Loggia of Capulet's House
ACT III
Scene I.
A Public Place
Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants
Benvolio. 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.
Mercutio. Thou art like one of those fellows 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 second
cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is
10no need.
Benvolio. Am I like such a fellow?
Mercutio. 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.
Benvolio. And what to?
Mercutio. 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
20hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for 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?
30with another for tying his new shoes with old riband?
and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
Benvolio. 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.
Mercutio. The fee-simple! O simple!
Benvolio. By my head, here come the Capulets.
Mercutio. By my heel, I care not.
Enter Tybalt and others
Tybalt. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.—
Gentlemen, good den; a word with one of you.
40Mercutio. And but one word with one of us?
couple it with something; make it a word and a
blow.
Tybalt. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir,
an you will give me occasion.
Mercutio. Could you not take some occasion without
giving?
Tybalt. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,—
Mercutio. Consort! what, dost thou make us
minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to
50hear nothing but discords; here's my fiddlestick,
here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!
Benvolio. 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 gaze on us.
Mercutio. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Enter Romeo
Tybalt. Well, peace be with you, sir; here comes my man.
Mercutio. But I'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery.
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Marry, go before to field, he 'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
Tybalt. Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
No better term than this,—thou art a villain.
Romeo. 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.
Tybalt. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
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Romeo. I do protest, I never injur'd thee,
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love;
And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender
As dearly as my own,—be satisfied.
Mercutio. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
Tybalt. What wouldst thou have with me?
Mercutio. Good king of cats, nothing but one of
80your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal,
and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest
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.
Tybalt. I am for you. [Drawing.
Romeo. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Mercutio. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.
Romeo. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.—
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
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Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! [Exeunt Tybalt and his partisans.
Benvolio. What, art thou hurt?
Mercutio. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.—
Where is my page?—Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.
Romeo. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
Mercutio. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so
wide as a church-door, but 'tis enough, 'twill serve;
100ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave
man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this 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.
Romeo. I thought all for the best.
Mercutio. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint.—A plague o' both your houses!
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They have made worms' meat of me. I have it,
Romeo. This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander,—Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my cousin!—O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
Re-enter Benvolio
Benvolio. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
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That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
Romeo. This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end.
Benvolio. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Re-enter Tybalt
Romeo. 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 gav'st me! for Mercutio's soul
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Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company;
Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
Romeo. This shall determine that. [They fight; Tybalt falls.
Benvolio. Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
Stand not amaz'd; the prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
Romeo. O, I am fortune's fool!
Benvolio. Why dost thou stay? [Exit Romeo.
Enter Citizens, etc.
140
1 Citizen. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murtherer, which way ran he?
Benvolio. There lies that Tybalt.
1 Citizen. Up, sir, go with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their
Wives, and others
Prince. Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
Benvolio. O noble prince, I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady Capulet. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
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O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt
Of my dear kinsman!—Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.—
O cousin, cousin!
Benvolio. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure. All this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
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Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
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,
170
And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
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.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
Lady Capulet. He is a kinsman to the Montague;
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Affection makes him false, he speaks not true.
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
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.
Prince. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Montague. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.
Prince. And for that offence
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Immediately we do exile him hence.
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the 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,
Bear hence this body and attend our will;
200
Scene II.
Capulet's Orchard
Enter Juliet
Juliet. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phœbus' lodging; such a waggoner
As Phaethon would whip you to the west
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,
10
It best agrees with night.—Come, civil Night,
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,
21
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
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
30
To an impatient child that hath new robes
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.—
Enter Nurse, with cords
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
That Romeo bid thee fetch?
Nurse. Ay, ay, the Cords. [Throws them down.
Juliet. 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!
Juliet. Can heaven be so envious?
40
Nurse. Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot.—O Romeo, Romeo!—
Who ever would have thought it?—Romeo!
Juliet. 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 ay,
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 ay.
50
If he be slain, say ay; or if not, no.
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.
Juliet. 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,
60
And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
Juliet. What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd 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;
70
Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
Juliet. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
Juliet. O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face;
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
80
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
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 perjur'd,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.—
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ.—
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows, make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
90
Juliet.Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame;
Upon his brow shame is asham'd 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?
Juliet. 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?
100
But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
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 murther'd me. I would forget it fain,
110
But, O, it presses to my memory,
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,
120
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But with a rearward 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.
130
Juliet. Wash they his wounds with tears; mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those cords.—Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,
Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd;
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Nurse. Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
To comfort you; I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
Juliet. O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
141
And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt.
Scene III.
Friar Laurence's Cell
Enter Friar Laurence
Friar Laurence. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Enter Romeo
Romeo. Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?
Friar Laurence. Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company;
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Romeo. What less than doomsday is the prince's doom?
10
Friar Laurence. A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Romeo. Ha, banishment! be merciful, say death,
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death; do not say banishment.
Friar Laurence. Hence from Verona art thou banished;
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Romeo. There is no world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
20
And world's exile is death. Then banished
Is death misterm'd; calling death banishment
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil'st upon the stroke that murthers me.
Friar Laurence. 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.
Romeo. 'Tis torture, and not mercy; heaven is here,
30
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion-flies than Romeo. They may 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;
40
But Romeo may not, he is banished.
This may flies do, when 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,
50
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
Friar Laurence. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
Romeo. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Friar Laurence. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Romeo. Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
60
It helps not, it prevails not; talk no more.
Friar Laurence. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
Romeo. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Friar Laurence. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Romeo. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murthered,
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,
70
Friar Laurence. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
Romeo. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick groans
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. [Knocking.
Friar Laurence. 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,
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.
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Friar Laurence.Welcome, then.
Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
Friar Laurence. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case,
Just in her case!
Friar Laurence. O woful 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.
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Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Romeo. Nurse!
Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
Romeo. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth she not think me an old murtherer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd 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;
100
And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
Romeo.As if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murther her, as that name's cursed hand
Murther'd her kinsman.—O, tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion. [Drawing his sword.
Friar Laurence.Hold thy desperate hand!
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
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Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
The unreasonable fury of a beast.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me; by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady too that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
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Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose.
Fie, fie, thou sham'st 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;
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Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen 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
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And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back,
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehav'd and sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
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,
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Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
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
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To hear good counsel; O, what learning is!—
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Romeo. 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.
Romeo. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Friar Laurence. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence.
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
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And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you that chances here.
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
Romeo. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee.
Farewell. [Exeunt.
Scene IV.
A Room in Capulet's House
Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris