 
 
 But a hare that is hoar, 140 
 
 Is too much for a score. 
 When it hoars ere it be spent. 
 
 Romeo, will you come to your father's ? we '11 
 
 to dinner thither. 
 Rom.. I will follow you. 
 Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, [Singing] 
 
 ' lady, lady, lady.' [Exeimt Mercutio and Benvolio. 
 Nurse. Marry, farewell ! I pray you, sir, what saucy 
 
 merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery ? 
 Rom, A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself 150 
 
 72>
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 talk, and will speak more in a minute than he 
 will stand to in a month. 
 
 Nurse. An a' speak any thing against me, I '11 take 
 him down, an a' were lustier than he is, and 
 twenty such Jacks ; and if I cannot, I '11 find 
 those that shall. Scurvy knave ! I am none 
 of his flirt-gills ; I am none of his skains- 
 mates. [Turning to Peter^ And thou must stand 
 by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his 
 pleasure? i6o 
 
 Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I 
 had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I 
 warrant you : I dare draw as soon as another 
 man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel and the 
 law on my side. 
 
 Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every 
 part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray 
 you, sir, a word : and as I told you, my young 
 lady bade me inquire you out ; what she bade me 
 say, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell 170 
 ye, if ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as 
 they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, 
 as they say : for the gentlewoman is young, and 
 therefore, if you should deal double with her, 
 truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any 
 gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. 
 
 Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. 
 I protest unto thee — 
 
 Nurse. Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as 
 
 much: Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. 180 
 
 Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not 
 mark me. 
 
 74
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 Nurse. I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; 
 which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. 
 
 Rom. Bid her devise 
 
 Some means to come to shrift this afternoon ; 
 
 And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell 
 
 Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. 
 
 Nurse. No, truly, sir ; not a penny. 
 
 Rom. Go to ; I say you shall. 190 
 
 Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. 
 
 Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-wall : 
 Within this hour my man shall be with thee, 
 And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair ; 
 Which to the high top-gallant of my joy 
 Must be my convoy in the secret night. 
 Farewell ; be trusty, and I '11 quit thy pains : 
 Farewell ; commend me to thy mistress. 
 
 Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee ! Hark you, sir. 
 
 Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse? 200 
 
 Nurse. Is your man secret ? Did you ne'er hear say, 
 Two may keep counsel, putting one away ? 
 
 Rom. I warrant thee, my man 's as true as steel. 
 
 Nurse. Well, sir ; my mistress is the sweetest lady — 
 Lord, Lord ! when 'twas a little prating thing — 
 O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that 
 would fain lay knife aboard ; but she, good soul, 
 had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see him. 
 I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is 
 the properer man ; but I '11 warrant you, when I 210 
 say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal 
 world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin 
 both with a letter ? 
 
 Rom. Ay, nurse ; what of that ? both with an R. 
 
 75
 
 Act II. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Nurse. Ah, mocker ! that 's the dog's name ; R is for 
 the — No ; I know it begins with some other letter 
 — and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of 
 you and rosemary, that it would do you good to 
 hear it. 
 
 Rom. Commend me to thy lady. 220 
 
 Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo. '\ Peter! 
 
 Pet. Anon? 
 
 Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before, and apace. 
 
 [Exeunt, 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Capulefs orchard. 
 
 Enter Juliet. 
 
 Jul. The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse ; 
 In half an hour she promised to return. 
 Perchance she cannot meet him : that 's not so. 
 O, she is lame ! love's heralds should be thoughts, 
 Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, 
 Driving back shadows over louring hills : 
 Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love. 
 And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. 
 Now is the sun upon the highmost hill 
 Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve 10 
 Is three long hours ; yet she is not come. 
 Had she affections and warm youthful blood. 
 She would be as swift in motion as a ball ; 
 My words would bandy her to my sweet love, 
 And his to me : 
 
 But old folks, many feign as they were dead; 
 Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. 
 
 76
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. v. 
 
 Enter Nurse, with Peter. 
 
 O God, she comes ! O honey nurse, what news ? 
 Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. 
 
 Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit Peter. 20 
 
 Jul Now, good sweet nurse, — O Lord, why look'st thou 
 sad? 
 Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily ; 
 If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news 
 By playing it to me with so sour a face. 
 
 Nurse. I am a-weary ; give me leave a while. 
 
 Fie, how my bones ache ! what a jaunce have I had ! 
 
 Jul. I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news : 
 
 Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, 
 speak. 
 
 Nurse. Jesu, what haste ? can you not stay a while ? 
 
 Do you not see that I am out of breath? 30 
 
 Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath 
 To say to me that thou art out of breath ? 
 The excuse that thou dost make in this delay 
 Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. 
 Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; 
 Say either, and I '11 stay the circumstance : 
 Let me be satisfied, is 't good or bad ? 
 
 Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you 
 know not how to choose a man : Romeo ! no, 
 not he; though his face be better than any 40 
 man's, yet his leg excels all men's ; and for a 
 hand, and a foot, and a body, though they be 
 not to be talked on, yet they are past compare : 
 he is not the flower of courtesy, but, I '11 warrant 
 him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench ; 
 serve God. What, have you dined at home? 
 
 77
 
 Act II. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Jul. No, no : but all this did I know before. 
 
 What says he of our marriage? what of that? 
 
 Nurse. Lord, how my head aches ! what a head have I ! 
 It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. 50 
 
 My back o' t' other side, — ah, my back, my back ! 
 Beshrew your heart for sending me about, 
 To catch my death with jauncing up and down ! 
 
 Jul. V faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. 
 
 Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my 
 love? 
 
 Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and 
 a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I 
 warrant, a virtuous, — Where is your mother? 
 
 Jul. Where is my mother ! why, she is within ; 
 
 Where should she be ? How oddly thou repliest ! 
 ' Your love says, like an honest gentleman, 61 
 
 Where is your mother ? ' 
 
 Nurse. O God's lady dear! 
 
 Are you so hot ? marry, come up, I trow ; 
 Is this the poultice for my aching bones ? 
 Henceforward do your messages yourself. 
 
 Jul. Here 's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? 
 
 Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? 
 
 Jul. I have. 
 
 Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell ; 
 
 There stays a husband to make you a wife : 70 
 
 Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, 
 
 They '11 be in scarlet straight at any news. 
 
 Hie you to church ; I must another way, 
 
 To fetch a ladder, by the which your love 
 
 Must climb a bird's nest soon when it Is dark ; 
 
 I am the drudge, and toil in your delight 
 
 78
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act II. Sc. vi. 
 
 But you shall bear the burthen soon at night. 
 Go ; I '11 to dinner ; hie you to the cell. 
 Jul. Hie to high fortune ! Honest nurse, farewell. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene VI. 
 
 Friar Laurence's cell. 
 Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo. . 
 
 Fri. L. So smile the heavens upon this holy act 
 That after-hours with sorrow chide us not ! 
 
 Rom. Amen, amen ! but come what sorrow can. 
 It cannot countervail the exchange of joy 
 That one short minute gives me in her sight : 
 Do thou but close our hands with holy words, 
 Then love-devouring death do what he dare, 
 It is enough I may but call her mine. 
 
 Fri. L. These violent delights have violent ends. 
 
 And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder lo 
 Which as they kiss consume : the sweetest honey 
 Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, 
 And in the taste confounds the appetite : 
 Therefore, love moderately ; long love doth so ; 
 Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. 
 
 Enter Juliet, 
 
 Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot 
 Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint. 
 A lover may bestride the gossamer 
 That idles in the wanton summer air. 
 And yet not fall ; so light is vanity. 20 
 
 Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor. 
 
 79
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Fri. L. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. 
 
 JiiL As much to him, else is his thanks too much. 
 
 Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy 
 
 Be heap'd Uke mine, and that thy skill be more 
 To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath 
 This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue 
 Unfold the imagined happiness that both 
 Receive in either by this dear encounter. 
 
 Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, 30 
 
 Brags of his substance, not of ornament : 
 They are but beggars that can count their worth ; 
 But my true love is grown to such excess, 
 I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. 
 
 Fri. L. Come, come with me, and we will make short 
 work; 
 For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone 
 Till holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt, 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 A public place. 
 Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants. 
 
 Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let 's retire : 
 The day is hot, the Capulets abroad. 
 And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl ; 
 For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring. 
 
 Mer. Thou art like one of those fellow that when 
 
 he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his 
 
 sword upon the table, and says ' God send me 
 
 no need of thee ! ' and by the operation of the 
 
 80 
 
 I
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed 
 there is no need. lo 
 
 Ben. Am I Hke such a fellow ? 
 
 Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood 
 as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, 
 and as soon moody to be moved. 
 
 Ben. And what to ? 
 
 Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should have 
 none shortly, for one would kill the other. 
 Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that 
 hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard than 
 thou hast : thou wilt quarrel with a man for 20 
 cracking nuts, having no other reason but because 
 thou hast hazel eyes ; what eye, but such an eye, 
 would spy out such a quarrel? thy head is as 
 full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and 
 yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg 
 for quarrelling : thou hast quarrelled with a man 
 for coughing in the street, because he hath 
 wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun : 
 didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing 
 his new doublet before Easter? with another, 30 
 for tying his new shoes with old riband? and 
 yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! 
 
 Ben. An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art. any 
 man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an 
 hour and a quarter. 
 
 Mer. The fee-simple ! O simple ! 
 
 Enter Tybalt and others. 
 
 Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. 
 Mer, By my heel, I care not. 
 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Tyh. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. 
 
 Gentlemen, good den : a word with one of you. 40 
 
 Mer. And but one word with one of us ? couple it 
 with something ; make it a word and a blow. 
 
 Tyb. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you 
 will give me occasion. 
 
 Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving ? 
 
 Tyh. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo, — 
 
 Mer. Consort ! what, dost, thou make us minstrels ? 
 an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear noth- 
 ing but discords : here 's my fiddlestick ; here 's 
 that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort ! ^o 
 
 Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : 
 Either withdraw unto some private place, 
 Or reason coldly of your grievances. 
 Or else depart ; here all eyes tgaze on us. 
 
 Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; 
 I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Tyh. Well, peace be with you, sir : here comes my man. 
 Mer. But I '11 be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery : 
 
 Marry, go before to field, he '11 be your follower ; 
 
 Your worship in that sense may call him man. 60 
 
 Tyh. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford 
 
 No better term than this, — thou art a villain. 
 Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee 
 
 Doth much excuse the appertaining rage 
 
 To such a greeting : villain am I none ; 
 
 Therefore farewell ; I see thou know'st me not. 
 Tyh. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries 
 
 That thou hast done me ; therefore turn and draw. 
 
 82
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Rom. I do protest, I never injured thee, 
 
 But love thee better than thou canst devise 70 
 
 Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: 
 And so, good Capulet, — which name I tender 
 As dearly as mine own, — be satisfied. 
 
 Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! 
 
 Alia stoccata carries it away. [Drarcvs. 
 
 Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? 
 
 Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? 
 
 Mer. Good king of cats; nothing but one of your 
 nine lives, that I mean to make bold withal, and, 
 as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest 80 
 of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of 
 his pilcher by the ears ? make haste, lest mine be 
 about your ears ere it be out. 
 
 Tyh. I am for you. {Drawing. 
 
 Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. 
 
 Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight, 
 
 Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. 
 Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! 
 Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath 
 Forbid this bandying in Verona streets : 90 
 
 Hold, Tybalt ! good Mercutio ! 
 
 [Tybalt under Romeo's arm stabs Mercutio 
 and flies zvith his followers. 
 
 Mer, I am hurt; 
 
 A plague o' both your houses ! I am sped : 
 Is he gone, and hath nothing? 
 
 Ben. What, art thou hurt ? 
 
 Mer, Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry, 'tis enough. 
 Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. 
 
 [Exit Page. 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Rom. Courage, man ; the hurt cannot be much. 
 
 Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a 
 church-door; but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask 
 for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a 
 grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this loo 
 world. A plague o' both your houses ! 'Zounds, 
 a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to 
 death ! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights 
 by the book of arithmetic ! Why the devil came 
 you between us? I was hurt under your arm. 
 
 Rom. I thought all for the best. 
 
 Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, 
 
 Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses ! 
 They have made worms' meat of me : I have it. 
 And soundly too: your houses! no 
 
 [Exeunt Merciitio and Benvolio. 
 
 Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally. 
 My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt 
 In my behalf ; my reputation stain'd 
 With Tybalt's slander, — Tybalt, that an hour 
 Hath been my kinsman : O sweet Juliet, 
 Thy beauty hath made me eflfeminate. 
 And in my temper soften'd valour's steel ! 
 
 Re-enter Benvolio. 
 
 Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio 's dead ! 
 That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds. 
 Which too untimel}i here (Jid scorn the earth. 120 
 
 Rom. This day's black mf^nfm^dkys doth depend ; 
 Mj94jJU of This but begins the woe others must end. 
 
 ' J Re-^enter Tybalt. 
 
 Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. 
 
 1
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Rom. Alive, in triumph ! and Mercutio slain ! 
 
 Away to heaven, respective' lenity, / 
 
 And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now ! 
 
 Now, Tybalt, take the ' villain ' back again 
 
 That late thou gavest me ; for Mercutio's soul 
 
 Is but a little way above our heads, 
 
 Staying for thine to keep him company : 130 
 
 Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. 
 
 Tyh. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, 
 Shalt with him hence. 
 
 Rom. This shall determine that. 
 
 [They light; Tybalt falls. 
 
 Ben. Romeo, away, be gone ! 
 
 The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain : 
 
 Stand not amazed : 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 ? 
 
 [Exit Romeo. 
 
 Enter Citizens, etc. 
 
 First Cit. Which way ran he fhat kill'd Mercutio ? 
 
 Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? 140 
 
 Ben. There lies that Tybalt. 
 First Cit. Up, sir, go with me ; 
 
 I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. 
 
 Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their 
 Wives y and others. 
 
 Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray ? 
 Ben. O noble prince, I can discover 'all 
 
 The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl : 
 
 85
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, 
 That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. 
 
 La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin ! O my brother's child ! 
 
 O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt 
 Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, 150 
 For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. 
 O cousin, cousin ! 
 
 Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray ? 
 
 Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay ; 
 Romeo that spoke him fair, bid him bethink 
 How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal 
 Your high displeasure : all this uttered 
 With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd. 
 Could not take truce with the unruly spleen 
 Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts 160 
 
 With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast ; 
 Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point. 
 And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats 
 Cold death aside, and with the other sends 
 It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity 
 Retorts it : Romeo he cries aloud, 
 ' Hold, friends ! friends, part ! ' and, swifter than 
 
 his tongue. 
 His agile arm beats down their fatal points, 
 And 'twixt them rushes ; underneath whose arm 
 An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life 170 
 
 Of stout 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 stout Tybalt slain ; 
 And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly ; 
 
 N
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. 
 La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague, 
 
 Affection makes him false, he speaks not true : 
 
 Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, i8o 
 
 And all those twenty could but kill one life. 
 
 I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give ; 
 
 Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. 
 Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio ; 
 
 Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe ? 
 Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend ; 
 
 His fault concludes but what the law should end, 
 
 The life of Tybalt. 
 Prin. And for that offence 
 
 Immediately we do exile him hence : 
 
 I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, 190 
 
 My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding ; 
 
 But I '11 amerce you with so strong a fine, 
 
 That you shall all repent the loss of mine : 
 
 I will be deaf to pleading and excuses ; 
 
 Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses : 
 ■ Therefore use none : let Romeo hence in haste, 
 
 Else, when he 's found, that hour is his last. 
 
 Bear hence this body, and attend our will : 
 
 Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Capulet's orchard. 
 
 Enter Juliet. 
 
 Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds. 
 
 Toward Phoebus' lodging: such a waggoner 
 As Phaethon would whip you to the west, 
 
 87
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And bring in cloudy night immediately. 
 
 Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, 
 
 That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo 
 
 Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. 
 
 Lovers can see to do their amorous rites 
 
 By their own beauties ; or, if love be blind, 
 
 It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, lo 
 
 Thou sober-suited matron, all in black. 
 
 And learn me how to lose a winning match, 
 
 Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods : 
 
 Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks 
 
 With thy black mantle, till strange love grown bold 
 
 Think true love acted simple modesty. 
 
 Come, night, come, Romeo, come, thou day in 
 
 night ; 
 For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night 
 Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. 
 Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night. 
 Give me my Romeo ; and, when he shall die, 21 
 
 Take him and cut him out in little stars. 
 And he will make the face of heaven so fine, 
 That all the world will be in love with night, 
 And pay no worship to the garish sun. 
 O, I have bought the mansion of a love, 
 But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold. 
 Not yet enjoy'd; so tedious is this day 
 As is the night before some festival 
 To an impatient child that hath new robes 30 
 
 And may not wear them. O, here comes my 
 
 nurse, 
 And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks 
 But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Enter Nurse, zvith cords. 
 
 Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? 
 
 the cords 
 That Romeo bid thee fetch ? 
 
 Nurse'. Ay, ay, the cords. 
 
 [ Throws them down. 
 
 Jul. Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy 
 hands ? 
 
 Nurse. Ah, well-a-day ! he 's dead, he 's dead, he 's dead. 
 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 ? 
 
 Nurse. Romeo can, 40 
 
 Though heaven cannot. O Rom^o, Romeo ! 
 Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! 
 
 Jul. What devil art thou that dost torment me thus ? 
 This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. 
 Hath Romeo slain himself ? say thou but * 1/ 
 And that bare vowel ' I ' shall poison more 
 Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice : 
 I am not I, if there be such an I, 
 Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer ' L' 
 If he be slain, say ' I ' ; or if not, no : 50 
 
 Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. 
 
 Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes — 
 God save the mark ! — here on his manly breast : 
 A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse ; 
 Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood. 
 All in gore blood : I swounded at the sight. 
 
 Jul. O, break, my heart ! poor bankrupt, break at once ! 
 To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty ! 
 Vile earth, to earth resign, end motion here, 
 
 89
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier ! 60 
 
 Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had ! 
 
 O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! 
 
 That ever I should live to see thee dead ! 
 Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary? 
 
 Is Romeo slaugnter'd, and is Tybalt dead ? 
 
 My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? 
 
 Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom ! 
 
 For who is living, if those two are gone? 
 Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished ; 
 
 Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. 70 
 
 Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? 
 Nurse. It did, it did ; alas the day, it did ! 
 Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! 
 
 Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? 
 
 Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! 
 
 Dove-feather' d raven ! w^olvish-ravening lamb ! 
 
 Despised substance of divinest show ! 
 
 Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, 
 
 A damned saint, an honourable villain ! 
 
 O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, 80 
 
 When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend 
 
 In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ? 
 
 Was ever book containing such vile matter 
 
 So fairly bound ? O, that deceit should dwell 
 
 In such a gorgeous palace! 
 Nurse. There 's no trust, 
 
 No faith, no honesty in men ; all perjured, 
 
 All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. 
 
 Ah, where 's my man ? give me some aqua vitse : 
 
 These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. 
 
 Shame come to Romeo ! 
 
 90
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue 90 
 
 For such a wish ! he was not born to shame : 
 Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit ; 
 For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd 
 Sole monarch of the universal earth. 
 O, what a beast was I to chide at him ! 
 
 Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin ? 
 
 Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband ? 
 
 Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy 
 
 name. 
 When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? 
 But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? 100 
 That villain cousin 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 slain ; 
 And Tybalt 's dead, that would have slain my husband : 
 All this is comfort ; wherefore weep I then ? 
 Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, 
 That murder'd me : I would forget it fain ; 
 But, O, it presses to my memory, no 
 
 Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds : 
 * Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished ; ' 
 That ' banished,' that one word ' banished,' 
 Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death 
 Was woe enough, if it had ended there : 
 Or, if sour 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 moved? 120 
 
 91
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, 
 
 ' Romeo is banished ' : to speak that word, 
 
 Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, 
 
 All slain, all dead. ' Romeo is banished/ 
 
 There is no end, no limit, measure, bound. 
 
 In that word's death ; no words can that woe sound. 
 
 Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? 
 
 Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse : 
 Will you go to them ? I will bring you thither. 
 
 JuL Wash they his wounds with tears : mine shall be 
 spent, 130 
 
 When theiKs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. 
 Take up those cords : poor ropes, you are beguiled. 
 Both you and I ; for Romeo is exiled : 
 He made you for a highway to my bed ; 
 But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. 
 Come, cords ; come, nurse ; I '11 to my wedding-bed ; 
 And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead ! 
 
 Nurse. Hie to your chamber : I '11 find Romeo 
 To comfort you : I wot well where he is. 
 Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night : 140 
 
 I '11 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 last farewell. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Friar Laurence's cell. 
 
 Enter Friar Laurence. , 
 
 Fri. L. Romeo, come forth ; come forth, thou fearful man : 
 Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, 
 And thou art wedded to calamity. 
 
 92
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Rom. Father, what news ? what is the prince's doom ? 
 What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, 
 That I yet know not? 
 
 Fri. L. Too famihar 
 
 Is my dear son with such sour company : 
 I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. 
 
 Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom ? 
 
 Fri. L. A gentler judgement vanish'd from his lips, lo 
 Not body's death, but body's banishment. 
 
 Rom. Ha, banishment ! be merciful, say ' death ' ; 
 For exile hath more terror in his look, 
 Much more than death : do not say ' banishment/ 
 
 Fri. L. 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 banished is banish 'd from the world. 
 And world's exile is death : then ' banished ' 20 
 
 Is death mis-term'd : calling death ' banished,* 
 Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe. 
 And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. 
 
 Fri. L. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankfulness ! 
 
 Thy fault our law calls death ; but the kind prince. 
 Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law. 
 And turn'd that black word death to banishment : 
 This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. 
 
 Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy : heaven is here. 
 
 Where Juliet lives ; and every cat and dog 30 
 
 And little mouse, every unworthy thing, 
 Live here in heaven and may look on her, 
 
 93
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 But Romeo may not : more validity, 
 
 More honourable state, more courtship lives 
 
 In carrion-flies than Romeo : they may seize 
 
 On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand, 
 
 And steal immortal blessing from her lips ; 
 
 Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, 
 
 Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin ; 
 
 But Romeo may not ; he is banished : 40 
 
 This may flies do, but I from this must fly : 
 
 They are free men, but I am banished : 
 
 And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death ? 
 
 Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife. 
 
 No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean. 
 
 But ' banished ' to kill me ?— ' Banished ' ? 
 
 O friar, the damned use that word in hell ; 
 
 Howling attends it : how hast thou the heart, 
 
 Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, 
 
 A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, 50 
 
 To mangle me with that word ' banished ' ? 
 
 Fri. L. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. 
 
 Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. 
 
 Fri. L. I '11 give thee armour to keep off that word ; 
 Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, 
 To comfort thee, though thou art banished. 
 
 Rom. Yet ' banished ' ? Hang up philosophy ! 
 Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, 
 Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, 
 It helps not, it prevails not : talk no more. 60 
 
 Fri. L. O, then I see that madmen have no ears. 
 
 Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes ? 
 
 Fri. L. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. 
 
 Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel : 
 
 94 
 
 i
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, 
 An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, 
 ' Doting like me, and like me banished. 
 Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy 
 
 hair, 
 And fall upon the ground, as I do now, 
 Taking the measure of an unmade grave. 70 
 
 [Knocking within. 
 Fri. L. Arise ; one knocks ; good Romeo, hide thyself. 
 Rom, Not I ; unless the breath of heart-sick groans 
 Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. 
 
 [Knocking. 
 Fri. L. Hark, how they knock ! Who 's there ? Romeo, 
 arise ; 
 Thou wilt be taken. — Stay awhile ! — Stand up ; 
 
 [Knocking. 
 Run to my study. — By and by ! — God's will. 
 What simpleness is this ! — I come, I come ! 
 
 [Knocking. 
 Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's 
 your will? 
 Nurse. [Within] Let me come in, and you shall know my 
 errand ; 
 I come from Lady Juliet. 
 Fri. L. Welcome, then. 80 
 
 Enter Nurse. 
 
 Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, 
 
 Where is my lady's lord, where 's Romeo ? 
 Fri. L. There on the ground, with his own tears made 
 
 drunk. 
 Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case, 
 
 95
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Just in her case ! 
 
 Fri. L. O woeful sympathy ! 
 
 Piteous predicament! 
 
 Nurse. Even so lies she, 
 
 Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. 
 Stand up, stand up ; stand, an you be a man : 
 For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand ; 
 Why should you fall into so deep an O ? qo 
 
 Rom. Nurse! 
 
 Nurse. Ah sir ! ah sir ! Well, death 's the end of all. 
 
 Rom. Spakest thou of Juliet ? how is it with her ? 
 Doth she not think me an old murderer. 
 Now I have stain 'd the childhood of our joy 
 With blood removed but little from her own ? 
 Where is she ? and how doth she ? and what says 
 My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? 
 
 Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps ; 
 
 And now falls on her bed ; and then starts up, lOO 
 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 cursed hand 
 Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, 
 In what vile part of this anatomy 
 Doth my name lodge ? tell nit, that I may sack 
 The hateful mansion. [Drazving his sword. 
 
 Fri, L. Hold thy desperate hand : 
 
 Art thou a man ? thy form cries out thou art : 
 Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote no 
 The unreasonable fury of a beast : 
 - Unseemly woman in a seeming man 
 
 96
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both ! 
 
 Thou hast amazed me : by my holy order, 
 
 I thought thy disposition better tempered. 
 
 Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? 
 
 And slay thy lady that in thy life lives, 
 
 By doing damned hate upon thyself ? 
 
 Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven and earth? 
 
 Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet 
 
 In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose. 121 
 
 Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit ; 
 
 Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, 
 
 And usest none in that true use indeed 
 
 Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit : 
 
 Thy noble shape is but a form of wax. 
 
 Digressing from the valour of a man ; 
 
 Thy dear love sworn, but hollow perjury, 
 
 Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish ; 
 
 Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, 130 
 
 Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both. 
 
 Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, 
 
 Is set a-fire by thine own ignorance. 
 
 And thou dismember 'd with thine own defence. 
 
 What, rouse thee, man ; thy Juliet is alive. 
 
 For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead ; 
 
 There art thou happy : Tybalt would kill thee. 
 
 But thou slew'st Tybalt ; there art thou happy too : 
 
 The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend. 
 
 And turns it to exile ; there art thou happy : 140 
 
 A pack of blessings lights upon thy back ; 
 
 Happiness courts thee in her best array ; 
 
 But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, 
 
 Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love : 
 
 97
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. 
 
 Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, 
 
 Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her : 
 
 But look thou stay not till the watch be set, 
 
 For then thou canst not pass to Mantua ; 
 
 Where thou shalt live till we can find a time 150 
 
 To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, 
 
 Beg pardon of the prince, and, call thee back 
 
 With twenty hundred thousand times more joy 
 
 Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. 
 
 Go before, nurse : commend me to thy lady, 
 
 And bid her hasten all the house to bed. 
 
 Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto : 
 
 Romeo is coming. 
 
 Nurse. O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night 
 
 To hear good counsel : O, what learning is ! 160 
 
 My lord, I '11 tell my lady you will come. 
 
 Kom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. 
 
 Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir : 
 
 Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit. 
 
 Rom, How well my comfort is revived by this ! 
 
 Fri, L. Go hence ; good night ; and here stands all your 
 state : 
 Either be gone before the watch be set, 
 Or by the break of day disguised from hence : 
 Sojourn in Mantua; I '11 find out your man. 
 And he shall signify from time to time 170 
 
 Every good hap to you that chances here : 
 Give me thy hand ; 'tis late : farewell ; good night. 
 
 Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, 
 It were a grief, so brief to part with thee : 
 Farewell. [Exeunt 
 
 98
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. iv. 
 
 Scene TV. 
 
 A room in Capiilet's house. 
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris. 
 
 Cap. Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, 
 
 That we have had no time to move our daughter. 
 
 Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, 
 
 And so did I. Well, we were born to die. 
 
 'Tis very late ; she '11 not come down to-night : 
 
 I promise 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. 
 La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow ; lo 
 
 To-night she 's mew'd up to her heaviness. 
 Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender 
 
 Of my child's love : I think she will be ruled 
 
 In all respects by me ; nay more, I doubt it not. 
 
 Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed ; 
 
 Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love ; 
 
 And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next — • 
 
 But, soft! what day is this? 
 Par. Alonday, my lord. 
 
 Cap. Monday ! ha, ha ! Well, Wednesday is too soon ; 
 
 O' Thursday let it be : o' Thursday, tell her, 20 
 
 She shall be married to this noble earl. 
 
 Will you be ready ? do you like this haste ? 
 
 We '11 keep no great ado ; a friend or two; 
 
 For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, 
 
 It may be thought we held him carelessly, 
 
 Being our kinsman, if we revel much : 
 
 99
 
 Act III. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Therefore we '11 have some half-a-dozen friends, 
 
 And there an end. But what say you to Thursday ? 
 Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. 
 Cap. Well, get you gone : o' Thursday be it then. 30 
 
 Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, 
 
 Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. 
 
 Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! 
 
 Afore me, it is so very very late. 
 
 That we may call it early by and by : 
 
 Good night. [Exeunt, 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 Capulefs orchard. 
 Enter Romeo and Juliet, above, at the window, 
 
 Jul. Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day : 
 It was the nightingale, and not the lark. 
 That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear ; 
 Nightly she sings on yond 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 streaks 
 Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : 
 Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 
 Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops : 10 
 
 I must be gone and live, or stay and die. 
 
 Jul. Yond light is not day-light, I know it, I : 
 It is some meteor that the sun exhales. 
 To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, 
 And light thee on thy way to Mantua : 
 Therefore stay yet ; thou need'st not to be gone. 
 
 Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death ; 
 
 100
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. v. 
 
 I am content, so thou wilt have it so. 
 
 I '11 say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 
 
 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow ; 20 
 
 Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat 
 
 The vaulty heaven so high above our heads : 
 
 I have more care to stay than will to go : 
 
 Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so. 
 
 How is 't, my soul ? let 's talk : it is not day. 
 
 Jul. It is, it is : hie hence, be gone, away ! 
 It is the lark that sings so out of tune. 
 Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. 
 Some say the lark makes sweet division ; 
 This doth not so, for she divideth us : 30 
 
 Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes ; 
 O, now I would they had changed voices too ! 
 Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray. 
 Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day. 
 O, now be gone ; more light and light it grows. 
 
 Rom. More light and light : more dark and dark our woes ! 
 
 Enter Nurse, to the chamber. 
 
 Nurse. Madam! 
 
 Jul. Nurse? 
 
 Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to your chamber : 
 
 The day is broke ; be wary, look about. [Exit. 40 
 Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. 
 Rom. Farewell, farewell ! one kiss, and I '11 descend. 
 
 [Descends. 
 Jul. Art thou gone so ? my lord, my love, my friend ! 
 
 I must hear from thee every day in the hour, 
 
 For in a minute there are many days: 
 
 O, by this count I shall be much in years 
 
 lOI
 
 Act III. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Ere I again behold my Romeo ! 
 Rom. Farewell! 
 
 I will omit no opportunity 
 
 That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. 50 
 
 Jul. O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again ? 
 Rom. I doubt it not ; and all these woes shall serve 
 
 For sweet discourses in our time to come. 
 Jul. O God ! I have an ill-divining soul. 
 
 iMethinks I see thee, now thou art below, 
 As one dead in the bottom of a tomb : 
 Either my eyesight fails or thou look'st pale. 
 Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you : 
 
 Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu ! [Exit. 
 Jul. p fortune, fortune ! all men call thee fickle : 60 
 
 If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him 
 That is renown'd for faith ? Be fickle, fortune ; 
 For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, 
 But send him back. 
 La. Cap. [ Within] Ho, daughter ! are you up ? 
 Jul. Who is 't that calls ? it is my lady mother ! 
 Is she not down so late, or up so early ? 
 What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither ? 
 
 Enter Lady Capulet. 
 
 La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ! 
 
 Jul. Madam, I am not well. 
 
 La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death ? 70 
 
 What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? 
 
 An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live ; 
 
 Therefore have done : some grief shows much of love, 
 
 But much of grief shows still some want of wit. 
 Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. 
 
 102
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. v. 
 
 La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend 
 Which you weep for. 
 
 Jul. Feeling so the loss, 
 
 I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. 
 
 La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death 
 As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. 80 
 
 Jul. What villain, madam? 
 
 La. Cap. That same villain, Romeo. 
 
 Jul. [Aside'\ Villain and he be many miles asunder. 
 God pardon him ! I do, with all my heart ; 
 And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. 
 
 La Cap. That is because the traitor murderer lives. 
 
 Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands : 
 Would none but I might venge my cousin's death ! 
 
 La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not : 
 Then weep no more. I '11 send to one in Mantua, 
 Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, 90 
 Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram 
 That he shall soon keep Tybalt company : 
 And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. 
 
 Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied 
 
 With Romeo, till I behold him — dead — 
 
 Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd. 
 
 Madam, if you could find out but a man 
 
 To bear a poison, I would temper it. 
 
 That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, 
 
 Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors 100 
 
 To hear him named, and cannot come to him, 
 
 To wreak the love I bore my cousin 
 
 Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him ! 
 
 La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I '11 find such a man. 
 But now I '11 tell thee joyful tidings, girl. 
 103
 
 Act III. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Jul. And joy comes well in such a needy time : 
 What are they, I beseech your ladyship? 
 
 La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child ; 
 One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, 
 Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, no 
 
 That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for. 
 
 Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that? 
 
 La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn. 
 The gallant, young, and noble gentleman. 
 The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, 
 Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. 
 
 Jul. "Now, by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too, 
 He shall not make me there a joyful bride. 
 I wonder at this haste ; that I must wed 
 Ere he that should be husband comes to woo. 120 
 I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, 
 I will not marry yet ; and, when I do, I swear, 
 It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate. 
 Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! 
 
 La. Cap. Here comes your father ; tell him so yourself, 
 And see how he will take it at your hands. 
 
 Enter Capulet and Nurse. 
 
 Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew ; 
 But for the sunset of my brother's son 
 It rains downright. 
 
 How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? 130 
 Evermore showering ? In one little body 
 Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind : 
 For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea. 
 Do ebb and flow with tears ; the bark thy body is. 
 Sailing in this salt flood ; the winds, thy sighs : 
 104
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. v. 
 
 Who raging with thy tears, and they with them, 
 Without a sudden calm will overset 
 Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife ! 
 Have you deliver'd to her our decree? 
 
 La. Cap. Ay, sir ; but she will none, she gives you thanks. 
 I would the fool were married to her grave ! 141 
 
 Cap. Soft ! take me with you, take me with you, wife. 
 How ! will she none ? doth she not give us thanks ? 
 Is she not proud ? doth she not count her blest. 
 Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought 
 So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom ? 
 
 Jul. Not proud, you have, but thankful that you have : 
 Proud can I never be of what I hate ; 
 But thankful even for hate that is meant love. 149 
 
 Cap. How, how ! how, how ! chop-logic ! What is this ? 
 ' Proud,' and ' I thank you,' and ' I thank you not ' ; 
 And yet ' not proud ' : mistress minion, you, 
 Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds. 
 But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, 
 To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, 
 Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. 
 Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you baggage ! 
 You tallow-face ! 
 
 La. Cap. Fie, fie ! what, are you mad ? 
 
 Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, 
 
 Hear me with patience but to speak a word. 160 
 
 Cap. Hang thee, young baggage ! disobedient wretch ! 
 I tell thee what : get thee to church o' Thursday, 
 Or never after look me in the face : 
 Speak not, reply not, do not answer me ; 
 My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest 
 That God had lent us but this only child ; 
 
 los
 
 Act III. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 But now I see this one is one too much, 
 And that we have a curse in having her : 
 Out on her, hilding ! 
 
 Nurse. God in heaven bless her ! 
 
 You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. 170 
 
 Cap. And why, my lady wisdom ? hold your tongue. 
 Good prudence ; smatter with your gossips, go. 
 
 Nurse. I speak no treason. 
 
 Cap. O, God ye god-den. 
 
 Nurse. May not one speak ? 
 
 Cap. Peace, you mumbling fool ! 
 
 Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl ; 
 For here we need it not. 
 
 La. Cap. You are too hot. 
 
 Cap. God's bread ! it makes me mad : 
 
 Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play. 
 Alone, in company, still my care hath been 
 To have her match'd : and having now provided 
 A gentleman of noble parentage, 181 
 
 Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, 
 Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts. 
 Proportioned as one's thought would wish a man; 
 And then to have a wretched puling fool, 
 A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender. 
 To answer ' I '11 not wed ; I cannot love, 
 I am too young ; I pray you, pardon me.' 
 But, an you will not wed, I '11 pardon you : 
 Graze where you will, you shall not house with me : 
 Look to 't, think on 't, I do not use to jest. 191 
 
 Thursday is near ; lay hand on heart, advise : 
 An you be mine, I '11 give you to my friend ; 
 An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, 
 1 06
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act III. Sc. v. 
 
 For, by my soul, 1 '11 ne'er acknowledge thee, 
 Nor what is mine shall never do thee good : 
 Trust to 't, bethink you ; I '11 not be forsworn. [Exit. 
 Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds. 
 That sees into the bottom of my grief? 
 O, sweet my mother, cast me not away ! 200 
 
 Delay this marriage for a month, a week ; 
 Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed 
 In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. 
 La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I '11 not speak a word : 
 
 Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit 
 Jul. O God! — O nurse, how shall this be prevented? 
 My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven ; 
 How shall that faith return again to earth, 
 Unless that husband send it me from heaven 
 By leaving earth ? comfort me, counsel me. 210 
 
 Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems 
 Upon so soft a subject as myself ! 
 What say'st thou ? hast thou not a word of joy ? 
 Some comfort, nurse. 
 Nurse. Faith, here it is. 
 
 Romeo is banish 'd, and all the world to nothing. 
 That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you ; 
 Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. 
 Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, 
 I think it best you married with the county. 
 O, he 's a lovely gentleman ! 220 
 
 Romeo 's a dishclout to him : an eagle, madam, 
 Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye 
 As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, 
 I think you are happy in this second match, 
 For it excels your first : or if it did not, 
 107
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were 
 As living here and you no use of him. 
 
 Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart? 
 
 Nurse. And from my soul too ; 
 
 Else beshrew them both. 
 
 Jul. Amen ! 
 
 Nurse. \V\\2X ? 
 
 Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. 230 
 Go in, and tell my lady I am gone, 
 Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell. 
 To make confession and to be absolved. 
 
 Nurse. Marry, I will, and this is wisely done. [Exit. 
 
 Jul. Ancient damnation ! O most wicked fiend ! 
 Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn. 
 Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue 
 Which she hath praised him with.above compare 
 So many thousand times ? Go, counsellor ; 
 Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. 240 
 I '11 to the friar, to know his remedy : 
 If all else fail, myself have power to die. [Exit. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Friar Laurence's cell. 
 
 Enter Friar Laurence and Paris. 
 
 Fri. L. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. 
 Par. My father Capulet will have it so ; 
 
 And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. 
 Fri. L. You say you do not know the lady's mind 
 
 Uneven is the course ; I like it not. 
 108
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, 
 And therefore have I little talk'd of love, 
 For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. 
 Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous 
 That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, lo 
 
 And in his wisdom hastes our marriage. 
 To stop the inundation of her tears, 
 Which, too much minded by herself alone. 
 May be put from her by society : 
 Now do you know the reason of this haste. 
 
 Fri. L. [Aside] I would I knew not why it should be 
 slow'd. 
 Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell. 
 
 Enter Juliet. 
 
 Par. Happily met, my lady and my wife ! 
 
 Jul. That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. 
 
 Par. That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. 20 
 
 Jul. What must be shall be. 
 
 Fri. L. That 's a certain text. 
 
 Par. Come you to make confession to this father? 
 
 Jul. To answer that, I should confess to you. 
 
 Par. Do not deny to him that you love me. 
 
 Jul. I will confess to you that I love him. 
 
 Par. So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. 
 
 Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price, 
 
 Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. 
 Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. 
 Jul. The tears have got small victory by that; 30 
 
 For it was bad enough before their spite. 
 Par. Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report. 
 Jul. That is no slander, sir, which is a truth, 
 
 109
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And what I spake, I spake it to my face. 
 
 Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. 
 
 Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own. 
 Are you at leisure, holy father, now ; 
 Or shall I come to you at evening mass ? 
 
 Fri. L. My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. 
 
 My lord, we must entreat the time alone. 40 
 
 Par. God shield I should disturb devotion ! 
 
 Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye : 
 
 Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss. [Exit. 
 
 Jul. O, shut the door, and when thou hast done so, 
 
 Come weep with me ; past hope, past cure, past help ! 
 
 Fri. L. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief ; 
 It strains me past the compass of my wits : 
 I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, 
 On Thursday next be married to this county. 
 
 Jill. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, 50 
 
 Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it : 
 If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help, 
 Do thou but call my resolution wise, 
 And with this knife I '11 help it presently. 
 God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands ; 
 And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo's seal'd, 
 Shall be the label to another deed, 
 Or my true heart with treacherous revolt 
 Turn to another, this shall slay them both : 
 Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, 60 
 
 Give me some present counsel ; or, behold, 
 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife 
 Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that 
 Which the commission of thy years and art 
 Could to no issue of true honour bring. 
 
 no
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Be not so long to speak ; I long to die, 
 If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. 
 
 Fri. L. Hold, daughter : I do spy a kind of hope, 
 Which craves as desperate an execution 
 As that is desperate which we would prevent. 70 
 If, rather than to marry County Paris, 
 Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, 
 Then is it likely thou wilt undertake 
 A thing like death to chide aw^ay this shame. 
 That copest with death himself to 'scape from it ; 
 And, if thou darest, I '11 give thee remedy. 
 
 Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, 
 From off the battlements of yonder tower ; 
 Or walk in thievish ways ; or bid me lurk 
 Where serpents are ; chain me with roaring bears ; 
 Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, 81 
 
 O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones. 
 With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls ; 
 Or bid me go into a new-made grave, 
 And hide me with a dead man in his shroud ; 
 Things that to hear them told, have made me tremble ; 
 And I will do it without fear or doubt. 
 To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. 
 
 Fri. L. Hold, then ; go home, be merry, give consent 
 
 To marry Paris : Wednesday is to-morrow ; 90 
 
 To-morrow night look that thou lie alone. 
 
 Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber : 
 
 Take thou this vial, being then in bed. 
 
 And this distilled liquor drink thou off : 
 
 When presently through all thy veins shall run 
 
 A cold and drowsy humour ; for no pulse 
 
 Shall keep his native progress, but surcease :
 
 Act IV. Sc. 1. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest ; 
 
 The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade 
 
 To paly ashes ; thy eyes' windows fall, loo 
 
 Like death, when he shuts up the day of life ; 
 
 Each part, deprived of supple government, 
 
 Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death : 
 
 And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death 
 
 Thou shalt continue 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 uncovered on the bier no 
 
 Thou shait 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 inconstant toy nor womanish fear 
 
 Abate thy valour in the acting it. 120 
 
 Jul. Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! 
 
 Fri. L. Hold ; get you gone, be strong and prosperous 
 In this resolve : I '11 send a friar with speed 
 To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. 
 
 Jul. Love give me strength ! and strength shall help afiford. 
 Farewell, dear father ! [Exeunt. 
 
 112
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Hall in Capiilct's house. 
 
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capiilet, Nurse, and two 
 Servingmen. 
 
 Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ. 
 
 [Exit First Servant. 
 
 Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. 
 Sec. Serv. You shall have none ill, sir, for I '11 try if 
 
 they can lick their fingers. 
 Cap. How canst thou try them so? 
 Sec. 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, be gone. [Exit Sec. Servant. 
 
 We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time. lo 
 
 What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence ? 
 Nurse. Ay, forsooth. 
 Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on her : 
 
 A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. 
 
 Enter Juliet. 
 
 Nurse. See where she comes from shrift with merry look. 
 
 Cap. How now, my headstrong! where have you been 
 gadding ? 
 
 Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin 
 Of disobedient opposition 
 To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd 
 By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, 20 
 
 To beg your pardon : pardon, I beseech you ! 
 Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. 
 
 "3
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Cap. Send for the county ; go tell him of this : 
 
 I '11 have this knot knit up to-morrow mornijig. 
 
 Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell, 
 And gave him what becomed love I might, 
 Not stepping o'er the bounds 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. 30 
 
 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 '11 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 : 40 
 
 Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her ; 
 
 I '11 not to bed to-night ; let me alone ; 
 
 I '11 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. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 "4
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. iii. 
 
 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, ho? need you my help? 
 
 Jul. No, madam ; we have cuU'd such necessaries 
 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, lo 
 
 For I am sure you have your hands full all 
 In this so sudden business. 
 
 La. Cap. Good night : 
 
 Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. 
 
 [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. 
 
 Jul. Farewell ! God knows when we shall meet again. 
 I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, ■ 
 That almost freezes up the heat of life : 
 I '11 call them back again to comfort me. 
 Nurse! — What should she do here? 
 My dismal scene I needs must act alone. 
 Come, vial. 20 
 
 What if this mixture do not work at all ? 
 Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? 
 No, no : this shall forbid it. Lie thou there. 
 
 [Laying down a dagger, 
 
 115
 
 Act IV. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 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. 
 How if, when I am laid into the tomb, 30 
 
 I wake before the time that Romeo 
 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 this many hundred years the bones 40 
 Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd ; 
 Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, 
 Lies festering 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. 
 Environed with all these hideous fears ? 50 
 
 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 
 116
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. iv. 
 
 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 falls upon her bed, within the curtains. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Hall in Capu let's house. 
 
 Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse. 
 
 La. Cap. Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, 
 
 nurse. 
 Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. 
 
 Enter Capulet. 
 
 Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir ! the second cock hath crow'd, 
 
 The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock : 
 
 Look to the baked meats, good Angelica : 
 
 Spare not for cost. 
 Nurse. Go, you cot-quean, go, 
 
 Get you to bed ; faith, you '11 be sick to-morrow 
 
 For this night's watching. 
 Cap. No, not a whit : what ! I have watch 'd ere now 
 
 All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. lo 
 
 La. Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time ; 
 
 But I will watch you from such watching now. 
 
 [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. 
 Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood! 
 
 Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, and logs, 
 and baskets. 
 
 Now, fellow, 
 What 's there ? 
 First Serv. Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what. 
 
 117
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Cap. Make haste, make haste. [Exit First Serv.] Sirrah, 
 fetch drier logs : 
 Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. 
 Sec. Serv. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, 
 
 And never trouble Peter for the matter. 
 Cap. Mass, and well said ; a merry whoreson, ha ! 
 
 Thou shalt be logger-head. [Exit Sec. Serv.^ Good 
 faith, 'tis day : 20 
 
 The county will be here with music straight. 
 For so he said he would. [Music within.] I hear 
 
 him near. 
 Nurse ! Wife ! What, ho ! What, nurse, I say ! 
 
 Re-enter Nurse. 
 
 Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up ; 
 I '11 go and chat with Paris : hie, make haste. 
 Make haste : the bridegroom he is come already : 
 Make haste, I say. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. t 
 
 Juliet's chamber. 
 
 Enter Nurse. 
 
 Nurse. Mistress ! what, mistress ! Juliet ! fast, I warrant 
 her, she : 
 Why, lamb ! why, lady ! fie, you slug-a-bed ! 
 W^hy, love, I say ! madam ! sweet-heart ! why, bride ! 
 What, not a word ? you take your pennyworths 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 ! 
 
 ^ 118
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam ! 
 Ay, let the county take you in your bed ; lo 
 
 He '11 fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be ? 
 
 [Undrazi's the curtains. 
 What, dress'd ! and in your clothes ! and down 
 
 again ! 
 X must needs wake you. Lady ! lady ! lady ! 
 Alas, alas I Help, help ! my lady 's dead ! 
 O, well-a-day, that ever I was born ! 
 Some aqua-vitae, ho ! My lord ! my lady ! 
 
 Enter Lady Capiilet. 
 
 La. Cap. What noise is here ? 
 
 Nurse. O lamentable day ! 
 
 La. Cap. What is the matter ? 
 
 Nurse. 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. 20 
 
 Help, help ! call help. 
 
 Enter Capiilet. 
 
 Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth ; her lord is come. 
 Nurse. She 's dead, deceased, she 's dead ; alack the day ! 
 La. Cap. Alack the day, she 's dead, she 's dead, she 's 
 
 dead I 
 Cap. Ha ! let me see her. Out, alas ! she 's cold ; 
 
 Her blood is settled and her joints are stiff; 
 
 Life and these lips have long been separated. 
 
 Death lies on her like an untimely frost 
 
 Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. 
 Nurse. O lamentable day ! 
 La. Cap. O woeful time ! 30 
 
 119 J
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Cap. Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, 
 Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak. 
 
 Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians. 
 
 Fri. L. 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 wife : 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, living, all is Death's. 40 
 
 Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face, 
 
 And doth it give me such a sight as this ? 
 La. Cap. Accurst, 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 woe I O woeful, woeful, woeful day ! 
 
 Most lamentable day, most woeful day, 50 
 
 That ever, ever, I did yet behold ! 
 
 O day I O day I O day ! O hateful day ! 
 
 Never was seen so black a day as this : 
 
 O woeful day, O woeful day ! 
 Par. Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain, 
 
 Most detestable death, by thee beguiled. 
 
 By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown ! 
 
 O love ! O life ! not life, but love in death I 
 Cap. Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! 
 
 Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now 60 
 
 # 120
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 To murder, murder our solemnity? 
 O child ! O child ! my soul, and not my child ! 
 Dead art thou ! Alack, my child is dead ; 
 And with my child my joys are buried! 
 
 Fri. L. 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. 70 
 
 The most you sought was her promotion, 
 For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced : 
 And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced 
 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, 80 
 
 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. 90 
 
 Fri. L. Sir, go you in ; and, madam, go with him ; 
 And go, Sir Paris ; every one prepare 
 121
 
 Act IV. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 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. 
 
 [Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar. 
 First 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. 
 
 First Mus. Ay, by my troth, the case may be 
 
 amended. lOO 
 
 Enter Peter. 
 
 Pet. Musicians, O, musicians, ' Heart's ease, Heart's 
 
 ease : ' O, an you will have me live, play 
 
 ' Heart's ease.' 
 First Mus. Why * Heart's ease ' ? 
 Pet. O, musicians, because my heart itself plays ' My 
 
 heart is full of woe : ' O, play me some merry 
 
 dump, to comfort me. 
 First Mus. Not a dump we ; 'tis no time to play now. 
 Pet. You will not then? 
 
 First Mus. No. no 
 
 Pet. I will then give it you soundly. 
 First Mus. What will you give us ? 
 Pet. No money, on my faith, but the glee^J I will 
 
 give you the minstrel. 
 First 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 '11 re 
 
 you, I '11 fa you ; do you note me ? 
 First Mus. An you re us and fa us, you note us. 
 Sec. Mus. Pray you, put up your dagger, and put I20 
 
 out your wit. 
 Pet. Then have at you with my wit ! I will dry-beat 
 
 122
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 First Mils. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. 
 
 P^L Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck ? 131 
 
 Sec. Mus. I say, ' silver sound,' because musicians 
 sound for silver. 
 
 Pet. Pretty too ! What say you, James Soundpost ? 
 
 Third 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 musicians have no gold for sounding : 
 
 ' Then music with her silver sound 
 With speedy help doth lend redress.' [Exit. 
 
 First Mils. What a pestilent knave is this same ! 141 
 
 Sec. Mus. Hang him, Jack ! Come, we '11 in here ; 
 
 tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Mantua. A street. 
 
 Enter Romeo. 
 
 Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, 
 My dreams presage some joyful news at hand : 
 My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne, 
 
 123
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 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 breathed such life with kisses in my lips, 
 
 That I revived and was an emperor. 
 
 Ah me ! how sweet is love itself possess'd, lo 
 
 When but love's shadows are so rich in joy ! 
 
 Enter Balthasar, hooted^ 
 
 News from Verona ! How now, Balthasar ! 
 
 Dost thou 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 immortal part with angels lives. 
 
 I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, 20 
 
 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 e'en 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. I do beseech you, sir, have patience : 
 
 Your looks are pale and wild, and do import 
 
 Some misadventure. 
 Rom. Tush, thou art deceived : 
 
 Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. 30 
 
 Hast thou no letters to me from the friar ? 
 Bal. No, my good lord. 
 
 124
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Rom. No matter : get thee gone, 
 
 And hire those horses ; I '11 be with thee straig ht. ICCsuu 
 
 [Exit Balthasar.ljig^^^ 
 Well, Tu lie^,J[ j\-ill lie with the e, torniglit. /'(^S^* 
 
 Let 's see for means : — O mischief, thou art swift //» 
 
 And hereabouts a' dwells, which late I noted ^*^*<ic<^ 
 
 To enter in the thong-hts of desp eTatejrien ! 
 I do remember an apothecary, 
 
 In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, 
 
 Culling of simples ; meagre were his looks ; 40 
 
 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-shaped 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 scattered, to make up a show. 
 
 Noting this penury, to myself I said. 
 
 An if a man did need a poison now, 50 
 
 Whose sale is present death in Mantua, 
 
 Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him. 
 
 O, this same thought did but forerun 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 ! 
 
 Enter Apothecary. 
 
 Ap. Wlio calls so loud? 
 
 Rom. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor ; 
 Hold, there is forty ducats : let me have 
 
 125
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 A dram of poison ; such soon-speeding gear 60 
 
 As will disperse itself through all the veins, 
 
 That the life-weary taker may fall dead, 
 
 And that the trunk may be discharged of breath 
 
 As violently as hasty powder fired 
 
 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 f ear'st to die ? famine is in thy cheeks. 
 Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes, 70 
 
 Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back, 
 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 Hquid thing you will, 
 
 And drink it off ; and, if you had the strength 
 Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. 
 
 Rom. There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, 80 
 Doing more murder in this loathsome world. 
 Than these poor compounds that thou mayst 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. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 126
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Friar Laurence's cell. 
 Enter Friar John. 
 Fri. J. Holy Franciscan friar ! brother, ho ! 
 
 Enter Friar Laurence. 
 
 Fri. L. 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. 
 Fri. J. Going to find a bare-foot 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, lo 
 
 Seal'd up the doors and would not let us forth ; 
 
 So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. 
 Fri. L. Who bare my letter then to Romeo ? 
 Fri. J. I could not send it, — here it is again, — 
 
 Nor get a messenger to bring it thee. 
 
 So fearful were they of infection. 
 Fri. L. 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 ; 20 
 
 Get me an iron crow and bring it straight 
 
 Unto my cell. 
 Fri. J. Brother, I '11 go and bring it thee. [Exit. 
 
 Fri. L. Now must I to the monument alone ; 
 
 Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake : 
 127
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 She will beshrew me much that Romeo 
 Hath had no notice of these accidents ; 
 But I will write again to Mantua, 
 And keep her at my cell till Romeo come : 
 Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! 30 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A churchyard ; in it a monument belonging to the 
 Capulets. 
 
 Enter Paris and his Page, bearing iiozvers and a torch. 
 
 Par. Give me thy torch, boy : hence, and stand aloof : 
 Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. 
 Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along. 
 Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground ; 
 So shall no foot upon the churchyard 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. [Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone 10 
 
 Here in the churchyard ; yet I will adventure. 
 
 [Retires. 
 Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew, — 
 O woe ! thy canopy is dust and stones ; — 
 Which with sweet water nightly I will dew. 
 
 Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans : 
 The obsequies that I for thee will keep 
 Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. 
 
 [The Page whistles. 
 The boy gives warning something doth approach. 
 What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, 
 128
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 To cross my obsequies and true love's rite ? 20 
 
 What, with a torch ! Muffle me, night, a while. 
 
 [Retires. 
 
 Enter Romeo and Balthasar, zvith a torch, mattock, etc. 
 
 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 thence from her dead finger 30 
 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 farther shall intend to do, 
 By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint 
 And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs : 
 The time and my intents are savage-wild. 
 More fierce and more inexorable by far 
 Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. 
 
 Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. 40 
 
 Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou 
 that: 
 Live, and be prosperous : and farewell, good fellow. 
 
 Bal. [Aside^^ For all this same, I '11 hide me hereabout : 
 His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [Retires. 
 
 Rom. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, 
 Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth. 
 Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, 
 129
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And in despite I '11 cram thee with more food. 
 
 [Opens the tomb. 
 
 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, 51 
 
 And here is come to do some villanous shame 
 To the dead bodies : I will apprehend him. 
 
 [Comes forward. 
 Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile IMontague ! 
 Can vengeance be pursued 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 ; 60 
 Let them affright thee. . I beseech thee, youth. 
 Put not another sin upon my head. 
 By urging me to fury : O, be gone ! 
 By heaven, I love thee better than myself. 
 For I come hither arm'd against myself : 
 Stay not, be gone : live, and hereafter say, 
 A madman's mercy bid thee run away. 
 
 Par. I do defy thy conjurations 
 
 And apprehend thee for a felon here. 
 
 Ro7n. Wilt thou provoke me ? then have at thee, boy ! 70 
 
 [They fight. 
 
 Page. O Lord, they fight ! I will go call the watch. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Par. 0,1 am slain! [Falls.] If thou be merciful, 
 
 Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [Dies. 
 
 Rom. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face : 
 Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris ! 
 130
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 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 ? 
 
 Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, 80 
 
 To think it was so ? O, give me thy hand, 
 
 One writ with me in sour misfortune's book ! 
 
 I '11 bur}^ 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. 
 How oft when men are at the point of death 
 Have they been merry ! which their keepers call 
 A lightning before death : O, how may I ^^ ^ 
 
 Call this a lightning ? O my love ! my wif e ! / ii^JLficcf 
 Death, that hath suck'd the honev of thv bre ath/^ 
 Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty : [ "T^ Py 
 
 Thou art not conquer'd ; beati ty^ ensign ye t /" ^^^^ 
 I s crimson in t hy lips and in thy _cheeks, j Ax^^ ^ 
 
 And death ^s pale flag is not ' advanced ther e. I^ujLlo d2td 
 Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? / ^/a^*^ s 
 O, what more favour can I do to thee ' -^ / 
 
 Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain ^w-€o& 
 To sunder his that was thine enemy? 100 
 
 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 still will stay with thee, 
 
 131
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 And never from this palace of dim night 
 
 Depart again : here, here will I remain 
 
 With worms that are thy chamber-maids ; O, here 
 
 Will I set up my everlastingi xest, no 
 
 And _shake the yoke of inauspicious sta rs 
 
 From this world-\yearied 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. ii8 
 
 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 churchyard, Friar Laurence, 
 with a lantern, crozu, and spade. 
 
 Fri. L. Saint Francis be my speed ! how oft to-night 
 
 Have my old feet stumbled at graves ! Who 's there ? 
 
 Bal. Here 's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. 
 
 Fri. L. 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. 
 
 Bal. It doth so, holy sir ; and there 's my master, 
 One that you love. 
 
 Fri. L. Who is it ? 
 
 Bal. Romeo. 
 
 Fri. L. How long hath he been there ? 
 
 Bal. Full half an hour. 130 
 
 Fri. L. Go with me to the vault. 
 
 Bal. I dare not, sir : 
 
 132
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 My master knows not but I am gone hence ; 
 
 And fearfully did menace me with death, 
 
 If I did stay to look on his intents. 
 Fri. L. Stay, then ; I '11 go alone : fear comes upon me ; 
 
 O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. 
 Bal. As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, 
 
 I dreamt my master and another fought, 
 
 And that my master slew him. 
 Fri. L. Romeo ! [Advances. 
 
 Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains 140 
 
 The stony entrance of this sepulchre? 
 
 What mean these masterless and gory swords 
 
 To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? 
 
 [Enters the tomb. 
 
 Romeo ! O, pale ! Who else ? what, Paris too ? 
 
 And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour 
 
 Is guilty of this lamentable chance ! 
 
 The lady stirs. [Juliet wakes, 
 
 Jul. O comfortable friar ! where is my lord ? 
 
 I do remember well where I should be, 149 
 
 And there I am : where is my Romeo ? 
 
 [Noise within. 
 Fri. L. I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest 
 
 Of death, contagion and unnatural sleep: 
 
 A ^reater po we£^thanj^_caii.XQ_ntlgdict 
 
 H ath thwarted our int ents : come, come away : 
 
 Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead 
 
 And Paris too : come, I '11 dispose of thee 
 
 Among a sisterhood of holy nuns : 
 
 Stay not to question, for the watch is coming ; 
 
 Come, go, good Juliet ; I dare no longer stay. 
 
 Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. 160 
 
 [Exit Fri. L. 
 
 133
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? 
 
 Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end : 
 
 O churl ! drunk all, and left no friendly drop 
 
 To help me after? I will kiss thy lips ; 
 
 Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, 
 
 To make me die with a restorative. [Kisses him. 
 
 Thy lips are warm. 
 First Watch. [Within] Lead, boy: w^hich way? 
 Jul. Yea, noise ? then I '11 be brief. O happy dagger ! 
 
 [Snatching Romeo's dagger. 
 
 This Is thy sheath [Stabs herself] ; there rust, and let 
 me die. [Falls on Romeo's body, and dies. 
 
 Enter Watch, zvith the Page of Paris. 
 
 Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth 
 burn. 171 
 
 First Watch. The ground is bloody ; search about the 
 churchyard : 
 Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. 
 Pitiful sight ! here lies the county slain ; 
 And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, 
 Who here hath lain this two days buried. 
 Go, tell the prince : run to ^he Capulets : 
 Raise up the Montagues : some others search : 
 We see the ground whereon these woes do lie ; 
 But the true ground of all these piteous woes 180 
 We cannnot without circumstance descry. 
 
 Re-enter some of the Watch, zi'ith Balthasar. 
 
 Sec. Watch. Here 's Romeo's man ; we found him in the 
 
 churchyard. 
 First Watch. Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. 
 
 134
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Re-enter Friar Laurence, and another Watchman, 
 
 Third Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: 
 We took this mattock and this spade from him, 
 As he was coming from this churchyard's side. 
 
 First Watch. A great suspicion : stay the friar too. 
 
 Enter the Prince and Attendants, 
 
 Prince. What misadventure is so early up. 
 
 That calls our person from our morning rest? 
 
 Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others. 
 
 Cap. What should it be that they so shriek abroad ? 190 
 La. Cap. The people in the street cry Romeo, 
 
 Some Juliet, and some Paris, and all run 
 
 With open outcry toward our monument. 
 Prince. What fear is this which startles in our ears? 
 First Watch. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain ; 
 
 And Romeo dead : and Juliet, dead before. 
 
 Warm and new kill'd. 
 Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. 
 First Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man, 
 
 With instruments upon them fit to open 200 
 
 These dead men's tombs. 
 Cap. O heavens ! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds ! 
 
 This dagger hath mista'en, for, lo, his house 
 
 Is empty on the back of Montague, 
 
 And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom ! 
 La. Cap. O me ! this sight of death is as a bell 
 
 That warns my old age to a sepulchre. 
 
 Enter Montague and others. 
 
 Prince. Come, Montague ; for thou art early up. 
 To see thy son and heir more early down. 
 
 135
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night ; 210 
 
 Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath : 
 What further woe conspires against mine age? 
 
 Prince. Look, and thou shalt see. 
 
 Mon. O thou untaught ! what manners is in this, 
 To press before thy father to a grave? 
 
 Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while. 
 Till we can clear these ambiguities. 
 And know their spring, their head, their true descent ; 
 And then will I be general of your woes. 
 And lead you even to death : meantime forbear, 
 And let mischance be slave to patience. 221 
 
 Bring forth the parties of suspicion. 
 
 Fri. L. I am the greatest, able to do least, 
 
 Yet most suspected, as the time and place 
 Doth make against me, of this direful murder ; 
 And here I stand, both to impeach and purge 
 Myself condemned and myself excused. 
 
 Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. 
 
 Fri. L. I will be brief, for my short date of breath 
 
 Is not so long as is a tedious tale. 230 
 
 Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet ; 
 And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife : 
 I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day 
 Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death 
 Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city ; 
 For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. 
 You, to remove that siege of grief from her, 
 Betroth'd and would have married her perforce 
 To County Paris : then comes she to me. 
 And with wild looks bid me devise some means 240 
 To rid her from this second marriage, 
 
 136
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Or in my cell there would she kill herself. 
 
 Then gave I her, so tutor' d by my art, 
 
 A sleeping potion ; which so took effect 
 
 As I intended, for it wrought on her 
 
 The form of death : meantime I writ to Romeo, 
 
 That he should hither come as this dire night, 
 
 To help to take her from her borrow'd grave. 
 
 Being the time the potion's force should cease. 
 
 But he which bore my letter, Friar John, 250 
 
 Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight 
 
 Return'd my letter back. Then all alone 
 
 At the prefixed hour of her waking 
 
 Came I to take her from her kindred's vault, 
 
 Meaning to keep her closely at my cell 
 
 Till I conveniently could send to Romeo : 
 
 But when I came, some minute ere the time 
 
 Of her awaking, here untimely lay 
 
 The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. 
 
 She wakes, and I entreated her come forth, 260 
 
 And bear this work of heaven with patience : 
 
 But then a noise did scare me from the tomb, 
 
 And she too desperate would not go with me, 
 
 But, as it seems, did violence on herself. 
 
 All this I know ; and to the marriage 
 
 Her nurse is privy : and, if aught in this 
 
 Miscarried by my fault, let my old life 
 
 Be sacrificed some hour before his time 
 
 Unto the rigour of severest law. 
 
 Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man. 270 
 Where 's Romeo's man ? what can he say in this ? 
 
 Bah I brought my master news of JuUet's death, 
 And then in post he came from Mantua 
 137
 
 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 To this same place, to this same monument. 
 
 This letter he early bid me give his father, 
 
 And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, 
 
 If I departed not and left him there. 
 Prince. Give me the letter ; I will look on it. 
 
 Where is the county's page, that raised the watch ? 
 
 Sirrah, what made your master in this place ? 280 
 Page. He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave ; 
 
 And bid me stand aloof, and so I did : 
 
 Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb ; 
 
 And by and by my master drew on him ; 
 
 And then I ran away to call the watch. 
 Prince. This letter doth make good the friar's words, 
 
 Their course of love, the tidings of her death : 
 
 And here he writes that he did buy a poison 
 
 Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal 
 
 Came to this vault to die and lie with Juliet. 290 
 
 Where be these enemies ? Capulet ! Montague ! 
 
 See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, 
 
 Tlmtjieayen, finds means to kill your joys with love! 
 
 And I, for winking at your discords too. 
 
 Have lost a brace of kinsmen : all are punish'd. 
 Cap. O brother Montague, give me thy hand : 
 
 This is my daughter's jointure, for no more 
 
 Can I demand. 
 Mon. But I can give thee more : 
 
 For I will raise her statue in pure gold ; 
 
 That whiles Verona by that name is known, 3CX) j 
 
 There shall no figure at such rate be set m 
 
 As that of true and faithful Juliet. 
 Cap. As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie ; 
 
 Poor sacrifices of our enmity ! 
 
 138
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 Prince, A glooming peace this morning with it brings ; 
 
 The sun for sorrow will not show his head : 
 
 Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things ; 
 
 Some shall be pardon'd and some punished : 
 
 For never was a story of more woe 
 
 Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. [Exeunt. 310 
 
 139
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Glossary, 
 
 A, one, the same; 11. iv. 213. 
 ^l.A', he; I. iii. 40. 
 
 Abused, disfigured; IV. i. 29. 
 Adam cupid (v. Note) ; II. i. 
 
 13. 
 Advanced, raised ; V. iii. 96. 
 Adventure, venture ; II. ii. 84. 
 Advise, consider, think over it ; 
 
 III. V. 192. 
 Afeard, afraid ; II. ii. 139. 
 Affecting, affected; II. iv. 29. 
 \.Affections, inclinations; I. i. 
 
 125. 
 Affray, frighten; III. v. 2>2)- 
 Afore, before ; II. iv. 166. 
 Afore me, "by my life"; III. 
 
 iv. 34. 
 Against, in preparation of; III. 
 
 iv. 2>2. 
 V, Agate-stone, figures cut in the 
 
 agate-stone, much worn in 
 
 rings; I. iv. 55. 
 All along, at your full length ; 
 
 V. iii. 3. 
 \All so soon, as soon {all used 
 
 intensively) ; I. i. 132. 
 s^jAmbling, moving in an affected 
 
 manner (used contemptuous- 
 ly) ; I. iv. II. 
 jAmhuscadoes, ambuscades ; I. 
 
 iv. 84. 
 Amerce, punish ; III. i. 192. 
 .An, if; I. i. 4. 
 An if, if; V. i. 50. 
 Ancient, old, aged ; II. iii. 74. 
 
 lAntic face, quaint mask ; I. v. 58. 
 
 Apace, quickly ; II. iv. 223. 
 
 Ape, a term of endearment or 
 pity; II. i. 16. 
 
 Appertaining rage to, rage be- 
 longing to; II. i. 64. 
 
 Apt to, ready for ; III. i. 43. 
 
 Apt unto, ready for; III. iii. 
 157- 
 
 As, as if; II. v. 16. 
 
 , namely; IV. iii. 39. 
 
 Ascend, ascend to ; III. iii. 147. 
 
 Aspired, mounted to; III. i. 
 119. 
 
 Associate, accompany ; V. ii. 6. 
 
 As that, as to that heart; II. 
 ii. 124. 
 
 y^'hwart, across, over [so 
 Quarto i ; Quartos, Folios, 
 "ouer"]; I. iv. 58. 
 
 Atomies = atoms, little crea- 
 tures as tiny as atoms [Quar- 
 to I, "Atomi"; Quarto 2, 
 " ottamie ""] ; I. iv. 57. 
 
 Attach, arrest; V. iii. 173. 
 
 Attending, attentive; II. ii. 167. 
 
 Baked meats, pastry; IV. iv. 5. 
 
 Bandy, beat to and fro, hurry; 
 II. v. 14. 
 
 Bandying, contending, quarrel- 
 ling; III. i. 90. 
 
 Banquet, dessert; I. v. 24. 
 
 Bare, lean, poor; V. i. 68. 
 
 , did bare; V. ii. 13. 
 
 140
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Bating, to flap or flutter the 
 wings ; a term in falconry 
 (Steevens' emendation ; 
 Quartos 2, 3, Folios i, 2, 3, 
 "bayting") ; III. ii. 14. 
 l/^ear a brain, have a good 
 memory; I. iii. 29. 
 
 Becomcd, becoming; IV. ii. 26. 
 
 Behovefiil, befitting, becoming; 
 IV. iii. 8. 
 
 Bent, inclination, disposition.; 
 II. ii. 143. 
 
 Bepaint, paint ; II. ii. 86. 
 
 Bescreen'd, screened ; hidden ; 
 II. ii. 52. 
 
 Betossed, deeply agitated ; V. 
 iii. 76. 
 
 Better tempered, of better qual- 
 ity; III. iii. 115. 
 % I Bill, "a kind of pike or hal- 
 berdt, formerly carried by 
 the English infantry, and af- 
 terwards the usual weapon 
 of watchmen " ; I. i. 72. 
 \fiite my thumb; I. i. 41. {Cp. 
 illustration.) 
 
 Blaze, make known ; III. iii. 
 151- 
 
 Blazon, trumpet forth ; II. vi. 
 26. 
 
 Brace, couple ; V. iii. 295. 
 
