Enter Prince Escalus, with his train.
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,—[49] 80
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,
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands[50]
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,[51] 85
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,[52]
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
And made Verona's ancient citizens[53] 90
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,[54]
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,[55]
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:[55][56]
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. 95
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,[57]
To old Free-town, our common judgement-place. 100
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.[58]
[Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio.
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
And yours close fighting ere I did approach: 105
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,[60]
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn:[61] 110
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,[62]
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.[63]
Right glad I am he was not at this fray.[65] 115
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad:[66]
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore[67]
That westward rooteth from the city's side,[68] 120
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 affections by my own,
Which then most sought where most might not be found,[69] 125
Being one too many by my weary self,[70]
Pursued my humour, not pursuing his,[71]
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.[72]
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,[73] 130
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs:[74]
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw[75]
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son, 135
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,[76]
Unless good counsel may the cause remove. 140
But he, his own affections' counsellor,[79] 145
Is to himself—I will not say how true—
But to himself so secret and so close,
So far from sounding and discovery,[80]
As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, 150
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.[81]
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure as know.[82]
Enter Romeo.
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. 155
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.[83]
[Exeunt Montague and Lady.
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
Should without eyes see pathways to his will![89] 170
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
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![90] 175
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms![91]
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this. 180
Dost thou not laugh?
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast;[93]
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest[94] 185
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.[95]
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;[96]
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;[97]
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:[98] 190
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill![106]
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
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 unharm'd.[109]
She will not stay the siege of loving terms, 210
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,[110]
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:[111]
O, she is rich in beauty, only poor
That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store.[112]
For beauty, starved with her severity,[114]
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,[115]
To merit bliss by making me despair: 220
She hath forsworn to love; and in that vow
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
To call hers, exquisite, in question more:[119]
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,[120]
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
He that is strucken blind cannot forget[121] 230
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve but as a note[122]
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?[123]
Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. 235
Scene II. A street.[124]
Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.[125]
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,[127][128]
For men so old as we to keep the peace.[129]
And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. 5
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
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 10
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,[132]
She is the hopeful lady of my earth:[133] 15
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[134]
Lies my consent and fair according voice.[135]
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, 20
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.[136]
At my poor house look to behold this night
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:[137] 25
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel[138]
When well-apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh female buds shall you this night[139]
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, 30
And like her most whose merit most shall be:
Which on more view, of many mine being one[140]
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.[141]
Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about
Through fair Verona; find those persons out 35
Whose names are written there and to them say,[142]
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.[143]
[Exeunt Capulet and Paris.
It is written that the shoemaker should meddle with his[144]
yard and the tailer with his last, the fisher with his pencil 40
and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those
persons whose names are here writ, and can never find[145]
what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to[146]
the learned. In good time.[146]
Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;[148]
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;[149]
One desperate grief cures with another's languish:[150]
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,[151]
And the rank poison of the old will die. 50
Shut up in prison, kept without my food, 55
Whipt and tormented and—God-den, good fellow.[152]
I pray, can you read any thing you see?[154] 60
Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of[157][159] 65
Vitruvio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio[157]
and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife,[157]
and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior[157][160]
Valentio and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the lively[157][161]
Helena.'[157] 70
the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of
Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest[166] 80
you merry![167] [Exit.
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,[169]
With all the admired beauties of Verona:
Go thither, and with unattainted eye 85
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.[170]
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;[171]
And these, who, often drown'd, could never die,[172] 90
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun[173]
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
Scene III. A room in Capulet's house.[180]
Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.[181]