 Brief, briefly; III. iii. 174. 
 
 Broad goose ; " far and wide a 
 b. g.," prob. = far and wide 
 abroad, a goose (some lost 
 allusion perhaps underlies 
 the quibble) ; II. iv. 88. 
 \jBroken, cracked ; I. ii. 53. 
 
 Brow, face, countenance (Col- 
 lier MS. and Singer MS., 
 "bow": III. V. 20, 
 
 Burn daylight, "a proverbial 
 expression used when can- 
 dles are lighted in the day- 
 time" (Steevens) ; hence, su- 
 perfluous actions in general ; 
 here " waste time " ; I. iv. 43. 
 
 Butt-shaft, " a kind of arrow 
 used for shooting at butts; 
 formed without a barb, so 
 as to be easily extracted" 
 (Nares) ; II. iv. 16. 
 
 By and by, directly; II. ii. 152. 
 
 From Jacques Lagniet's Reciieil des 
 plus Illustris Proverbes {c- 1650). 
 
 \^y my fay, by my faith (a 
 slight oath) ; I. v. 127. 
 By my troth, by my truth, on 
 
 my word; II. iv. 119. 
 ^y the rood, by the cross (a 
 slight oath) ; I. iii. 36. 
 
 Catiff, wretched, miserable ; V. 
 
 i. 52. 
 Canker, canker-worm ; II. iii. 
 
 30. 
 
 141
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Captain of compliments, " com- 
 plete master of all the laws 
 of ceremony " ; II. iv. 20, 
 ]yCarry coals, endure affronts 
 (the carriers of coal, prob. 
 charcoal, were the lowest 
 menials; cp. "blackguard," 
 originally the attendants 
 upon the royal household's 
 progress) ; I. i. i. 
 
 Chapless, without jaws; IV. i. 
 
 Charge, weight ; V. ii. 18. 
 '\jCheerly, cheerily; I. v. 16. 
 
 Cheveril, the skin of the kid; 
 II. iv. 84. 
 ^Chinks, a popular term for 
 money; I. v. 118. 
 
 Chap-logic, sophist; III. v. 150. 
 
 Circumstance, details; II. v. 36. 
 
 Civil, sober, grave; III. ii. 10. 
 
 Close, closely, very near; III. 
 i. 40. 
 Closed, enclosed; I. iv. no. 
 
 Closely, secretly; V. iii. 255. 
 
 Closet, chamber ; IV. ii, 33. 
 
 Cockatrice (called also basi- 
 lisk) ; the fabulous serpent, 
 said to kill by a look; III. ii. 
 
 yCock-a-hoop; " set c.-a-h.," i.e. 
 
 / pick a quarrel ; I. v. 82. 
 ^Cockerel, young cock ; I. iii. 53. 
 
 Coil, ado, confusion ; II. v. 67. 
 
 Coldly, coolly, calmly ; III. i. 53. 
 .Come near ye, hit it; I. v. 21. 
 
 Comfortable, helpful, full of 
 comfort; V. iii. 148. 
 
 Commission, warrant ; IV. i. 64. 
 
 Concealed, " secretly mar- 
 ried " ; III. iii. 98. 
 
 Conceit, imagination ; II. vi. 30. 
 
 Concludes, ends ; III. i. 187. 
 
 Conduct, conductor; V. iii. 116. 
 
 Conduit, referring to the hu- 
 man figures on wells which 
 spouted water; III. v. 130. 
 
 Confounds, destroys ; II. vi. 13. 
 
 Conjurations, entreaties (Quar- 
 to 2, "" commiration " ; Quarto 
 3, Folio I, " commissera- 
 tion " ; Capell, " conjura- 
 tion, etc.") ; V. iii. 68. 
 
 Consort, used with play on the 
 two meanings of the word 
 (i.) a company of musicians, 
 (ii.) associate, keep com- 
 pany; III. i. 47. 
 
 , consort with, keep com- 
 pany with ; III. i. 132. 
 
 Consorted, associated; II. i. 31. 
 
 Consort'st, dost keep company ; 
 III. i. 46. 
 
 pontent thee, keep your tem- 
 
 ' per; I. v. 66. 
 
 iContrary, contradict, oppose; 
 I. v. 86. 
 
 Convoy, conveyance ; II. iv. 
 x96. 
 
 Corse, corpse ; III. ii. 128. 
 
 Cot-quean, a man who busies 
 himself with women's busi- 
 ness ; IV. iv. 6. 
 
 Counterfeit; " gave the c," 
 played a trick; II. iv. 48. 
 
 C^ountervail, balance; II. vi. 4. 
 
 £ounty, count; I. iii. 106. 
 
 Court-cupboard, side-board for 
 setting out plate ; I. v. 8. 
 
 Courtship, courtliness; III. iii. 
 
 34- 
 Cousin, a term used for any 
 kinsman or kinswoman ; I. v. 
 31. 
 
 142
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 I G^ver, book-cover; used with 
 ^ a quibble on the law phrase 
 for a married woman, who is 
 styled a femme couverte 
 (feme covert) in law French 
 (Mason) ; I. iii. 88. 
 
 Cross, perverse ; IV. iii. 5. 
 
 , thwart, hinder ; V. iii. 20. 
 
 Crotchets, used with play upon 
 both senses of the word (i.) 
 whims, fancies, (ii.) notes in 
 music; IV. v. 120. 
 
 Crow, crow-bar; V. ii. 21. 
 
 Crow-^^^/j^r, scarecrow ; I.iv.6. 
 
 Crush a cup (cp. modern 
 phrase crack a bottle) ; I. ii. 
 82. 
 
 Cunning, skill, art; II. ii. loi. 
 
 Cures with, is cured by; I. ii. 
 49. 
 
 Curfezv-bell, the bell ordinarily 
 used for the ringing of the 
 curfew at night ; IV. iv, 4. 
 
 Cynthia, the moon; III. v. 20. 
 
 Damnation; "ancient d.," old 
 
 sinner ; III. v. 235. 
 Dared, challenged ; used with 
 
 play upon the two senses of 
 
 the word; II. iv. 12. 
 Dares, ventures ; II. iv. 12. 
 Date, time, duration ; I. iv. 108. 
 Date is out, time has long gone 
 
 by, is out of fashion ; I. iv. 3. 
 Dateless, without date, without 
 
 limit; V. iii. 115. 
 Dear, true (Quarto i. 
 
 " meere ") ; III. iii. 28. 
 
 , important ; V. ii. 19. 
 
 Death, to death; III. i. 136. 
 Defence, defensive weapons ; 
 
 III. iii. 134. 
 
 Demesnes, landed estates (Fo- 
 lio 4, "demeans"); III. v. 
 182. 
 
 Deny, refuse ; I. v. 20. 
 
 Depart, go away, part; III. i. 
 54. 
 
 Defend, impend; III. i. 121. 
 
 Desperate, reckless; III. iv. 12. 
 
 Despite, defiance ; V. iii. 48. 
 
 Determine of, decide ; III. ii. 
 51. 
 
 Dew-dropping south, rainy 
 south (it was a common be- 
 lief that all diseases and nox- 
 ious vapours came from the 
 south) ; I. iv. 103. 
 
 Digressing, deviating; III. iii. 
 127. 
 
 Discover, reveal ; III. i. 144. 
 
 Discovered, betrayed; II. ii. 
 106. 
 
 Dislike, displease; II. ii. 61. 
 
 Disparagement, injury, harm; 
 I. v. 72. 
 
 Displant, transplant; III. iii. 
 59- 
 
 Dispute, argue, reason (Folios 
 I, 2, " dispaire" ; Folios 3, 4, 
 "despair") ', III. iii. 63. • 
 
 Distemperature, disease ; II. iii. 
 40. 
 
 Distcmper'd, diseased ; II. iii. 
 
 Distraught, distracted; IV. iii. 
 49. 
 
 Division, variation, modula- 
 tion ; III. V. 29. 
 
 Doctrine, instruction ; I. i. 236. 
 
 Doff, put off; II. ii. 47. 
 
 Doubt, fear, distrust ; V. iii. 44. 
 
 Drave, did drive, urged (Quar- 
 to 2, " driue") ; I. i. 119. 
 
 143
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Drift, plan, scheme; IV. i. 114. 
 
 Dry-heat, thrash; III. i. 80. 
 
 Dump, a melancholy strain in 
 music ; IV. v. 108. 
 
 Dun's the mouse, keep still (a 
 proverbial expression not yet 
 explained) ; v. Note ; I. iv. 
 
 Elf-locks, hair supposed to be 
 matted together by the elves 
 (Quartos 2, 3, Folio i, " Elk- 
 locks") ; I. iv. 90. 
 
 Empty, hungry ; V. iii. 39. 
 
 Encounter, meeting ; 11. vi. 29. 
 
 Endart, dart [Quarto i, "en- 
 gage " ; Pope, " ingage "] ; I. 
 iii. 98. 
 
 Enforce, force ; V. iii. 47. 
 
 Enpierced, pierced through ; I. 
 iv. 19. 
 
 Entrance (trisyllabic) ; I. iv. 8. 
 
 Envious, malignant ; III. ii. 40. 
 
 Ethiop, a native of Ethiopia ; I. 
 v. 48. 
 
 Evening mass, the practice of 
 saying mass in the afternoon 
 lingered on for some time ; 
 IV. i. 38. 
 
 Ex^pire, end; I. iv. 109. 
 
 Extremes, extremities, suffer- 
 ings; IV. i. 62. 
 
 Extremity ; " everything in e.," 
 i.e. at a desperate pass ; I. iii. 
 103. 
 
 Fain, gladly; II. ii. 88. 
 
 Fair, fair one, beautiful wo- 
 man ; Prol, II. 3. 
 
 Fantastic oes, coxcombs [Ca- 
 pell's reading (from Quarto 
 i) ; Quartos 2, 3, 4, Folios i, 
 2, " phantacies" ', Quarto 5, 
 
 FoHos 3, 4, "phantasies" ', 
 Collier MS., " phantas- 
 tickes ''] ; II. iv. 29. 
 
 Farewell compliment, away 
 with ceremony ; II. ii. 89. 
 
 Fearful, full of fear ; III. iii. i. 
 
 Feeling, heartfelt ; III. v. 75. 
 
 Fee-simple, hereditary and un- 
 conditional property ; III. i. 
 34. 
 
 Festering, rotting; IV. iii. 43. 
 
 Fettle, prepare; III. v. 154, 
 
 Fine, penalty (Warburton's 
 emendation of Quartos, Fo- 
 lios, " sinne" and "sin") ; I. 
 v. 96. 
 
 First house, " first rank among 
 duellists," or, " of the best 
 school of fencing " ; II. iv. 25. 
 
 Fits; " it fits," it is becoming ; 
 I. V. 76. 
 
 Flecked, spotted [Steevens' 
 reading (from Quarto i) ; 
 Quartos, " fleckeld " ; Folio 
 
 I, " Heckled "; Pope, " tieck- 
 e/d"; Capell, " tlecke/d"] ; 
 
 II. iii. 3. 
 
 Fleer, sneer ; I. v. 59. 
 
 Flirt-gills, flirting women (Gill 
 was a familiar name for a 
 woman) ; II. iv. 157. 
 
 Flowered, alluding probably to 
 the shoes pinked or punched 
 with holes; II. iv. 63. 
 
 Fond, foolish ; III. iii. 52. 
 
 Foolish, trifling; I. v. 123. 
 
 Forbear, abstain from ; III. i. 88. 
 
 Form, used with play upon 
 both senses of the word; II. 
 iv. 36. 
 
 Forsworn; "be f.," commit per- 
 jury; III. v. 197. 
 
 I 
 
 144
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Forth, from out of; I. i. ii8. 
 Fortune's fool, the sport of for- 
 tune; III. i. 138. 
 Frank, liberal; II. ii. 131. 
 Free-town, Villafranca ; I. i. 
 
 lOI. 
 
 Friend, lover; III. v. 43. 
 Frighted, frightened, terrified; 
 
 I. iv. 87. 
 From, away from, to avoid ; 
 
 III. i. 32. 
 
 Furnish, deck; IV. ii. 35. 
 
 Gear, matter ; II. iv. 103. 
 
 Ghostly, spiritual ; II. ii. 189. 
 
 Give leave, leave us ; a cour- 
 teous form of dismissal ; I. 
 iii. 7. 
 
 Give you, i.e. retort by calling 
 you; IV. V. 117. 
 
 Gleek, scoff {"give the g.," to 
 pass a jest upon a person) ; 
 
 IV. V. IIS. 
 
 Glooming, gloomy; V. iii. 305. 
 
 God-den, good evening ; I. ii. 57. 
 
 God gi' god-den, God give you 
 a good evening (Quartos, 
 Folios I, 2, 3, " Godgigo- 
 den " ; Capell, " God gi' go' 
 den"', Collier, "God gi' good 
 den " ; Staunton, " God ye 
 good den") ; I. ii. 58. 
 
 God save the mark, " originally 
 a phrase used to avert the 
 evil omen =: saving your rev- 
 erence, under your pardon ; 
 here * God have mercy ' " ; 
 III. ii. 53. 
 
 God ye good den, God give you 
 good evening; II. iv. 112. 
 
 God ye good morrow, God give 
 you good morning ; II. iv. iii. 
 
 Good goose, bite not, a pro- 
 verbial expression (found in 
 Ray's "Proverbs") ; II, iv. 
 80. 
 
 Goodman boy, a familiar appel- 
 lation ; I, V. 78. 
 
 Good pilgrim, I. v. 97. (C/>. 
 illustration.) 
 
 From a sketch by Iniffo Tones of the 
 Palmer's dress worn by Romeo in the 
 Masquerade Scene. 
 
 Gore; " gore blood " = clotted 
 
 blood; III. ii. 56. 
 Grace, virtue, potency; II. iii. 
 
 15. 
 Green earthen pots; V. i. 46. 
 
 145
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 (Cp. the annexed represen- 
 tation of an earthen money 
 pot of Shakespeare's time.) 
 Grievance, grief, sorrow ; I. i. 1 55- 
 Gyves, fetters; II. ii. i8o. 
 
 Hai, a home-thrust in fencing; 
 
 II. iv. 27. 
 Hall; " a hall, a hall," make 
 
 room ; I. v. 27. 
 Hap; "dear h.," good fortune; 
 
 II. ii. 190. 
 Harlotry, a term of contempt 
 
 for a silly wench ; IV. ii. 14. 
 Have at thee, be warned, take 
 
 care; 1. i. 71. 
 Havioiir, behaviour; II. ii. 99. 
 He, man; V. i. 67. 
 Healthsome, wholesome ; IV. 
 
 iii. 34. 
 Heartless, spiritless, cowardly ; 
 
 I. i. 65. 
 ' Heart's ease,' a popular tune 
 
 of the time; IV. v. loi. 
 
 (Cp. music below.) 
 
 High-lone, alone, without help 
 (Quarto 2, " hylone"; Quar- 
 to 3, "a lone"; other edi- 
 tions, "alone") ; I. iii. 36. 
 
 Highmost, highest ; II. v. 9. 
 
 Hilding, base wretch ; III. v. 169. 
 
 Hinds, serfs, menials; I. i. 65. 
 
 His, its ; II. vi. 12 ; V. iii. 203. 
 
 Hoar, hoary, mouldy; II. iv. 135. 
 
 Holidame, halidom, salvation 
 (used in swearing) ; I. iii. 43. 
 
 Holp, helped; I. ii. 48. 
 
 Homely, plain, simple; II. iii. 
 
 55. 
 
 Honey nurse, a. term of endear- 
 ment; II. V. 18. 
 
 Hood, cover with a hood (as 
 the hawk was hooded till let 
 fly at the game) ; III. ii. 14. 
 
 Humorous, moist, capricious 
 (used quibblingly) ; II. i. 31. 
 
 Humour, inclination, bent 
 (Quartos 4, 5, "humour"; 
 Quarto 2, '' humor " ; the rest 
 read "honor") ; I. i. 128. 
 
 ' Heaj'fs ease? 
 From Naylor's Shakespeare and Music. 
 
 Heaviness, sorrow; III. iv. 11. 
 Heavy, sad, troubled; I. i. 135- 
 Hie you, hasten ; II. v. 70. 
 
 Hunts-up, "the tune played to 
 wake and collect the hunt- 
 ers " ; III. V. 34. 
 
 146
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 I'll be a candle-holder, I'll be 
 an idle spectator (a prover- 
 bial phrase) ; I. iv. 38. 
 
 Ill-divining, misgiving; III. v. 
 
 54. 
 Impeach, accuse ; V. iii. 226. 
 In, into ; V. i. 8. 
 Inconstant, capricious, fickle ; 
 
 IV. i. 119. 
 
 Inherit, possess ; I. ii. 30. 
 
 Indite, (?) insist on inviting 
 (Quarto i, Folios 3, 4, "in- 
 vite'') ; II. iv. 131. 
 
 In happy time, a propos, pray 
 tell me; III. v. 112. 
 
 It, Its; I. iii. 52. 
 
 Jack, a. term of contempt for a 
 
 silly fellow; III. i. 12. 
 Jaunce, jaunt; II. v. 26. 
 Jealous, in any way suspicious; 
 
 V. iii. 33. 
 Jealous-hood, jealousy; IV. iv. 
 
 13- 
 
 Joint-stools, folding chairs ; I. 
 
 V. 7. 
 Joy, rejoice; II. ii. 116. 
 
 Keep, make; III. iv. 23. 
 Kindly, exactly, aptly ; II. iv. 58. 
 
 Label; a seal appended to a 
 deed; IV. i. 57. {Cp. the ac- 
 companying facsimile of a 
 XVth century deed preserved 
 at Stratford.) 
 
 * Lady, lady, lady,' a phrase 
 quoted from the old ballad of 
 Susanna ; II. iv. 147. 
 
 Lammas-eve, the day before 
 Lammas-tide, i.e. July 31st; I. 
 iii. 17. 
 
 Lammas-tide, the ist of Au- 
 gust; I. iii. 15. 
 
 Lantern, a turret full of win- 
 dows ; V. iii. 84. 
 
 Late, lately; III. i. 128. 
 
 Lay, wager, stake ; I. iii. 12. 
 
 Learn, teach ; III. ii. 12. 
 
 Learn d me, taught myself ; IV. 
 ii. 17. 
 
 Let, hinderance ; II. ii. 69. 
 
 Level, aim ; III. iii. 103. 
 
 Lieve, lief, gladly ; II. iv. 208. 
 
 Like, likely; IV. iii. 2>^. 
 
 Like of, like; I. iii. 96. 
 
 List, choose ; I. i. 40. 
 
 Logger-head, blockhead; IV. 
 iv. 20. 
 
 Long; " 1. to speak," long in 
 speaking, slow to speak; IV. 
 i. 66. 
 
 ' ihc label to another deed.'' 
 
 Long spinners' legs, long- 
 legged spiders ; I. iv. 59. 
 
 147
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Love, i.e. Venus; II. v. 7. 
 
 Mah, the queen of the fairies; 
 I. iv. 53. 
 
 Made, was doing ; V. iii. 280, 
 
 Mammet, puppet; III. v. 186. 
 
 Manage, course ; III. i. 145. 
 
 Manage, handle, use ; I. i. 68. 
 
 Mandrake, a plant, the root of 
 which was supposed to re- 
 semble the human figure, and 
 when torn from the earth to 
 cause madness and even 
 death ; IV. iii. 47. 
 
 The above illustration (from an illu- 
 minated MS. in the British Museumj 
 shows the method by which the man- 
 drake was supposed to be obtamed. 
 
 Marchpane, a kind of almond 
 paste ; I. v. 9. 
 
 Margcnt, margin; I. iii. 86. 
 
 Mark, elect; I. iii. 59. 
 
 Mark-man, marksman; I. i. 
 204. 
 
 Marriage (trisyllabic) ; IV. i. 
 II. 
 
 Married, harmonious (the read- 
 ing of Quarto 2 ; other edi- 
 tions, " seuerair ) ; I. iii. 83. 
 
 Maskers; I. iv. Direc. (Cp. 
 illustration.) 
 
 Mean, means, instrument ; III. 
 iii. 45. 
 
 Measure, a stately dance; I. iv. 
 10. 
 
 Medicine, medicinal; II. iii, 24. 
 
 Merchant, used contemptuous- 
 ly; II. iv. 148. 
 
 Mew'd up, shut up; III. iv. 11. 
 
 Mickle, great; II. iii. 15. 
 
 Minion, saucy person ; origi- 
 nally = a spoilt darling, a fa- 
 vourite ; III. V. 152. 
 
 Minstrel; "give you the m.," 
 i.e. call you a minstrel, glee- 
 man (with a play upon "to 
 give the gleek") ; IV. v. 116. 
 
 Minute, minutes ; V. iii. 257. 
 
 Misadventure, misfortune; V. 
 i. 29. 
 
 Mistemper'd, compounded and 
 hardened to an ill end ; I. i. 
 86. 
 
 Modern, commonplace, trite ; 
 III. ii. 120. 
 
 [From a representation of a French 
 Court-masque (/<fw/. Char lea VI.). 
 
 14S
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Moody, peevish, angry ; III. i. 
 
 14. 
 Morrow, morning ; II. ii. 186. 
 Mouse-hunt, a woman hunter; 
 
 IV. iv. II. 
 Moved, exasperated ; I. i. 7. 
 Much upon these years, about 
 
 the same age ; I. iii. 72. 
 MuMe, hide; V. iii. 21. 
 * My heart is full of woe,' a line 
 
 of a popular ballad of the 
 
 time; IV. v. 104. 
 
 Natural, idiot ; II. iv. 96. 
 
 Naught, bad; III. li. 87. 
 
 Needly will, of necessity must ; 
 III. ii. 117. 
 
 Needy, joyless (Quarto i, 
 "needful") ; III. v. 106. 
 
 Neighbour-stained, stained with 
 the blood of countrymen 
 [" neighbour-stained steel," 
 instead of "neighbour-stained 
 soil" (Daniel)]; I. i. 81. 
 
 New, just; I. i. 159. 
 
 , fresh, anew ; I. i. 103. 
 
 Nice, trifling; III. i. 156. 
 
 None ; " she will n.," i.e. she 
 will none of it, she will have 
 nothing to do with it ; III. v. 
 140. 
 
 Note, notice ; I. v. 72. 
 
 Noted, noticed, observed ; V. i. 
 38. 
 
 Nothing, not at all; I. i. in. 
 
 O, grief, lamentation ; III. iii. 90. 
 O', on [Quartos, Folio i, "a"; 
 
 Folios 2, 3, 4, "of"; (Quarto 
 
 i),"on"]', III. i. 92. 
 Odds; " at o.," at variance ; I. 
 
 ii. 5. 
 
 O'er-perch, leap over, fly over ; 
 
 II. ii. 66. 
 
 Old, accustomed, practised; 
 
 III. iii. 94. 
 
 On, of; I. iv. 72, yT„ 74. 
 Once, only; I. iii. 61. 
 Operation, effect ; III. i. 8. 
 Orchard, garden ; II. i. 5. 
 Osier cage, basket made of the 
 
 water willow ; II. iii. 7. 
 Outrage, outcry; V. iii. 216. 
 Overwhelming, over-hanging ; 
 
 V. i. 39. 
 Owes, owns ; II. ii. 46. 
 
 Paly, pale ; IV. i. 100. 
 
 Part, side; I. i, 113. 
 
 Partisan, a kind of halbert, or 
 pike ; I. i. 72. 
 
 Parts, natural gifts, endow- 
 ments ; III. iii. 2. 
 
 Passado, a thrust in fencing; 
 II. iv. 26 ; III. i. 84. 
 
 , a motion forwards and 
 
 thrust in fencing; II. iv. 27. 
 
 Passing, surpassingly ; I. i. 232. 
 
 Past compare, past comparison ; 
 II. V. 43. 
 
 Pastry, the room in which pies 
 were made ; IV. iv. 2. 
 
 Pay, give ; I. i. 236. 
 
 Peevish, silly, childish ; IV. ii. 
 14. 
 
 Perforce, compulsory; I. v. 90. 
 
 Perdona-mi's, people who are 
 continually saying pardon me 
 [Quartos 4, 5, " pardona- 
 mees"; Quarto i, " pardon- 
 mees " ; Quarto 2, " pardons 
 mees"; Theobald, " pardon- 
 nez 7noy's"] ; II. iv. 35. 
 
 Peruse, examine; V. iii. 74. 
 
 149
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Phaethon, the son of Helios, 
 the Sun god, who ambitious- 
 ly tried to drive the chariot 
 of his father; III. ii. 3. 
 
 Pilcher, scabbard (used con- 
 temptuously) ; III. i. 82. 
 
 Pin, the centre of the butt in 
 archery; II. iv. 15. 
 
 Plantain-leaf (supposed to be 
 efficacious in healing 
 wounds) ; I. ii. 52. 
 
 Plats, plaits, braids ; 1. iv. 89. 
 
 Plucks, pulls; II. ii. 181. 
 
 Poor John, a coarse kind of 
 fish, salted and dried; called 
 also hake ; 1. i. 31. 
 
 Poperin pear, a kind of pear ; 
 
 II. i. 38. 
 
 Portly, well-bred; I. v. 67. 
 
 Post; " in p.," in haste, post- 
 haste ; V. iii. 273. 
 
 Presence, presence - chamber, 
 state room; V. iii. 86. 
 
 Present, immediate, instant ; 
 IV. i. 61. 
 
 Pretty fool, a term of endear- 
 ment ; I. iii. 31. 
 
 Prevails, avails ; III, iii. 60. 
 
 Prick, point; II. iv. 119. 
 
 Prick-song, music sung from 
 notes ; II. iv. 21. 
 
 Prince of cats (used with ref- 
 erence to Tybalt, the name 
 of the cat in Reynard the 
 Fox) ; II. iv. 19. 
 
 Princox, pert boy, saucy boy ; 
 I. V. 87. 
 
 Procures, causes her to come ; 
 
 III. V. 68. 
 
 Prodigious, monstrous ; I. v. 
 
 141- 
 Proof, experience ; I. i. 176. 
 
 Pro/'^r^r^ handsomer ; II.iv.210. 
 Prorogue, delay ; IV. i. 48. 
 Prorogued, put off, delayed; 
 
 II. ii. 78. 
 Pump, low shoe ; II. iv. 62. 
 Punto reverso, a back-handed 
 
 stroke in fencing; II. iv. 27. 
 Purge, clear from suspicion; 
 
 V. iii. 226. 
 Purged, cleared from smoke 
 
 (Johnson conj., ''urg'd"\ 
 
 Collier MS., " puff'd"); I. i. 
 
 189. 
 
 Quit, reward ; II. iv. 197. 
 Quote, take note of [Quarto i, 
 
 " coate " ; Quarto 2, " cote "\ ; 
 
 I. iv. 31. 
 
 Rapier, a small sword used in 
 
 thrusting; I. v. 56. 
 Reason, speak, talk; III. i. 53. 
 Reckoning, estimation ; I. ii. 4. 
 Reeky, squalid, foul ; IV. i. 83. 
 Remedies; " both our r.," the 
 
 healing of both of us; II. 
 
 iii. 51. 
 Respective, regardful ; III. i. 
 
 125. 
 Rest you merry, i.e. God rest 
 
 you merry, God keep you 
 
 merry; a form of salutation 
 
 mostly used at parting; I. ii. 
 
 64. 
 Retorts, throws back; III. i. 
 
 166. 
 Ropery, roguery, tricks [Folio 
 
 4, "Roguery" ', (Quarto i), 
 
 '' rope-ripe "] ; II. iv. 149. 
 Rosemary, a herb used at 
 
 bridals and burials: IV. v. 
 
 79. 
 
 ISO
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Rote; " did read by rote and 
 could not spell," " consisted 
 of phrases learned by heart, 
 but knew nothing of the true 
 characters of Love" 
 (Schmidt) ; II. iii. 88. 
 Runagate, vagabond; III. v. 90, 
 Runaway's {v. Note) ; III. ii. 
 
 Rush'd; " r. aside the law," 
 with partial eagerness eluded 
 the law (Capell conj. and 
 Long MS., " piish'd" ; Collier 
 MS., "brushd"); III. iii. 26. 
 
 Rushes, the covering of the 
 floors ; L iv. 36. 
 
 Sack, destroy; III. iii. 107. 
 Sadly, seriously ; I. i. 199. 
 Sadness, seriousness ; I. i. 197, 
 
 200. 
 Scant, scarcely; I. ii. 104. 
 Scathe, harm ; I. v. 85. 
 Set abroach, incited, caused ; I. 
 
 i. 103. 
 Set up my rest, make up my 
 
 mind, remain ; a phrase 
 
 taken from gaming; V. iii. 
 
 no. 
 Shield; "God s.," God forbid; 
 
 IV. i. 41. 
 Shift, change ; I. v. 2. 
 Shrift, confession and conse- 
 quent absolution; IV. ii. 15. 
 Shrived, given absolution ; II. 
 
 iv. 184. 
 Simpleness, folly (Quarto i, 
 
 "wilfulness") ; III. iii. 77. 
 Simples, medicinal herbs ; V. i. 
 
 40. 
 Single-soled, contemptible ; II. 
 
 iv. 69. 
 
 Sirrah, a term of address to an 
 inferior ; IV. li. 2. 
 
 Sir-reverence, a contraction of 
 save reverence (salvd rever- 
 entid) ; used apologetically, 
 when referring to something 
 improper ; I. iv. 42. 
 
 Skains-mates (?) scapegraces 
 {v. Note) ; II. iv. 156. 
 
 Slip, used with a play upon 
 slip = a counterfeit coin ; II. 
 iv. 51- 
 
 Slop, large loose breeches ; II. 
 iv. 47. 
 
 Sober-suited, quietly clad; III. 
 ii. II. 
 
 So ho! a sporting term; II. iv. 
 136. 
 
 Solemnity, celebration of nup- 
 tials; IV. V. 61. 
 
 Some other where = some- 
 where else, elsewhere ; I. i. 
 196. 
 
 Sometime, sometimes ; I. iv. 79. 
 
 Soon-speeding, quickly acting, 
 quickly despatching; V. i. 
 60. 
 
 Sort, choose, select ; IV. ii. 34. 
 
 Sorted out, found out, discov- 
 ered; III. V. no. 
 
 Spanish blades, Spanish 
 swords ; Toledo, in Spain, 
 was famous for the temper 
 of its swords ; I. iv. 84. 
 
 Sped, despatched, undone; III. 
 i. 92, 
 
 Spite, vexation; II. i. 27. 
 
 ; "in s. of me," in de- 
 fiance, to my mortification ; I. 
 i. 78. 
 
 Spleen, heat, impetuosity; III. 
 i. 159. 
 
 151
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 spoke him fair, spoke to him 
 with gentle words ; III. i. 155, 
 
 Starvcth, " looks out hun- 
 grily " ; V. i. 70. 
 
 State ; " here stands all your 
 s.," the whole of your fortune 
 depends on this ; III. iii. 166. 
 
 Stay, detain; V. iii. 187. 
 
 , linger ; III. iii. 148. 
 
 , wait for ; II. v. 36. 
 
 Stay'd, delayed; V. iii. 251. 
 
 Steads, helps ; II. iii. 54. 
 
 Still, always ; I. i. 169. 
 
 Stint, cease; I. iii. 58. 
 
 Stoccata, a thrust in fencing 
 {"Alia stoccata," Knight's 
 emendation of Quartos, Fo- 
 lio I, "Alia stucatho"; Folios 
 
 2, 3, 4, "Allastucatho" ; Theo- 
 bald, Capell, " a la stoc- 
 cata") ; III. i. 75. 
 
 Straight, straightway ; I. iii. 104. 
 Strain d, forced ; II. iii. 19. 
 Strains, constrains, wrenches 
 
 (Folio I, " streamcs") ; IV. 
 
 i. 47. 
 Strange, reserved, distant ; II. 
 
 ii. loi, 102. 
 , retiring, unfamiliar ; III. 
 
 ii. 15- 
 Stratagems, amazing deeds ; 
 
 III. V. 211. 
 Strucken, struck ; I. i. 230. 
 Substantial (quadrisyllable) ; 
 
 II. ii. 141. 
 Surcease, cease to beat ; IV. i. 
 
 97. 
 Swashing, dashing (Quartos 2. 
 
 3, Folios, "washing") ; I. i. 
 62. 
 
 Sweeting, a kind of sweet ap- 
 ple; II. iv. 83. 
 
 Sweet water, perfumed wa- 
 ters ; V. iii. 14. 
 
 Swounded, swooned ; III. ii. 
 56. 
 
 Tackled stair, rope ladder ; II. 
 iv. 194. 
 
 Take me with you, let me un- 
 derstand aright ; III. v. 142. 
 
 Take the wall, get the better of 
 (used quibblingly) ; I. i. 11. 
 ■ Tassel-gentle, male hawk; II. 
 ii. 160. (C/J. illustration.) 
 
 From Geome Turberville's Book of 
 
 Falco}irye, 1575. 
 
 Teen, sorrow (Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 
 " teeth ") ; I. iii. 13. 
 Temper, mix ; III. v. 98. 
 Tender, bid, offer ; III. iv. 12. 
 
 , hold, regard; III. i. 72. 
 
 Tetchy, fretful, peevish; I. iii. 
 
 32. 
 Thee, thyself; V. iii. 3. 
 Therewithal, with it ; V. iii. 289. 
 
 152
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Thorough, through; 11. iv. 15. 
 
 Thought, hoped; IV. v. 41. 
 
 Thou's, thou shalt; I. iii. 9- 
 
 Timeless, untimely ; V. iii. 162. 
 
 Titan, the sun-god; II. iii. 4- 
 
 To, as to; II. iii. 92. 
 
 To-night, last night; I. iv. 50; 
 II. iv. 2. 
 
 Torch-hearers; I. iv. Direc. 
 {Cp. the subjoined illustra- 
 tion.) 
 
 From 'La trjoimphante . . • entree 
 f aicte sur le . . . advenement de . • • 
 prince Charles des Hespaignes [i.e. 
 Emperor Charles V. ) ... en sa ville 
 de Bruges' (1515)- 
 
 Towards, at hand ; I. v. 123. 
 
 Toy, folly, idle fancy; IV. i. 
 119. 
 
 Trencher, plate; I. v. 2. 
 
 Tried, proved; IV. iii. 29. 
 
 Truckle-bed, a bed running on 
 wheels, to be pushed under 
 another, called a standing- 
 bed; II. i. 39- 
 
 Turn thee, turn thyself round, 
 turn ; I. i. 66. 
 
 Tutor, teach; III. i. 32. 
 
 Unattainted, sound, impartial; 
 I. ii. 87. 
 
 Unbruised, unhurt ; II. iii. 37- 
 
 Uncomfortable, cheerless, joy- 
 less ; IV. V. 60. 
 
 Unfurnish'd, unprovided; IV. 
 ii. 10. 
 
 Unmann'd, untrained (a term 
 of falconry) ; III. ii. I4- 
 
 Unstuif'd, not overcharged; II. 
 iii. 37- 
 
 Utters them, causes them to 
 pass from one to another ; V. 
 i. 67. 
 
 Validity, value ; III. iii. 33- 
 
 Vanish' d, issued; III. iii. 10. 
 
 Vanity, trivial pursuit, vain de- 
 light; II. vi. 20. 
 
 Verona streets, the streets of 
 Verona; III. i. 90- 
 
 Versal, universal ; II. iv. 212. 
 
 View, outward appearance; I. 
 i. 167. 
 
 , sight; I. i. 169. 
 
 Visor, mask; I. v. 24. 
 
 Ware, aware; I. i. 123. 
 
 Wax; " a man of w.," as pretty 
 
 Standing' and truckle-bed. 
 
 From an illuminated MS. of XV. cent. 
 
 (The figures represent a nobleman 
 
 and his valet.) 
 
 ^S3
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 as if he had been modelled 
 
 in wax; I. iii. 76. 
 Waxes, grows; I. v. 127. 
 Weeds, garments; V. i. 39. 
 Well said, well done ; L v. 87. 
 What, who; I. v. 113. 
 , " what dares," how dare ; 
 
 L V. 56. 
 Who, which; L i. iii; 1. v. 
 
 100. 
 
 , he who ; I. i. 129. 
 
 Wit, wisdom; I. iv. 49. 
 
 , " sentiments " ; I. i. 207. 
 
 With, by; I. iv. 57. 
 
 , through ; V. iii, 50. 
 
 Withal, with, by it; I. i. iii. 
 Without, outside of; III. iii. 
 
 17. 
 Wot, know; III. ii. 139. 
 Writ, written ; I. iii. 82. 
 Wrought, brought about; III. 
 
 V. 145- 
 
 Yet not, not yet ; II. ii. 58. 
 
 Yond, yonder; I. v. 129. 
 
 'Zounds, a contraction of 
 " God's wounds " ; an oath 
 (Folios "Come"); III. i. 51, 
 
 Dragging- 07i a hurdle {See III. v. 166.) 
 From a XV th century MS. 
 
 154
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ, 
 
 Prologue omitted in Folios. 
 
 I. i, 22. ' cruel ' ; so Quartos 4, 5 ; Quartos 2, 3, Folios read 
 ' ciuil' and ' civil! 
 
 I. i. 100. ' farther'; so Quartos 2, 4; Quarto 5, 'further'; 
 Quarto 3, Folios i, 2, 3, 'Fathers' ; Folio 4, 'Father's.' 
 
 I. i. 119. ' drave me to walk abroad'; Pope (from Quarto i), 
 "drew me from company' ; Theobald, ' drew me to zvalk abroad.' 
 
 I. i. 126. 'Which then most sought where most might not be 
 found'; Pope (from Quarto i), 'That most are busied, when 
 they're most alone'; Keightley, 'Which there . . . ,' etc.; 
 Herr conj. 'Which then most sought where many . . .' ; Allen 
 conj. 'which then most sought where more . . .' 
 
 I. i. 151. 'sun'; Theobald's emendation of Quartos and Folios, 
 ' same.' 
 
 I. i. 170. 'see pathways to his will'; Staunton conj. 'set path- 
 ways to our will ' ; Hanmer, ' . . . ill.' 
 
 I. i. 183. 'Why such is'; Seymour conj. 'Why such is, merely'; 
 Collier MS., 'Why such, Benvolio, is'; Mommsen conj. 'Why, 
 such, Benvolio, such is'; Keightley, 'Why, gentle cousin, such 
 is'; Orger conj. 'Why, such a love is.' 
 
 I. i. 188. 'raised'; Pope's correction (from Quarto i) ; Quar- 
 tos, Folios, ' made.' 
 
 I. i. 200. 'Bid a sick man in sadness make'; so (Quarto i), 
 Quartos 4, 5 ; Quartos 2, 3, Folio i read 'A sicke man in sadnesse 
 makes'; Folios 2, 3, 4, 'A sicke man in good sadnesse makes.' 
 
 I. i. 209. 'From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd' ; 
 Grant White conj. """Gam.?^ . . . ^Hc/iari/i'c/ ""; Quartos, Folios, 
 ' vncharmd ' ; Collier MS., ' encharm'd.' 
 
 I. i. 214. ' with beauty dies her store ' ; Theobald reads ' with 
 her dies Beauty's Store'; Keightley, 'with her dies beauty store.' 
 
 I. ii. 15. 'She is the hopeful lady of my earth'; Johnson conj. 
 ' She is the hope and stay of my full years.' 
 
 155
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 I. ii. 25. 'make dark heaven light'; Theobald reads 'make 
 dark heaven's light'; Warburton, 'make dark even light'; Jack- 
 son conj. 'mask dark heaven's light'; Daniel conj. 'mock dark 
 heaven's light.' 
 
 I. ii. 26. 'young men'; Johnson conj. 'yeomen.' 
 
 I. ii. 32. 'Which on more view' etc. ; so Quartos 4, 5 ; Quartos 
 2, 3, Folios, 'one' for 'on'; Quarto i, 'Such, amongst view of 
 many myne being one ' ; perhaps we shoulld read with Mason, 
 'Whilst on more view of many, mine being one'; many readings 
 have been proposed. 
 
 I. iii. 2)2- 'Shake, quoth the dove-house,' referring to the ef- 
 fects of the earthquake; Daniel conj. 'goeth' for 'quoth.' 
 
 I. iii. 66, 67. 'honour'; Pope's emendation (from Quarto i) ; 
 Quartos, Folios, 'hours' and 'hour.' 
 
 I. iv. 39. 'The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done'; "an 
 allusion to an old proverbial saying which advises to give over 
 when the game is at the fairest" (Ritson). 
 
 I. iv. 41. Cp. Chaucer's Manciple's Prologue: — 
 
 Ther gan our hoste for to jape and pleye, 
 And seyde, sirs, what! 
 
 Dun is in the myre! 
 
 A proverbial expression originally used in an old rural sport, 
 and meaning, " we are all at a standstill ! " or, " let us make an 
 effort to move on" (vide Prof. Skeat's Notes to Canterbury 
 Tales, Vol. v. p. 435-6). 
 
 I. iv. 42. ' Of this sir-reverence love ' ; Singer's emendation 
 from (Quarto i) ; Quartos read 'Or saue you reuerence hue'] 
 Folios I, 2, 3, 'Or saue your reuerence loue.' 
 
 I. iv. 45. Capell's emendation; (Quarto i) reads 'We burne 
 our lights by night, like Lampes by day'; Quartos, 'We waste 
 our lights in vaine, lights lights by day'; Folios, 'We wast our 
 lights in vaine, lights, lights, by day.' 
 
 I. iv. 66. 'Maid'; Pope's reading (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, 
 Folio I, 'man'; Folios 2, 3, 4, 'woman'; Ulrici (from Collier 
 MS.), 'milk-maid.' 
 
 I. iv. 77 . 'Courtier's' ; Pope (from Quarto .1) reads 'law- 
 yer's'; Theobald conj. ' taylor's.' 
 
 I. iv. 85. 'Of healths'; Thirlby conj. 'Of delves'; Keightley 
 conj. ' Trenches'; Clark MS. 'Of hilts.' 
 
 I. iv. gi. ' Untangled' ; 'which once u.,' the untangling of 
 which. 
 
 156 
 
 I
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 I. iv, 103. 'Face'', Pope's reading (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, 
 Folios, ' side ' ; Collier MS., ' tide.' 
 
 I. V. 18. 'Will have a bout'; (Quarto i), '-will haue about'; 
 Quartos, Folios, ' will zvalke about ' ; Pope, ' we'll have a bout ' ; 
 l3aniel, ' will walke a bout.' 
 
 I. V. 46. 'It seems she'', so (Quarto i) Quartos, Folio i; 
 Folios 2, 3, 4, read 'Her beauty'', Bulloch conj. 'In streams she'; 
 etc. 
 
 II. i. 10. 'pronounce' ; Quartos 2, 3, ' prouaunt' ; Folio i, 
 'Prouant' ', Folios 2, 3, 4, 'Couply'; Rowe, 'couple.' 
 
 II. 1. 13. 'trim,' Steevens (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, Folios, 
 ' true.' 
 
 II. i. 13. 'Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim'; all the 
 early editions read 'Abraham Cupid'; Theobald conjectured ' au- 
 born'; Upton, 'Adam,' referring to Adam Bell, the famous archer. 
 It must be borne in mind, however, that 'Abram,' 'Abraham,' was 
 a regular corrupt form of auburn, formerly often written abern, 
 abron. 
 
 II. ii. 41-42. ' nor any other part Belonging to a man. O be 
 some other name!' Malone's emendation; Pope (from Quarto 
 i) reads 'nor any other part' ; Quartos, Folios, ' O be some other 
 name Belonging to a man.' 
 
 II. ii. 44. 'name'; so Pope (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, Folios, 
 ' word.' 
 
 II. ii. 61. 'fair maid, if either thee dislike' ; so Quartos, Folios; 
 Pope (from Quarto i) reads 'fair saint . . . displease'; 
 Theobald, 'fair saint . . . dislike'; Grant White, 'fair maid 
 . . . displease'; Anon, conj., 'fair maid . . . mislike.' 
 
 II. ii. 107. 'blessed moon I swear'; so (Quarto i) Quartos; 
 Folios read ' moon I vow.' 
 
 II. ii. 153. 'suit'; so Quarto 5; Quarto 4, ' sute'; Quartos 2, 
 3, Folios, 'strife.' 
 
 II. ii. 189. 'father's cell'; Capell's reading (from Quarto i) ; 
 Quartos, Folios 3, 4, 'Friers close cell ' ; Folios i, 2, 'Fries close 
 cell' 
 
 II. iii. 1-4. Omitted in Folios 2, 3, 4. 
 
 II. iii. 4. 'day's path and Titan's fiery wheels'; Malone's read- 
 ing (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, Folio i, 'day's path, and Titan's 
 burning wheels'; Pope, 'day's pathzvay, made by Titan's wheels.' 
 
 II. iii. 23. 'small,' so Pope (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, Folios, 
 ^ weake.' 
 
 II. iv. 157. ' I am none of his skains-mates ' ; ' skains-mates ' oc- 
 
 157
 
 Notes 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 curs nowhere else, its origin is uncertain ; it is perhaps con- 
 nected with skain, skein, ' as if associated in winding yarns ' (or 
 skain's = gen. of skain, skean = dagger ; 'as if a brother in 
 arms '). 
 
 II. vi. 34. ' sum up sum of half my ' ; so Quartos 2, 3 ; Quartos 
 4, 5, ' summe up some of halfe my'; Folios, 'sum up some of 
 halfe my/ etc. 
 
 III. i. 115. 'kinsman/ Capell's reading (from Quarto i) ; 
 Quarto 5, other texts, ' cousin.' 
 
 III. i. 168. 'agile'; Quarto i, Quartos 4, 5, ' agill' ; Quartos 2, 
 3, Folio I, ' aged ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' able.' 
 
 III. i. 190. 'hate's'; Knight's emendation; Quartos, Folios, 
 read ' hearts ' ; Hanmer, ' heats' ' ; Johnson, ' hearts'/ 
 
 III. ii. 6. 'That runaways eyes may wink'; an epitome of the 
 various interpretations of these words fills no less than twenty- 
 eight pages of Furness' variorum edition ; the Quartos and Folios 
 do not mark the possessive, and scholars are divided on the sub- 
 ject of the singular or plural possessive. The Cambridge editors 
 evidently make '' n/Hatcay.?'' = runagates, night-prowlers. The 
 present editor cannot bring himself to believe that Shakespeare 
 intended this reading, and has substituted ' Runazvay's ' in the 
 sense of ' Day's ' ; ' Runaway ' may have belonged to the playful 
 phraseology of Elizabethan girls, 
 and savours of the expressive lan- 
 guage of children's rhymes. 
 
 Ill, ii. 66. 'dear-loved' ; Pope's 
 reading (from Quarto i) ; Quar- 
 tos, Folios, read ' dearest.' 
 
 III. ii. 76. ' Dove-feather' d ra- 
 ven ' ; Theobald's emendation of 
 Quartos 2, 3, Folio i, ' Rauenous 
 douefeatherd Rauen ; Quartos 4, 
 5, Folios 2, 3, 4, 'Rauenous done, 
 feathred Rauen.' 
 
 III. ii. 79. 'damned saint'; so 
 Quartos 4, 5, Folios 2, 3, 4 ; Quar- 
 tos 2, 3, ' dimme saint'; Folio i, 
 * dimne saint/ 
 
 III. iii. 52. 'Thou fond mad man, 
 hear me hut speak a zuord' ; Malone's emendation (from Quarto 
 i) ; Quartos 2, 3. ' Then fond mad man, heare me a little speake'; 
 Quartos 4, 5, 'Thou fond mad man, heare me a little speake'} 
 
 158
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 Folio I, ' Then fond mad man, heare me speake ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 ' Fond mad man, heare me speake.' 
 
 III. iii. 132, 'Like powder in a skill'ess soldier's flask.' (Cp. the 
 flask in the cut [page 158] which is reproduced from The Exer- 
 cise of Armes, 16 19.) 
 
 III. V. 31. According to Warburton there is a popular saying 
 to this effect, due to the fact that the toad has very fine eyes and 
 the lark very ugly ones. 
 
 III. V. 55. 'below'; Pope's reading (from Quarto i) ; Quartos, 
 Folios, ' so lowe.' 
 
 III. V. 152. Omitted in Folios. 
 
 III. V. 166. 'lent'; Pope (from Quarto i) reads 'sent'; Cow- 
 den Clarke conj. 'left.' 
 
 III. V. 177-179. So Quarto 2 and the other Quartos; Quarto i 
 reads : — 
 
 "" Goas blessed mother wife it mads me, 
 Day, night, early, late, at home, abroad, 
 Alone, in company, waking or sleeping. 
 Still my care hath been to see her matcht." 
 
 Many attempts have been made to smooth the lines, but perhaps 
 they express Capulet's excitement. 
 
 III. V. 182. 'train'd'; Capell's reading (from Quarto i) ; 
 Quartos 3. 4, 5, Folios, ' allied ' ; Quarto 2, ' Hand ' ; etc. 
 
 IV. i. 3. 'nothing slow to slack his haste'; Collier conj. 'some- 
 thing slow' etc. ; Quarto i, ' nothing slack to slow his haste ' ; 
 Johnson conj. 'nothing slozv to back his haste.' 
 
 IV. i. 16. Omitted in Quartos, Folios. 
 
 IV. i. 45. 'cure,' so (Quarto i) Quarto 5; Quartos 2, 3, 4,; 
 Folios, ' care.' 
 
 IV. i. 115-116. 'and he and I Will watch thy waking'; the 
 reading of Quartos 3, 4, 5 ; omitted in Folios. 
 
 IV. V. 106-107. ' O play me some merry dump, to comfort me'; 
 the reading of Quartos ; omitted in Folios. 
 
 IV. V. 125-127. These lines are from Richard Edwards' Para- 
 dise of Dainty Devices, 1576, 
 
 V. i. I. ' flattering truth ' ; so Quartos, Folios ; Malone follow- 
 ing (Quarto i) reads 'flattering eye'; Collier MS., "flattering 
 death'; Grant White, 'flattering sooth'; etc. 
 
 V. i. 24. '/ defy you'; Pope reading (Quarto i), ' I defle my'; 
 Quartos 2, 3, 4, Folio i, 'I denie you'; Folios 2, 3, 4, Quarto 5, 'I 
 deny you.' 
 
 159
 
 Notes 
 
 THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 V. i. 27. '/ do beseech you, sir, have patience'', Pope (from 
 Quarto i) reads 'Pardon me sir, I dare not leave you thus'; 
 Steevens (1793) reads 'Pardon me, 
 
 -^ . . ^1 sir, I will not leave you thus.' 
 
 irT^^ ^ !^ ^^^ ^- ^- '^■4- ' ^^^ ^""^ needy shop a 
 
 >5^xS<^Sii w i.iMn»rNN\ tortoise hung. An alligator stuif'd 
 
 and other skins of ill-shaped fishes.' 
 (Cp. illustration from a picture by 
 Teniers.) 
 
 V. iii. 122. ' Stumbled at graves,' 
 etc. : — 
 
 "For many men that stumble at the 
 threshold 
 Are well foretold that danger lurks 
 within; " 
 3 Henry VI., IV. vii. 11, 12. 
 
 V. iii. 169. 'rust'; so Quartos, Folios; Hazlitt (from Quarto 
 i) reads ' rest.' 
 
 V. iii. 205. ' it,' i.e. the dagger ; so Quarto 2 ; the rest read 'is.' 
 
 'mis-sheathed' ; the reading of Folio 4; Folios i, 2, 3, 
 
 Quarto 5, ' misheathcd' ; Quarto 2, ' missheathd' ; Quartos 3, 4, 
 ' missheath'd ' ; Jackson conj. ' mi-sheath' d.' 
 
 V. iii. 211. After this line Quarto i reads 'and young Benvolio 
 is deceased too.' 
 
 160
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially selected and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dowden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 PROLOGUE. 
 
 Why the Prologue was not included in the Folios, White finds 
 it difficult to conjecture, as all the Quartos have it. In the Quarto 
 of 1597 it appears with two lines less and many variations, as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Two household Frends, alike in dignitie, 
 
 (In faire Verona, where we lay our Scene,) 
 From ciuill broyles broke into enmitie, 
 
 Whose civill warre makes civill hands vncleane. 
 From forth the fatall loynes of these two foes 
 
 A paire of starre-crost Lovers tooke their life; 
 Whose misaduentures, piteous ouerthrowes, 
 
 (Through the continuing of their Fathers strife, 
 And death-markt passage of their Parents' rage,) 
 
 Is now the two howres traffique of our Stage. 
 The which if you with patient ears attend, 
 
 What here we want, wee'l studie to amend." 
 
 2. Brooke's poem opens with a description of Verona : — 
 
 " There is beyonde the Alps, a towne of auncient fame 
 Whose bright renoune yet shineth cleare, Verona men it name : 
 Bylt in an happy time, bylt on a fertile soyle : 
 Maynteined by the heauenly fates, and by the townish toyle. 
 The fruitefull hilles aboue, the pleasant vales belowe, 
 The siluer streame with chanell depe. that through the towne 
 doth flow," etc. 
 
 5, 6. This Prologue is written in the form of the Shakespearian 
 sonnet. The note of fate is struck in these two lines. 
 
 161
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 " Shakespeare," says Corson, " is always especially happy in the 
 opening scenes of his plays. They generally strike the keynote 
 of the whole dramatic action. Romeo and Juliet is no exception 
 to this. Furthermore, the opening scene is, of itself, a sufficient 
 refutation of much of the commentary on the play, which ascribes 
 the misadventured piteous overthrows of the two lovers, to sub- 
 jective causes." 
 
 S2. two of the house of Montagues: — The partisans of the Mon- 
 tague family wore a token in their hats in order to distinguish 
 them from their enemies the Capulets. Hence throughout this 
 play they are known at a distance. 
 
 41. bite my thumb : — This kind of insult for beginning a quarrel 
 was common. Dekker, in his Dead Term, 1608, describing the 
 various groups that daily frequented St. Paul's, says, " What 
 swearing is there, what shouldering, what justling, what jeering, 
 what byting of thumbs to beget quarrels ! " 
 
 57, 58. one of my master's kinsmen : — Gregory is supposed to 
 mean Tybalt, whom he sees coming in another direction from 
 that whence Benvolio approaches. Upon the foregoing part of 
 this scene Coleridge has the following : " With his accustomed 
 judgement, Shakespeare has begun by placing before us a lively 
 picture of all the impulses of the play ; and, as nature ever presents 
 two sides, one for Heraclitus, and one for Democritus, he has, by 
 way of prelude, shown the laughable absurdity of the evil by the 
 contagion of it reaching the servants, who have so little to do with 
 it, but who are under the necessity of letting the superfluity of 
 sensorial power fly off through the escape-valve of wit-combats, 
 and of quarrelling wath weapons of sharper edge, all in humble 
 imitation of their masters. Yet there is a sort of unhired fidelity, 
 an ourishness about all this, that makes it rest pleasant on one's 
 feelings. All the first Scene, down to the conclusion of the 
 Prince's speech, is a motley dance of all ranks and ages to one 
 tune, as if the horn of Huon had been playing behind the scenes." 
 
 72. Clubs: — The old custom of crying out, clubs, clubs, in case 
 of any tumult occurring in the streets of London, has been made 
 familiar by Scott in The Fortunes of Nigel This transferring of 
 London customs to an Italian city is justified by Knight: "The 
 
 162
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 cry of clubs by the citizens of Verona expressed an idea of popular 
 movement, which could not have been conveyed half so emphatic- 
 ally in a foreign phrase." 
 
 74. long sword : — This was the weapon used in active warfare ; 
 a lighter and shorter one being w:)rn for ornament. 
 
 loi. Free-town is given in Brooke's poem as the name of a 
 castle belonging to Capulet. 
 
 152. the sun : — Malone, who prints the same in his text, as " a 
 mode of expression not uncommon in Shakespeare's time," sup- 
 ports the sun by a parallel from Daniel's sonnets : — 
 
 " And whilst thou spread'st unto the rising sunne 
 The fairest Hozver that ever saw the light, 
 Now joy thy time, before thy sweet be done," 
 
 170 et seq. This string of antithetical conceits seems absurd 
 enough to us ; but such was the most approved way of describing 
 love in Shakespeare's time, as for some ages before. Petrarch 
 and Chaucer used it, and divers old English poets and ballad- 
 makers abound in it. Such an affected way of speaking shows the 
 state of Romeo's mind, that his love is rather self-generated than 
 inspired by any object. 
 
 172. dine : — A lover, of course, could not seriously think of his 
 dinner. Romeo wishes to turn aside Benvolio's inquiries. 
 
 174. Here 's much, etc. : — " Romeo," says Clarke, " is speaking 
 in the riddling mood now upon him. He means that the fray has 
 much to do with the hate between the rival houses, yet affects him 
 more, inasmuch as his Rosaline is of the Capulet family ; that what 
 has just passed has had reference to the animosity which divides 
 the two factions, and has also shown him the anxious affection 
 felt on his account by his father and Benvolio. To the latter he 
 refers where he says, ' This love that thou hast shown,' etc." 
 
 209. And in strong proof, etc. : — Steevens here observes : " As 
 this play was written in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, I cannot 
 help regarding these speeches of Romeo as an oblique compliment 
 toher majesty, who was not liable to be displeased at hearing her 
 chastity praised after she was suspected to have lost it, or her 
 beauty commended in the 67th year of her age, though she never 
 possessed any when she was young." 
 
 215. her store: — Dowden says, "I think her store means beauty's 
 store. Rosaline is the possessor of beauty and also of beauty's 
 
 163
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 store, that is, the reserve of beauty (in posterity) or the propagat- 
 ing power of beauty. Compare Sonnets, XL, and especially the 
 lines : — 
 
 * Let those whom Nature hath not made for store, 
 Harsh, featureless and rude, barrenly perish.' 
 
 If Rosaline dies wedded, beauty indeed dies ; but if she dies single, 
 beauty dies and also beauty's store." 
 
 229. These happy masks : — This has been taken as an allusion to 
 the masks worn by the female spectators of the play; but we are 
 probably to suppose that these means no more than the, being used 
 indefinitely for designating the masks worn in those days. 
 
 236. thou canst not teach me to forget: — Coleridge says: " The 
 necessity of loving creates an object for itself in man and woman; 
 and yet there is a difference in this respect between the sexes, 
 though only to be known by a perception of it. It would have dis- 
 pleased us if Juliet had been represented as already in love, or as 
 fancying herself so : but no one, I believe, ever experiences any 
 shock at Romeo's forgetting his Rosaline, who had been a mere 
 name for the yearning of his youthful imagination, and rushing 
 into his passion for Juliet." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 52. plantain-leaf : — So referred to, as a salve for a broken shin, 
 in Love's Labour's Lost, III. i. 75. Romeo would turn aside Ben- 
 volio's talk of remedies for love with a jest on the popular remedy 
 for an ailment less hard to cure than a broken heart ; let us discuss 
 broken shins, not deeper wounds. 
 
 92. who, often drown d : — This is an allusion to the old belief 
 that water would not strangle a witch, who, if thrown into it, 
 would not sink. So in King James's Dcemonology : " It appeares 
 that God hath appointed for a supernatural signe of the monstrous 
 impietie of witches, that the water shall refuse to receive them in 
 her bosom that have shaken off them the sacred water of baptism, 
 and wilfully refused the benefit thereof." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 The greater part of this Scene is printed as prose in all the old ' 
 copies. Capell first saw that it was verse. 
 
 164
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 4. God forbid! — "An exquisite touch of nature," says Staunton. 
 " The old Nurse, in her fond garrulity, uses lady-bird as a term of 
 endearment : but recollecting its application to a female of loose 
 manners, checks herself — God forbid her darling should prove 
 such a one ! " 
 
 24. 'Tis since the earthquake, etc. : — Upon this Tyrwhitt re- 
 marks, " There is no such circumstance, I believe, mentioned in 
 any of the novels from which Shakespeare may be supposed to 
 have drawn his story; and therefore it seems probable that he 
 had in view the earthquake which had really been felt in many 
 parts of England in his own time, viz., on the 6th of April, 1580." 
 Upon mature reflection Malone saw that this conjecture is sup- 
 ported by Shakespeare's " frequent allusions to the manners and 
 usages of England, and to the events of his own time, which he 
 has described as taking place wherever his scene happens to lie." 
 
 y2. these years'. — Juliet being fourteen, Lady Capulet is "much 
 upon " twenty-eight. Staunton observes that her husband, old 
 Capulet, having done masking some thirty years (I. v. 34), must 
 be at least threescore. Knight changes your mother to a mother. 
 
 y6. a man of zvax : — A man for beauty like a model in wax ; see 
 III. iii. 126. Steevens quotes from Wily Beguiled : " A man as 
 one should picture him in wax " ; White, from Euphues and his 
 England : " So exquisite that for shape he must be framed in 
 wax." Dyce, from Fair Em : — 
 
 " A body, were it framed of wax 
 By all the cunning artists of the world. 
 It could not better be proportioned." 
 
 Field, in A Woman is a Weathercock, has " By Jove, it is a little 
 man of wax." 
 
 79-94. What say youf — This bravura speech of ingenious con- 
 ceits is supposed by Ulrici to have a deep dramatic design — to ex- 
 hibit Lady Capulet as an artificial woman of the world in her 
 euphuistic speech. In Dowden's opinion it probably means no 
 more than that the writer was immature and liked such conceits. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 1-3. In Henry VIIL, where the King introduces himself at the 
 entertainment given by Wolsey, he appears, like Romeo and his 
 companions, in a mask, and sends a messenger before with an 
 
 165
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 apology for his intrusion. This was a custom observed by those 
 who came uninvited, with a desire to conceal themselves, for the 
 sake of intrigue, or to enjoy the greater freedom of conversation. 
 Their entry on these occasions was always prefaced by some 
 speech in praise of the beauty of the ladies, or the generosity of 
 the entertainer; and to the prolixity of such introductions it is 
 probable Romeo is made to allude. Of the same kind of mas- 
 querading see a specimen in Timon of Athens, I. ii., where Cupid 
 precedes a troop of ladies with a speech. 
 
 5. Tartar's painted how : — The Tartarian bows resemble in their 
 form the old Roman or Cupid's bow, such as we see on medals 
 and bas-reliefs. Shakespeare uses the epithet to distinguish it 
 from the English bow, whose shape is the segment of a circle. 
 
 53. Queen Mab : — Thom states that no earlier mention of Mab 
 than the above is known; that no doubt Shakespeare got the name 
 from folk-lore of his own time; that Mab in Welsh means an 
 infant; and that Beaufort, in his Ancient Topography of Ireland, 
 mentions Mabh as the chief of the Irish fairies. Drayton, with 
 Shakespeare's description before him, writes, in his happiest man- 
 ner, of Queen Mab in Nymphidia the Court of Fayrie. Attempts 
 have been made to identify Queen Mab with Dame Abunde or 
 Habunde; and again with the Irish Queen Maeve. Sir H. Ellis 
 says that in Warwickshire " Mab-led " (pronounced Mob-led) 
 signifies led astray by a will-o'-the-wisp. 
 
 54. the fairies' midzvife : — " Not midwife to the fairies," says 
 Steevens, " but the fairy whose department it was to deliver the 
 fancies of sleeping men of their dreams, those ' children of an idle 
 brain.' " Hudson follows this interpretation. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 42. What lady 's that, etc. : — Thus in Brooke's poem : — 
 " At length he saw a mayd, right fayre of perfect shape : 
 Which Theseus, or Paris would haue chosen to their rape. 
 Whom erst he neuer sawe, of all she pleasde him most: 
 Within himselfe he sayd to her. thou iustly mayst thee boste, 
 Of perfit shapes renoune. and Beauties sounding prayse: 
 Whose like ne hath, ne shalbe scene, ne liueth in our dayes. 
 And whilest he fixd on her his partiall perced eye, 
 His former loue, for which of late he ready was to dye. 
 Is nowe as quite forgotte, as it had neuer been." 
 
 166
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 io8. [Kissing her.] The kissing of a lady at a social gathering 
 seems not to have been thought indecorous. So in Henry VIII. 
 we have Lord Sands kissing Anne Bullen, at the supper given by 
 Wolsey. White remarks on this bit of dialogue: "I have never 
 seen a Juliet on the stage, who appeared to appreciate the archness 
 of the dialogue with Romeo in this scene. . . , Though this is 
 the first interview of the lovers, we do not hear them speak until 
 the close of their dialogue, in which they have arrived at a pretty 
 thorough understanding of their mutual feelings. Juliet makes a 
 feint of parrying Romeo's advances, but does it archly, and knows 
 that he is to have the kiss he sues for. . . . And when Romeo 
 fairly gets her into the corner, towards which she has been con- 
 triving to be driven, and he says, ' Thus from my lips by thine 
 my sin is purged,' and does put them to that purgation, how slyly 
 the pretty puss gives him an opportunity to repeat the penance, by 
 replying, ' Then have my lips the sin that they have took.' " 
 
 119. my life, etc.: — He means that, as bereft of Juliet he should 
 die, his existence is at the mercy of his enemy, Capulet. These 
 lines are in Brooke : — 
 
 " So hath he learnd her name, and knowth she is no geast. 
 Her father was a Capilet, and master of the feast. 
 Thus hath his foe in choyse to geue him lyfe or death : 
 That scarsely can his wofull brest keepe in the liuely breath." 
 
 129. Come hither, nurse, etc. : — Again in Brooke : — 
 
 " As carefull was the mayde what way were best deuise 
 To learne his name, that intertaind her in so gentle wise. 
 Of whom her hart receiued so deepe, so wyde a wound, 
 An auncient dame she calde to her, and in her eare gan rounde. 
 This old dame in her youth, had nurst her with her mylke. 
 With slender nedle taught her sow, and how to spin with silke. 
 What twayne are those (quoth she) which prease vnto the doore, 
 Whose pages in theyr hand doe beare, two toorches light before. 
 And then as eche of them had of his houshold name. 
 So she him namde yet once agayne the yong and wyly dame. 
 And tell me who is he with vysor in his hand 
 That yender doth in masking weede besyde the window stand. 
 His name is Romeus (said shee) a Montegewe. 
 Whose fathers pryde first styrd the strife which both your hous- 
 holdes rewe." 
 
 167
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 13. Adam Cupid '.'^'Dow den says: ''Upton's conjecture Adam 
 '(easily misread Abram) is generally accepted, the allusion being 
 to the great archer, Adam Bell, famous in ballad poetry. Compare 
 Much Ado, I. i. 257-259: ' Shoot at me; and he that hits me, let 
 him be clapped on the shoulder, and called Adam.' If the source 
 of the Cophetua ballad were found, which may lurk in some old 
 book on Africa, a bowman named Abraham might be discovered. 
 An Ethiopian king was so named. If ' young Abraham ' is named 
 after the patriarch, the nickname must mean ' father of many 
 nations' (Genesis xvii. 5), not wholly inappropriate to Cupid. 
 Knight supposed that cheat was meant, the allusion being to the 
 Abraham-men of Elizabethan days — vagabonds, bare-armed and 
 bare-legged, pretending madness. In S. Rowlands's Martin Mark- 
 all (about 1609), he gives Abram as a slang word meaning inad. 
 In Street Robberies consider' d (about 1700) Abram is given as a 
 cant word for naked, which would suit Cupid well, but, though 
 clearly a relic of the Abraham-men, I have found no earlier ex- 
 ample in this sense. Again, as Theobald observed, abraham and 
 abram are old spellings of auburn (Coriolanns, II. iil. 21, Folio 
 text) ; many examples might be cited. . . . White reads ' au- 
 burn ' here. Finally, the nickname may be an allusion to some 
 forgotten Elizabethan contemporary." 
 
 18. Jiigh forehead: — Our Elizabethan ancestors had a perverted 
 liking for a bald brow. See the Two Gentlemen of l/'erona, IV. 
 iv. 198 : " Ay, but her forehead 's low." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 7. Be not her maid : — That is, be not a votary to the moon, or 
 Diana. 
 
 31. the lazy-pacing clouds: — So the first Quarto. The other old 
 copies have " lazie-pitMng clouds." Collier's second Folio changes 
 puffing to passing. " Take notice," says Coleridge, " in this en- 
 chanting scene of the contrast of Romeo's love with his former 
 fancy; and weigh the skill shown in justifying him from his in- 
 constancy by making us feel the difference of his passion. Yet 
 this, too, is a love in, although not merely of, the imagination." 
 
 92, 93. at lovers' perjuries, etc. : — This Shakespeare is supposed 
 
 168 
 
 i
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 to have found in Ovid's Art of Love — perhaps in Marlowe's trans- 
 lation : — 
 
 " For Jove himself sits in the azure skies, 
 And laughs below at lovers' perjuries." 
 
 116-124. Well, do not swear, etc.: — Upon this passage Cole- 
 ridge remarks : " With love, pure love, there is always an anxiety 
 for the safety of the object, a disinterestedness, by which it is 
 distinguished from the counterfeits of its name. Compare this 
 scene with Act III. Sc. i. of The Tempest. I do not know a more 
 wonderful instance of Shakespeare's mastery in playing a dis- 
 tinctly rememberable variety on the same remembered air, than in 
 the transporting love-confessions of Romeo and Juliet, and Fer- 
 dinand and Miranda." 
 
 142 et seq. In Brooke's poem Juliet uses similar expressions : — 
 
 " But if your thought be chaste, and have on vertue ground; 
 If wedlocke be the marke, which your desire hath found; 
 Obedience set aside, unto my parentes dewe. 
 The quarrell eke that long agoe betweene our householdes 
 
 grewe ; 
 Both me and myne I will all whole to you betake, 
 And, following you whereso you goe, my fathers house forsake. 
 But if by wanton love and by unlawfull sute 
 You thinke to plucke my maydehood's dainty frute, 
 You are begylde ; and now your Juliet you beseekes 
 To cease your sute, and suffer her to live emong her likes." 
 
 154. To-morrow: — "Exquisitely," says Clarke, "has Shake- 
 speare made Juliet pause not a moment on the impossible alter- 
 native that Romeo means otherwise than well. The breathless 
 hurry with breathing earnestness in all that Juliet utters during 
 this scene is marvellously true to the pulsing rapture of a young 
 girl's heart on first learning that she loves and is beloved." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [Friar Laurence.] " The reverend character of the Friar," 
 says Coleridge, " like all Shakespeare's representations of the 
 great professions, is very delightful and tranquillizing, yet it is 
 no digression, but immediately necessary to the carrying on of 
 the plot." 
 
 7, 8. / must up-Ull, etc. : — Shakespeare has here prepared us 
 
 i6g
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 for the part Friar Laurence is afterwards to sustain. Having 
 thus early discovered him to be a chemist, we are not surprised 
 when we find him furnishing the draught which produces the 
 catastrophe of the piece. 
 
 9,10. Lucretius, v. 259, has the same thought: " Omniparens, 
 eadem rerum commune sepulcrum." Likewise Mikon, in Para- 
 dise Lost, ii. 911: "The womb of nature, and perhaps her 
 grave." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 19. prince of cats: — Tybert is the name given to a cat in 
 Reynard the Fox. So in Dekker's Satiromastix, 1602: " Tho' 
 you were Tybert, prince of long-tail'd cats." Again, in Nash's 
 Have With You, etc. : " Not Tibalt prince of cats." 
 
 25,26. the first and second cause: — Meaning causes for which 
 a man is to fight. 
 
 33. grandsire: — Humorously apostrophizing his ancestors, whose 
 sober times were unacquainted with the fopperies here complained 
 of. 
 
 35-37- "^^^0 stand . . . bench : — During the period of great 
 " boulstered breeches," it is said to have been necessary to cut 
 away hollow places in the benches of the House of Commons, 
 without which those who stood on the nezv form could not sit at 
 ease on the old bench. Mercutio is making game of smart fellows 
 who with copious use of fencing-words pose as experts with the 
 weapons. 
 
 45. a grey eye : — Apparently what we now call a blue eye. He 
 means to admit that Thisbe had a tolerably fine eye. 
 
 y^. zvild-goose chase : — One kind of horse-race which resembled 
 the flight of "wild geese was formerly known by this name. Two 
 horses were started together, and whichever rider could get the 
 lead, the other rider was obliged to follow him wherever he chose 
 to go. This explains the pleasantry kept up here. 
 
 96, 97. against the hair: — From a French idiom meaning much 
 the same as the English against the grain. 
 
 171. a fool's paradise: — Compare A Handful of Pleasant De- 
 light es, 1584: — 
 
 " When they see they may her win, 
 They leave then where they did begin; 
 They prate, and make the matter nice, 
 And leave her in fooles paradise." 
 
 170
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 And Rich's Farewell : " Knowing the fashion of you men to be 
 such, as by praisyng our beautie, you think to bring into a fooles 
 paradize." 
 
 215. the dog's name: — Ben Jonson, in his English Grammar, 
 says, "R is the dog's letter, and hirreth in the sound." And 
 Nash, in Summer's Last Will and Testament, 1600, speaking of 
 dogs: "They arre and barke at night against the moone." 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 5. Which ten times faster, etc. : — Instead of this line and the 
 rest of the speech, the Quarto of 1597 has: — 
 
 " And runne more swift, than hastie powder fierd, 
 Doth hurrie from the fearfull Cannons mouth. 
 
 Enter Nurse. 
 Oh now she comes. Tell me gentle nurse, 
 What sayes my Loue ? " 
 
 Scene VI. 
 
 White says : " The traces of another hand than Shakespeare's 
 that have attracted my attention in the earlier version of this play 
 are not many, but they seem to me quite unmistakable. The first 
 that I noticed is the entire sixth Scene of Act II. . . . The 
 variations from the later version are of the most material nature ; 
 or, rather, the whole Scene was rewritten, and but a few lines of 
 the earlier version were retained." White thinks that some of 
 the changes in the revision were not for the better. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 II. Am I like such a fellozv? — "The quietness of this retort," 
 says Clarke, " with the slight but significant emphasis which we 
 imagine thrown upon the /, admirably gives point to the humor- 
 ous effect of Mercutio's lecturing Benvolio — the sedate and peace- 
 making Benvolio, and lectured by Mercutio, of all people ! — for 
 the sin of quarrelsomeness." 
 
 16-32. Nay, an there were two such, etc. : — In the Quarto of 
 1597 this passage is given thus : — 
 
 171
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 Mer. Nay, and there were two such, wee should haue none 
 shortly. Didst not thou fall out with a man for cracking of nuts, 
 hauing no other reason, but because thou hadst hasill eyes? what 
 eye but such an eye would have pickt out such a quarrell? With 
 another for coughing, because hee wakd thy dogge that lay a 
 sleepe in the Sunne? With a taylor for wearing his new dublet 
 before Easter: and with another for tying his new shoes with 
 olde ribands. And yet thou wilt forbid me of quarrelling. 
 
 156. How nice the quarrel was : — The rest of this speech ap- 
 pears thus in the Quarto of 1597 : — 
 
 " But Tibalt still persisting in his wrong. 
 The stout Mercutio drewe to calme the storme, 
 Which Romeo seeing cal'd stay Gentlemen, 
 And on me cry'd, who drew to part their strife, 
 And with his agill arme young Romeo, 
 As fast as tung cryde peace, sought peace to make. 
 While they were enterchanging thrusts and blows, 
 Under yong Romeos laboring arme to part, 
 The furious Tybalt cast an envious thrust, 
 That rid the life of stout Mercutio. 
 With that he fled, but presently return'd, 
 And with his rapier braved Romeo : 
 That had but newly entertain'd revenge. 
 And ere I could draw forth my rapyer 
 To part their furie, downe did Tybalt fall, 
 And this way Romeo fled." 
 
 161. " This small portion of untruth in Benvolio's narrative," 
 says Coleridge, " is finely'conceived." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 I. Gallop apace : — " Shakespeare," says Malone, " probably re- 
 membered Marlowe's Edward II. iv. iii. : — 
 
 " Gallop apace, bright Phoebus, through the sky, 
 And dusky night, in rusty iron car, 
 Between you both shorten the time." 
 
 So in Rich's Farewell, 1583 : " The day to his seeming passed 
 away so slowely that he had thought the stately steedes had bin 
 tired that drawe the chariot of the Sunne, and wished that Phae- 
 ton had beene there with a whippe." 
 
 172
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 6. That runaways' eyes may ivink : — Upon this, the main diffi- 
 culty of the passage which has been perhaps the greatest crux or 
 puzzle in Shakespeare, Dowden remarks : " I believe the genitive 
 singular runazvay's to be right, and I agree with Warburton that 
 the sun or Phoebus is meant. It is objected that Juliet has com- 
 plained of the slow pace of the sun; but now she imagines night 
 as having arrived, and the tardy sun has proved himself to be the 
 runaway he actually was. I do not wish to innovate in the text, 
 and I have left the commonly received punctuation. But a differ- 
 ent punctuation might solve the difficulty. The word That (be- 
 fore runazvay's) may be the demonstrative pronoun. . . . 
 
 * That runaway ' may mean ' yonder runaway,' or ' that runaway 
 (of whom I have spoken).' The central motive of the speech is 
 
 * Come night, come Romeo.' Having invoked night to spread the 
 •curtain, Juliet says, with a thought of her own joyful wakeful- 
 ness, * Yonder sun may sleep ' (wink having commonly this 
 sense) ; and then she calls on Romeo to leap to her arms. . . . 
 If following Delius we read runazvays' eyes, the runaways (if not 
 the stars) must be wanderers in the streets. Attempts have been 
 made to produce an example of runaway in such a sense, but, I 
 think, without success." The different punctuation suggested by 
 Dowden points the passage thus : — 
 
 " Spread thy close curtains love-performing night ! 
 — That [ = Yonder] runaway's eyes may wink — and Romeo, 
 Leap to these arms ! Untalk'd of and unseen, 
 Lovers can see, etc." 
 
 73-85. O serpent heart, etc. : — For this speech in the Quarto of 
 1597 there are merely these four lines : — 
 
 " O serpent's hate hid with a flowring face 
 O painted sepulcher, including filth. 
 Was neuer booke containing so foule matter 
 So fairly bound. Ah what ment Romeo ? " 
 
 85-91. There 's no trust . . . such a zvish : — Coleridge bids 
 us " note the Nurse's mistake of the mind's audible struggles with 
 itself for its decision in toto." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 41-44. The Quartos of 1599 and 1609 jumble various readings 
 together thus : — 
 
 173
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 " This maj^ flies do, when I from this must fly : 
 And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death? 
 But Romeo may not, he is banished. 
 Flies may do this, but I from this must fly : 
 They are free men, but I am banished." 
 
 85, 86. O zvocfnl sympathy, etc. : — The old copies make these 
 words a part of the Nurse's speech. They were assigned to the 
 Friar, at Farmer's suggestion. 
 
 109 ct seq. Shakespeare has here followed Brooke's poem : — 
 
 " Art thou, quoth he, a man ? thy shape saith, so thou art : 
 Thy crying and thy weeping eyes denote a womans hart ; 
 For manly reason is quite from of thy mynd outchased. 
 And in her stead affections lewd, and fancies highly placed. 
 So that I stoode in doute this howre (at the least) 
 If thou a man or woman wert, or else a brutish beast." 
 
 119. JVhy rairst thou, etc.: — Romeo has not railed on his birth 
 and heaven and earth ; but, as Malone remarked, Brooke's poem 
 describes him as doing so in his interview with the Friar ; and 
 Shakespeare followed the remonstrance of the Friar as it appears 
 in the poem, forgetful that he had neglected to put into Romeo's 
 mouth the rebellious clamour for which his spiritual adviser 
 chides him. The passage in the poem is as follows : — 
 
 " Fyrst Nature did he blame, the author of his lyfe. 
 In which his joyes had been so scant, and sorrowes aye so ryf e ; 
 The time and place of byrth he fiersly did reprove. 
 He cryed out with open mouth against the starres above." 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 The Quarto of 1597 has, "Enter Romeo and Juliet at the 
 window," and that of 1599 and the Folio have, "Enter Romeo 
 and Juliet aloft.'^ The place meant, White says, is plainly the 
 very same in which Romeo surprises Juliet confessing to herself 
 her love for him. Various editions have given the scene in as 
 many different ways. Malone says that Romeo and Juliet prob- 
 ably appeared in the balcony at the rear of the old English stage. 
 
 1-4. A writer in the Pictorial Shakspere gives the following on 
 this passage : " Amongst the fruit-bearing trees the pomegranate 
 is in some respects the most beautiful ; and therefore, in the South 
 of Europe, and in the East, it has become the chief ornament of 
 
 174
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 the garden. But where did Shakespeare find that the nightingale 
 haunted the pomegranate tree, pouring forth her song from the 
 same bough, week after week? Doubtless in some old travels 
 with which he was familiar. Chaucer puts his nightingale in 'a 
 fresh green laurel-tree ; ' but the preference of the nightingale for 
 the pomegranate is unquestionable. ' The nightingale sings from 
 the pomegranate groves in the daytime,' says Russel, in his ac- 
 count of Aleppo." 
 
 6. the herald of the morn : — Shakespeare has glorified this office 
 of the lark with special power in Venus and Adonis, 853 et seq. : — 
 
 " Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, 
 From his moist cabinet mounts up on high. 
 And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast 
 The sun ariseth in his majesty; 
 
 Who doth the world so gloriously behold, 
 The cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold." 
 
 Herford has this note : " Repeated attempts have been made to 
 prove Shakespeare indebted to Groto's Hadriana ; most positively 
 by Walker {Hist. Memoir on Ital. Tragedy, 1799) and Klein 
 (Gesch. des Dramas, v. 436). The passage to which they attach 
 most weight is the parting scene fill, v.), where Latino (Romeo) 
 bids Hadriana listen to the nightingale. But the whole resem- 
 blance reduces itself to the nightingale, while even this is quite 
 differently applied. In Groto it is actually the nightingale whose 
 song is heard ; in Shakespeare, Juliet would fain believe the lark 
 to be the nightingale." 
 
 14. torch-bearer: — So in Sidney's Arcadia: "The moon, then 
 full (not thinking scorn to be a torch-bearer to such beauty), 
 guided her steps." And Sir John Davies's Orchestra, speaking 
 of the Sun : — 
 
 " When the great torch-bearer of heaven was gone 
 Downe in a maske unto the ocean's court." 
 
 17-25. Let me be ta'en, etc.: — The Quarto of 1597 gives this 
 speech in a form which the Poet will hardly be thought to have 
 improved : — 
 
 " Let me stay here, let me be ta'en, and die ; 
 If thou wilt have it so, I am content. 
 I '11 say yon gray is not the morning's eye, 
 It is the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; 
 I '11 say it is the nightingale that beats 
 
 175
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 The vaulty heaven so far above our heads, 
 And not the lark, the messenger of morn : 
 Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it so — 
 What says my love? let 's talk, 'tis not yet day." 
 
 54. / have an ill-divining soul : — " This miserable prescience of 
 futurity," says Steevens, " I have always regarded as a circum- 
 stance peculiarly beautiful. The same kind of warning from the 
 mind Romeo seems to have been conscious of on his going to the 
 entertainment at the house of Capulet " (I. iv. 106-109). 
 
 59. Adieu, adieu! — Brandes has this comment: "The exquisite 
 dialogue in Juliet's chamber at daybreak is a variation on the mo- 
 tive of all the old Dawn-Songs. They always turn upon the 
 struggle in the breasts of two lovers who have secretly passed 
 the night together, between their reluctance to part and their 
 dread of discovery — a struggle which sets them debating whether 
 the light they see comes from the sun or the moon, and whether 
 it is the nightingale or the lark whose song they hear." 
 
 86, 87. Ay, madam, etc. : — In reply to Johnson's criticism that 
 "Juliet's equivocations are rather too artful for a mind disturbed 
 by the loss of a new lover," Clarke says : " It appears to us that, 
 on the contrary, the evasions of speech here used by the young 
 girl-wife are precisely those that a mind, suddenly and sharply 
 awakened from previous inactivity, by desperate love and grief, 
 into self-conscious strength, would instinctively use. Especially 
 are they exactly the sort of shifts and quibbles that a nature ren- 
 dered timid by stinted intercourse with her kind, and by com- 
 munion limited to the innocent confidences made by one of her 
 age in the confessional, is prone to resort to, when first left to 
 itself in difficulties of situation and abrupt encounter with life's 
 perplexities. The Italian-born-and-bred Juliet is made by our 
 author to speak and act with wonderful truth to her southern 
 self." 
 
 130. conduit : — The same image, which was in frequent use with 
 Shakespeare's contemporaries, occurs in Brooke's poem : " His 
 sighs are stopt, and stopped in the conduit of his tears." 
 
 157, 158. Out, etc. : — In the age of Shakespeare, authors not only 
 employed these terms of abuse in their original performances, but 
 even in their versions of the most chaste and elegant of the Greek 
 or Roman poets. Stanyhurst, the translator of Virgil, in 1582, 
 makes Dido call ^neas hedge-brat, cullion, and tar-breech, in the 
 course of one speech. 
 
 176
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 222. green : — Hanmer, followed by Warburton and Johnson, 
 read keen. From Chaucer to Longfellow the praises of green or 
 greenish-yellow (citrine) eyes have been sung, and not in English 
 poetry alone. In The Tzvo Noble Kinsmen, V. i., we have "thy 
 rare green eye." In a sonnet by Drummond, the gods advise 
 Nature as to the most desirable colour for Auristella's eyes ; Na- 
 ture accepts the advice of Jove and Venus, and the eyes are " a 
 paradise of green." Compare the comic praise of green eyes in 
 A Midsummer-Night's Dream, V. i. 333: "His eyes were green 
 as leeks." 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 3. slow to slack : — Malone explains this to mean, " There is 
 nothing of slowness in me, to induce me to slacken or abate his 
 haste." Johnson's conjecture, back (for slack), means to abet and 
 enforce. Knight interprets "I am nothing slow (so as) to slack 
 his haste," which to Dowden seems the right explanation. 
 
 38. evening mass: — White says that this is an error, that mass 
 is always celebrated before midday. Evening service in the 
 Roman church, he adds, is called vespers. Wilkes, confronted 
 with Shakespeare's alleged erroneous use of evening mass, in his 
 inquiries found White's view supported by H. von Friesen in his 
 Alt-England und William Shakespeare, 1874. pp. 286-7, aiid also 
 by Staunton, who, says Dowden, " had previously noticed the same 
 difficulty." But the word mass, continues Dowden, as used in the 
 passage from Romeo and Juliet, is explained by Clarke as meaning 
 generally service, office, prayer. And in a note on the point in his 
 edition of this play Dowden refers us to '" The Religion of Shake- 
 speare, chiefly from the writings of Richard Simpson, by H. S. 
 Bowdon, 1899, pp. 271-274; it is there shown that mass was used 
 of various church offices ; that, in the stricter sense of mass, there 
 was great latitude in ancient times as to the hour; that Pius V. 
 (1566-72) prohibited evening masses; that the new law was slow 
 in coming into operation in Germany, and perhaps in England; 
 finally, that in Verona the forbidden custom lingered to the nine- 
 teenth century." As an interesting use of the phrase, these lines 
 are added from O. W. Holmes's Under the Violets : — 
 " The crickets, sliding through the grass, 
 Shall pipe for her an evening mass." 
 
 177
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 66. Be not so long to speak : — Clarke makes the observation 
 that " the constraint, with sparing speech, visible in Juliet when 
 with her parents, as contrasted with her free outpouring flow of 
 words when she is with her lover, her father confessor, or her 
 nurse — when, in short, she is her natural self and at perfect ease — 
 is true to characteristic delineation." 
 
 93. Take thou this vial, etc : — Brooke's poem reads : — 
 
 " Receiue this vyoll small and keepe it as thine eye ; 
 And on the mariage day, before the sunne doe cleare the skye. 
 Fill it with water full vp to the very brim, 
 Then drinke it of, and thou shalt feele throughout eche vayne 
 
 and lim 
 A pleasant slumber slide, and quite dispred at length 
 On all thy partes, from euery part reue all thy kindly strength ; 
 Withouten mouing thus thy ydle parts shall rest, 
 No pulse shall goe, ne hart once beate within thy hollow brest, 
 But thou shalt lye as she that dyeth in a traunce : 
 Thy kinsmen and thy trusty frendes shall wayle the sodain 
 
 chaunce ; 
 The corps then will they bring to graue in this church yarde. 
 Where thy forefathers long agoe a costly tombe preparde. 
 Both for them selfe and eke for those that should come after, 
 Both deepe it is, and long and large, where thou shalt rest, my 
 
 daughter. 
 Till I to Mantua sende for Romeus, thy knight ; 
 Out of the tombe both he and I will take thee forth that night." 
 
 105. two and forty hours: — " The rapidity of the whole conduct 
 of the action," in Dowden's view, " is surprising ; yet, up to the 
 night on which Juliet swallows the Friar's potion, there can be no 
 question as to the dating of days and hours. At this point Shake- 
 speare creates a difficulty that seems to be insuperable. He had 
 probably noticed in Painter's version of the tale a statement of the 
 Friar that the opiate effects of the drug were to continue for ' the 
 space of forty hours at the least.' As if to be more precise Shake- 
 speare names the period as 'two and forty hours.' From what 
 time of the night of Tuesday will forty-two succeeding hours 
 bring us to a very early morning hour (the month is July) of 
 either Thursday or Friday? . . . Perhaps the simplest ex- 
 planation of the difficulty is to admit that it was never meant to 
 be explained ; forty-two hours gave an air of precision and veri- 
 similitude to the Friar's arrangement; it sufficed to cover two 
 
 178
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 periods of night preceding two Italian summer dawns ; and the 
 dramatist knew that spectators in the theatre do not regulate their 
 imagination by a chronometer." 
 
 no. The Italian custom here alluded to, of carrying the dead 
 body to the grave richly dressed, and with the face uncovered, 
 Shakespeare found particularly described in Brooke's poem: — 
 
 " An other use there is, that whosoever dyes, 
 Borne to their church, with open face upon the beere he lyes, 
 In wonted weed attyrde, not wrapt in winding sheete." 
 
 •Scene II. 
 
 2. Shakespeare has been suspected of an oversight, or something 
 worse, in making Capulet give order here for so many cunning 
 cooks. Ritson says, " Either Capulet had altered his mind 
 strangely, or our author forgot what he had just made him tell 
 us." But the passage, as Knight says, is entirely in keeping with 
 Shakespeare's habit of hitting off a character almost by a word. 
 Capulet is a man of ostentation ; but his ostentation is covered 
 with a thin veil of affected indifference. In the first Act he says 
 to his guests, " We have a trifling foolish banquet towards." In 
 the third Act, when he settles rfie day of Paris's marriage, he just 
 hints, " We '11 keep no great ado ; a friend or two." But Shake- 
 speare knew that these indications of " the pride which apes hu- 
 mility " were not inconsistent with the twenty cooks. 
 
 6, 7. 'tis an ill cook, etc. : — This adage is in Puttenham's Arte of 
 English Poesie, 1589: — 
 
 " As the olde cocke crowes so doeth the chicke : 
 A bad cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 5. cross and full of sin : — Edward von Hartmann has launched a 
 diatribe against Juliet. He asserts her immeasurable moral infe- 
 riority to the typical German maiden, both of poetry and of real 
 life. A Swedish professor, Henrik Schiick, says of Juliet : " On 
 examining into the nature of the love to which she owes all this 
 strength, the unprejudiced reader cannot but recognize in it a 
 purely sensual passion. ... A few words from the lips of this 
 well-favoured youth are sufficient to awaken in its fullest strength 
 the slumbering desire in her breast. But this love possesses no 
 
 179
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 psychical baSiS; it is not founded on any harmony of souls. . . . 
 The woman who, inaccessible to the spiritual element in love, lets 
 herself be carried away on this first meeting by the joy of the 
 senses, is ignorant of the love which our age demands." These will 
 appear to be cross, that is, perverse criticisms to most students 
 of the majority of great commentators on the character of Juliet. 
 
 22,. Lie thou there: — "Daggers," says Gifford, "or, as they are 
 commonly called, knives, were worn at all times by every woman 
 in England ; whether they were so in Italy, Shakespeare, I believe, 
 never inquired, and I cannot tell." 
 
 39-41. As in a vault, etc. : — This idea was perhaps suggested to 
 the Poet by his native place. The charnel at Stratford-on-Avon 
 is a very large one, and possibly contains a greater number of 
 bones than are to be found in any other repository of the same 
 kind in England. 
 
 47. mandrakes' : — " The mandrake," says Thomas Newton in his 
 Herbal, " has been idly represented as a creature having life, and 
 engendered under the earth of the seed of some dead person that 
 hath beene convicted and put to death for some felonie or murther, 
 and that they had the same in such dampish and funerall places 
 where the saide convicted persons were buried." So in Webster's 
 Duchess of MalR, 1623 : " I have this night digg'd up a mandrake, 
 and am grown mad with it." 
 
 58. Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee: — Such is the closing 
 line of this speech in the Quarto of 1597. The later editions 
 give it thus : " Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, heeres drinke, I drink to 
 thee;" where a stage direction (heeres drinke) has evidently got 
 printed as a part of the text. Coleridge remarks upon the pas- 
 sage thus : " Shakespeare provides for the finest decencies. It 
 would have been too bold a thing for a girl of fifteen; but she 
 swallows the draught in a fit of fright." Schlegel has the same 
 thought. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 " This," says Corson, " is one of those scenes so frequent in 
 Shakespeare's plays which, by their commonplaceness and even, 
 sometimes, vulgarity, serve to deepen the impressions of the sad 
 and the tragic." 
 
 6, 7. Go, you cot-quean, etc. : — By Walker, Singer, Verplanck, 
 and Hudson this speech is given to Lady Capulet, on the ground 
 that we cannot imagine that a servant would take so great a 
 
 180
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 liberty with her master as to call him a cot-quean and order him 
 to bed. It is also pointed out that the Nurse is not present, having 
 just been sent to fetch more spices. 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 14. my lady's dead: — Lloyd remarks on this scene thus: "What 
 a picture of a commonplace grieving household is that assembled 
 round the seeming death-bed of Juliet — the world pausing for 
 a moment with suspended feelings at the shock of a suddenly 
 terminated existence, and after a few moments recommencing 
 an unaltered course which beyond the very narrow circle of 
 contact was never interrupted. No thought of recent unkindness 
 touches the hearts of father or mother, and the rapture of the 
 blubbering Nurse is a welcome diversion of our feelings, and gives 
 us an excuse to smile. It is by thus completing the picture of 
 society in all directions, the intellectual, fanciful, animated and 
 irritable, sentimental and sympathetic, and the opposites and nega- 
 tives of all, and in all grades of the social order, that a living real- 
 ity is gained for ideal and poetic love; and notwithstanding its 
 exaltation it descends to us and embraces us invincibly, and the 
 sympathies cling fearlessly and believingly to a glory that is bright 
 with beams from Paradise, yet so accompanied and associated as 
 neither to scare us as a phantom alluring to destroy, nor mock us 
 with hopelessness of a beauty that can never be achieved." 
 
 49. O woe! etc.: — White says that "in this speech of mock 
 heroic woe, and perhaps in the two that follow, Shakespeare seems 
 to have ridiculed, as he has done elsewhere, the translation of 
 Seneca's Tragedies, published in 1581. In the Quarto of 1597, for 
 the speeches of the Nurse and Paris, we have, with the stage 
 direction, 'All cry out at once, and wring their hands.' " 
 
 loi. {Enter Peter.] Coleridge has the following remark here: 
 " As the audience know that Juliet is not dead, this scene is, per- 
 haps, excusable. But it is a strong warning to minor dramatists 
 not to introduce at one time many separate characters agitated by 
 one and the same circumstance. It is difficult to understand what 
 effect, whether that of pity or of laughter, Shakespeare meant to 
 produce; the occasion and the characteristic speeches are so little 
 in harmony ! For example, what the Nurse says is excellently 
 suited to the Nurse's character, but grotesquely unsuited to the 
 occasion." 
 
 105, 106. My heart is full of woe : — This is the burden of the 
 
 i8i
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 first stanza of A Pleasant New Ballad of Two Lovers : " Hey 
 hoe ! my heart is full of woe." 
 
 129. Catling: — This worthy takes his name from a small lute- 
 string made of catgut; his companion the fiddler, from an instru- 
 ment of the same name mentioned by many of our old writers, and 
 recorded by Milton as an instrument of mirth : — 
 
 " When the merry bells ring round. 
 And the joyful rebecks sound." 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 The breathless rapidity of incidents, this hasty interchange,' 
 this closest interweaving and association of rapture and misery in 
 the distribution of the plot, is in sympathy with the characteristic 
 passion that gives the central impulse of the play, on which all 
 depends. The hasty precipitancy of the passion of Romeo and 
 Juliet is the ruling motive with which all the accompaniments har- 
 monize, as it seems the highest expression of a prevailing tendency 
 of the age and the clime. 
 
 24. then I defy you, stars! — The moment that Romeo receives 
 the false tidings of Juliet's death is the moment of his assuming 
 full manhood. Accordingly, he now speaks with masculine direct- 
 ness and energy ; he is now master of events ; the stars cannot 
 alter his course. 
 
 34. Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night: — Nothing, as 
 Maginn has observed, can be more quiet than this final determina- 
 tion. " It is plain Juliet ; ... no honeyed word escapes his 
 lips^ nor, again, does any accent of despair. His mind is so made 
 up, the whole course of the short remainder of his life- so unalter- 
 ably fixed, that it is perfectly useless to think more about it." 
 These words, because they are the simplest, are among the most 
 memorable that Romeo utters. Romeo, who was weak, has at 
 length become strong." 
 
 Scene IL 
 
 5, 6, a hare-foot brother . . . associate me : — Each friar had 
 always a companion assigned him by the superior, when he asked 
 leave to go out. In the Visitatio Notabilis de Seleborne, a curious 
 record printed in White's Natural History of Selborne, Wykeham 
 
 182
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 enjoins the canons not to go abroad without leave from the prior, 
 who is ordered on such occasions to assign the brother a com- 
 panion. There is a similar regulation in the statutes of Trinitjr 
 College, Cambridge. So in Brooke's poem: — 
 
 "Apace our frier John to Mantua him hyes, 
 And for because in Italy it is a wonted gyse 
 That friers in the towne should seldome walke alone, 
 But of theyr covent ay should be accompanide with one 
 Of his profession, straight a house he fyndeth out, 
 In mynde to take some frier with him, to walke the town about." 
 
 II. Seal'd up : — A duty of the English constable. Herford tells 
 us that " the Middlesex Sessions Rolls contain cases of the trial of 
 constables for neglecting this duty." 
 
 i8. The letter was not nice: — That is, was not on a trivial or 
 idle matter, but on a subject of importance, the sense of nice 
 {trifling) being the same here as in III. i. 156. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 [A churchyard ; in it a monument, etc.] The monument in 
 which Juliet was entombed plays as important a part in the old 
 tale as in the tragedy; and it has been conjectured, perhaps with 
 reason, that the original author had in mind the tomb of the 
 Scaligers or della Scalas in Verona. There is a tradition in 
 Verona that the lovers were buried in the crypt of the Franciscan 
 convent of Fermo Maggiore ; and a plain stone sarcophagus which 
 was removed from the ruins of that building after its destruction 
 by fire, is yet shown in Verona as Juliet's tomb. 
 
 12-17. Sweet flower, etc.: — Instead of these six lines, the Quarto 
 of 1597 has the following seven, which some editors have pre- 
 ferred : — 
 
 " Sweet flower, with flowers I strew thy bridal 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, 
 With funeral praises do adorn thy tomb." 
 
 48. [Opens the tomb.] Daniel supposes that the tomb was 
 placed in the space under the gallery at the back of the stage 
 
 183
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 proper. Malone thinks a trap-door may have been opened, and 
 that Romeo may have brought JuHet up in his arms from the vault 
 beneath the stage. 
 
 87. a dead man : — Romeo, who so speaks of himself by reason 
 of his having come here to die. 
 
 90. A lightning before death: — Schmidt explains this as "a last 
 blazing-up of the flame of life." This idea frequently occurs in 
 old dramas. So in The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon, 
 1601 :— 
 
 "I thought it was a lightning before death, 
 Too sudden to be certain." 
 
 92,93. Death . . . beauty: — So in Sidney's Arcadia: "Death 
 being able to divide the soule, but not the beauty, from her body." 
 
 96. death's pale Hag: — A connection is traceable between parts 
 of this speech and some lines in Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond, 
 1592. For example, compare the following : — 
 
 "And nought-respecting death, the last of pains, 
 Plac'd his pale colours, th' ensign of his might, 
 Upon his new-got spoil before his right." 
 
 97. Tybalt, etc. : — Brooke's poem reads : — 
 
 " Ah cosin dere, Tybalt, where so thy restles sprite now be, 
 With stretched handes to thee for mercy now I crye, 
 For that before thy kindly howre I forced thee to dye. 
 But if with quenched lyfe not quenched be thine yre, 
 But with revengeing lust as yet thy hart be set on fyre, 
 What more amendes, or cruell wreke desyrest thou 
 To see on me, then this which here is shewd forth to thee now? 
 Who reft by force of armes from thee thy living breath, 
 The same with his owne hand (thou seest) doth poyson himselfe 
 to death." 
 
 Id. Forgive me, cousin: — "Inexpressibly beautiful and mov- 
 ing," says Clarke, " is this gentleness of Romeo's in his death hour. 
 His yearning to be at peace with his foe, his beseeching pardon of 
 him and calling him kinsman in token of final atonement, his for- 
 bearance and even magnanimity towards Paris, his words of clo- 
 sing consideration and kindly farewell to his faithful Balthasar, all 
 combine to crown Romeo as the prince of youthful gentlemen and 
 lovers." 
 
 137-139- ^<y ^ did sleep, etc. :— " This," says Steevens, " is one of 
 
 184
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Notes 
 
 the touches of nature that would have escaped the hand of any 
 painter less attentive to it than Shakespeare. What happens to 
 a person while he is under the manifest influence of fear, will seem 
 to him, when he is recovered from it, like a dream. Homer repre- 
 sents Rhesus dying, fast asleep, and, as it were, beholding his 
 enemy in a dream, plunging a sword into his bosom." But Dow- 
 den says, " I fail to see any other ' touch of nature ' here than that 
 Balthasar, who did not venture to his master's assistance, wishes 
 to break tiie fact to the Friar rather than state it plainly." 
 
 162. his timeless end: — Shakespeare has been arraigned for 
 making Romeo die before Juliet awakes from her trance, and thus 
 losing a happy opportunity of introducing an affecting scene be- 
 tween these unfortunate lovers. But Schlegel thinks that the Poet 
 hit upon what was best, for there is a measure of agitation beyond 
 which all that is superadded becomes torture, or glides off inef- 
 fectually from the already saturated mind. Why should we heap 
 still more upon accident that is already so guilty? " Romeo," says 
 Schlegel, " holds his beloved in his arms, and, dying, cheers him- 
 self with a vision of everlasting marriage. She also seeks death, 
 in a kiss, upon his lips. These last moments must belong unpar- 
 ticipated to tenderness, that we may hold fast to the thought, that 
 love lives, although the lovers perish." 
 
 194. startles in our ears: — The old copies have your instead of 
 our. Johnson made the change, which, though perhaps not neces- 
 sary to the sense, helps it a good deal. 
 
 203. his house: — The dagger's sheath. 
 
 204. on the back : — Anciently, the dagger was usually worn be- 
 hind the back. So in Humour's Ordinarie: "See you yon huge 
 bum dagger at his hack ? " 
 
 305. A glooming peace: — The Quarto of 1597 has gloomy, 
 adopted by Hudson (Harvard ed.). To gloom is an ancient verb, 
 used by Spenser and other old writers. 
 
 308. Some shall he pardon' d, etc. : — This line has reference to 
 Brooke's poem, in which the Nurse is banished for concealing the 
 marriage ; Romeo's servant set at liberty, because he had only 
 acted in obedience to his master's orders ; the Apothecary is 
 hanged ; while Friar Laurence is permitted to retire to a her- 
 mitage near Verona, where he ends his life in penitence and peace. 
 
 310. [Exeunt.] "In conclusion," says Ulrici, "let me add a 
 few remarks in regard to the closing scene of the drama. It has 
 been objected to, and sometimes altered or omitted, because it was 
 supposed that Shakespeare had there offended the laws of dramatic 
 
 ■J85
 
 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 art, inasmuch as, instead of directly closing with the death of the 
 lovers, he added a superfluous scene of explanation and enquiry 
 which weakened the tragic impression. But is the scene merely 
 one of explanation and enquiry? Has the tragedy no other object 
 than of shaking the nerves of the spectators out of their ordinary 
 state of lassitude, by scenes of murder and suicide? Would not 
 the death of beauty, greatness and nobility leave the impression of 
 a revolting murder, did it not, at the same time, express a soothing, 
 elevating solace? And this solace, which is an element in the con- 
 ception of tragic pathos — inasmuch as it also portrays human 
 greatness and beauty in its purification, and hence in its true, ideal 
 reality — sounds forth from this closing scene in the soft harmony 
 of a calm, intense sadness, a harmony in which all harshness is 
 resolved into sweet sound. ... No more significant, more ex- 
 alting, or more affecting funeral elegy can be conceived than is 
 here presented to the lovers — the victims of a high, noble and 
 ideal striving — by the beautiful, deeply poetical drama." 
 
 i8^
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET 
 
 Questions on Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 1. What is the probable date of composition? What facts, ex- 
 ternal and internal, assist in establishing the date? 
 
 2. Give the sources of the plot. Mention some earlier plays 
 on the same theme. 
 
 3. How long a time does the action of the play cover? 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 4. What was there in the history of Verona to justify the tur- 
 bulence of the street scenes in this play? Why is Verona called 
 fair? How is the first Scene built up to a climax? What feel- 
 ing of absurdity do you derive concerning the servants' quarrel? 
 
 5. How is Romeo first described? Where does Romeo ex- 
 press sentiments similar to some contained in the Sonnets? 
 
 6. What argument do Capulet and Paris enter into in Sc. ii.? 
 What facts about Juliet do you obtain? 
 
 7. Who is not invited to the feast of the Capulets? How does 
 Romeo discover the list of guests? What motive leads him to 
 accept Benvolio's proposal that he go an uninvited guest? 
 
 8. State some of the mental traits of the Nurse as displayed in 
 her first long speech. To what event, if any, of a historical char- 
 acter did the Nurse allude when she said, 'Tis since the earth- 
 quake now eleven years? 
 
 9. What sort of a woman was Juliet's mother? What first im- 
 pression of Juliet do you derive from her? 
 
 10. What mental traits does Mercutio possess as exhibited in 
 Sc. iv. ? 
 
 11. What is Romeo's feeling at the gateway of the Capulets? 
 What does it foreshadow? Is it art or nature that really demands 
 these gloomy reflections ; or rather would it be good art to leave 
 this Act a purely idyllic one with no foreshadowing of tragic 
 consequences? How does Juliet in Sc. v. strike the note? 
 
 12. What do you infer from the dialogue of the servingmen in 
 Sc. v., considered with reference to the following points : Has it 
 
 187
 
 Questions THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 any connection with the plot? What purpose does it serve? Why 
 are dialogues of this sort frequent in Shakespeare? 
 
 13. Review the first Act and from it prophesy the denouement 
 of the play. What have we here laid down as the active prin- 
 ciple or the problem to be solved? What is the enveloping at- 
 mosphere ? 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 14. Does Sc. i. contain any important dramatic action? What 
 gives it its value, or makes it at all vital to the play? Had Mer- 
 cutio or Benvolio any suspicion of the new direction of Romeo's 
 afifections ? 
 
 15. How do you explain Romeo's protestations of love to 
 Juliet (Sc. ii.) in view of his past declarations concerning 
 Rosaline? 
 
 16. Explain Juliet's dread of Romeo's family name, in view of 
 the fact that her father had spoken kindly of Romeo in her pres- 
 ence. May not her belief that her father would not consent to 
 a marriage have been mistaken? 
 
 17. Is there anything in this interchange of words of Romeo 
 and Juliet that is not absolutely compatible with the thoughts of 
 youth ? 
 
 18. Quote such lines in the " balcony scene " as have become 
 either proverbs or familiar quotations. 
 
 19. When does Sc. iii. take place? How long since the begin- 
 ning of the action? What attributes of the priestly office do 
 you see in Friar Laurence? Does he easily yield to Romeo's 
 request? How does he excuse his determination? 
 
 20. What act of Tybalt's is discussed in Sc. iv. by Benvolio 
 and Mercutio? 
 
 21. What does Mercutio satirize in lines 19-37? How is 
 Romeo brought into the conversation? 
 
 22. What change do you note in the mood of Romeo when you 
 see him in the company of Mercutio and Benvolio? What is the 
 cause ? 
 
 2,z. Why does the Nurse call for her fan? 
 
 24. Did not the Nurse enjoy the banter of Mercutio rather 
 more than the indignation she expresses after his exit would in- 
 dicate ? 
 
 25. Do you think Juliet actually sent a message to Romeo that 
 the Nurse will keep to herself, or is this a delicate stroke of 
 
 188
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Questions 
 
 Shakespeare's to exhibit the capriciousness of the Nurse's char- 
 acter in withholding the message? 
 
 26. What appointment is made by Romeo? How is the sense 
 of the danger of the plan augmented? 
 
 27. What is the dramatic effect of Juliet's long soliloquy at 
 the opening of Sc. v.? 
 
 28. How does the Nurse play upon Juliet's impatience? Is it 
 intentional or characteristic? 
 
 29. What do you say of the suitability of the Nurse for the 
 post she holds? 
 
 30. Is there anything fateful by implication in the invocation 
 of the Friar? 
 
 31. What psychological explanation can you give of the fact 
 that these supreme moments, as you see them now in the lives ol 
 Romeo and Juliet, induce moods of sadness or fatality? 
 
 S2. Could Friar Laurence have legally married Juliet to Romeo 
 with the secrecy upon which the plot depends? What do you 
 understand by the term "Friar" as applied to Laurence? 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 33. From the words of Benvolio and Mercutio, which do you 
 think will pick the quarrel first? 
 
 34. What reasons had Romeo for avoiding the quarrel? 
 
 35. In what temper does Mercutio leave the stage? 
 
 36. Analyze Romeo's / thought all for the best (Sc. i. line 
 106); also O, I am fortune's fool! (line 138). What likeness 
 does he bear to Hamlet? 
 
 37. What note reminiscent of Hamlet do lines 121, 122 con- 
 tain? 
 
 38. Does Benvolio tell the truth in his account of Mercutio's 
 death? If not, what was his motive? 
 
 39. Is it good dramatic art to place a long speech like Ben- 
 volio's describing a scene that has just been performed in the 
 presence of the audience? Examine some of the later plays, 
 when Shakespeare's art was more mature, and see if you can 
 find similar instances. 
 
 40. What sentence is passed upon Romeo and upon the houses 
 of Montague and Capulet for the brawling? 
 
 41. What kind of government do you find to have existed in 
 Verona at this period? In respect to this is the play historic? 
 
 189
 
 Questions THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 42. Explain the classical figures at the opening of Juliet's apos- 
 trophe in Sc. ii. 
 
 43. Is the Nurse wilfully playing upon Juliet, or is she simply 
 indulging her habit of loose statement to the point of misleading 
 her? When does the Nurse first directly speak to Juliet? 
 
 44. Trace the successive states of mind that Juliet goes through. 
 What is the emotional effect of this Scene? With what disillu- 
 sion does it end? 
 
 45. Compare Scs. ii. and iii. and describe how they stand as re- 
 verse and obverse in their emotional progression. 
 
 46. In Romeo's plight is death rather to be welcomed than 
 banishment? Does Romeo here play the woman as the Friar 
 alleges? Compare the knocking scene here with that in Mac- 
 beth. Is there any similarity in the way they are managed? 
 
 47. Do you agree with the Nurse when she declares that she 
 could have stay'd here all the night to hear good counsel, or is 
 there much too much, and does Shakespeare laugh at himself 
 through the Nurse? 
 
 48. At what time does Sc. iv. take place? What is the ironic 
 effect of this Scene? What is its episodic value? 
 
 49. What time relation has Sc. v. with Sc. iv? Describe the 
 mental state of each of the two protagonists. 
 
 50. What foreshadowings of future events do we find in the 
 parting words (Sc. v.) of the lovers? What mental resources 
 does Juliet show in her use of double entente during the dialogue 
 with her mother? Has anything in Capulet prepared you for his 
 harshness and inflexibility in dealing with Juliet? 
 
 51. How would Ophelia have answered Capulet had she been 
 his daughter? 
 
 52. Why did not Juliet upbraid the Nurse for her perfidious 
 advice? Where does Juliet turn for help? Is she without defi- 
 nite resolution or has she a plan that she wishes the Friar to as- 
 sist in carrying out? 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 53. Whom does Juliet encounter at Friar Laurence's cell? 
 What is the character of her interview with this man? 
 
 54. Is the allusion to evening mass (Sc. i. 38) an error? If 
 so, why is Shakespeare credited by the critics with a familiarity 
 with the usages of the Roman Catholic Church? 
 
 190
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Questions 
 
 55. What is the dramatic effect of Juliet's speech, lines 81-85, 
 multiplying images associated with death? 
 
 56. What lore is implied by the allusion in Sc. ii. to the cook's 
 licking his own fingers? 
 
 57. How does Juliet couch her answer to her father's question 
 as to where she has been gadding? 
 
 58. What day is set for the wedding? Does this day coincide 
 with the day the Friar has assumed? Is this disparity a vital 
 point in the plot? 
 
 59. By yielding to the suggestion of an earlier day is Juliet 
 made a partaker in the chain of causes that end in disaster? 
 
 60. Is there any aissuading voice? Does this voice exhibit 
 anything of the irony of character? At this point does the play 
 touch the principles laid down for tragedy by the ancients? 
 
 61. Trace the progress of emotional states in Juliet in Sc. iii. 
 Does this Scene better than any other show her imaginative qual- 
 ities? 
 
 62. What ideas do you get of the management of a Veronese 
 household. At what time of day was it customary to celebrate 
 nuptials? 
 
 63. What effect does the wailing over the supposed death of 
 Juliet produce? Is it pathetic or ludicrous? What do you think 
 was the dramatist's intention, considering the fact that the au- 
 dience knows what the Friar, alone of the people of the play, 
 knows? 
 
 64. Does the plight of Paris move your sympathy? 
 
 65. Explain the musician's words, the case may be amended. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 66. What is the temper of Romeo's speech at the opening of 
 the Act? Its dramatic effect? What message does he receive? 
 
 67. Is it likely that a man in Romeo's emotional state would 
 remember the details of the apothecary's shop? What does 
 Romeo say about gold? 
 
 68. What prevents the delivery of the letter that Friar Lau- 
 rence dispatches to Romeo? 
 
 69. Does all the tragic consequence hang upon this mischance? 
 
 70. Does the cause seem insufficient for the effect ; that is, 
 should we not be made to feel the inevitableness of the cause 
 when the consequence is so tragic? 
 
 191
 
 Questions THE TRAGEDY OF 
 
 71. What is the order of events in Sc. iii.? 
 
 'J2.. What is Romeo's response to Paris's challenge? 
 
 TZ' Were not the facts as known wholly against Romeo, so that 
 Paris is excusable for forcing Romeo into a quarrel? How is 
 Paris's case supported by the dramatist? 
 
 74. What is the agency that arouses the families and the 
 townspeople? Do you feel a wide departure from verisimilitude? 
 
 75. Is it a good dramatic device to have the disentanglement ef- 
 fected by the recital of a witness or confidant instead of leaving 
 it to the action itself? 
 
 'jd. Compare this with some of the later tragedies and com- 
 ment on Shakespeare's development as a dramatist in the way 
 of effective curtains. 
 
 'jj. Is it defective art in Shakespeare to prolong his last acts 
 beyond the death of the principal personages in such tragedies 
 as the present one and Hamlctl Would the play have been 
 equally artistic had the ending been less tragical? 
 
 78. Is this a play for the study rather than for the stage? Did 
 Shakespeare have in mind a play for the study when he wrote? 
 What is the difference between the two kinds of work? 
 
 79. What class of admirers could appreciate this tragedy most : 
 those who read it or those who witness its performance on the 
 stage ? 
 
 80. What conception of love seems to dominate this play? 
 Brandes speaks of its Romanesque structure: what does he mean? 
 
 81. Does this drama give support to the notion that love at first 
 sight is rational? Can anything be deduced from this tragedy 
 with reference to love and if so, what? 
 
 82. Can you trace the spirit of the Renaissance throughout 
 this play? 
 
 83. A Midsummer-Night' s Dream is said to have character- 
 istics in common with Romeo and Juliet : what is your view of 
 this matter? 
 
 84. Have you any comment to make on the subject of the 
 emotional quality of the play? 
 
 85. Are the incidents of this play in accordance with your own 
 observations of human nature? 
 
 86. Indicate the sonnet form wherever it occurs. 
 
 87. Is there anything in Romeo and Juliet which points to the 
 conclusion that Shakespeare had been in Italy? 
 
 192
 
 ROMEO AND JULIET Questions 
 
 88. What is indicated in this play with reference to the me- 
 chanical structure and resources of the stage in Shakespeare's 
 day? 
 
 89. Would you place Juliet among the great female characters 
 in Shakespeare? May she be deemed typically Italian? Why? 
 Edward von Hartmann criticises " her immeasurable moral in- 
 feriority to the typical German maiden." How does that idea 
 impress you? Is Juliet's character that of a truthful person? Is 
 she dishonest in anything? 
 
 90. Which is the more practical and resolute — Romeo or 
 Juliet? 
 
 91. Do you detect any resemblance between Hamlet's character 
 and Romeo's? 
 
 92. How does the Nurse compare with any similar character 
 you may have encountered in your reading? 
 
 93. What is the difference between the character of Mercutio 
 and that of Benvolio? Cite characteristic speeches of each in 
 support of your view. What significance may be attached to 
 Mercutio's repetitions (Act III. Sc. i.) of A plague o' both your 
 houses ? 
 
 193
 
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