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Clowne: Maddam you are cald for, supper is readie,
the Nurce curst in the Pantrie, all thinges in extreamitie,
make hast for I must be gone to waite. 65
the Nurce curst in the Pantrie, all thinges in extreamitie,
make hast for I must be gone to waite. 65
[Sc. IV.]
Enter Maskers with Romeo and a Page.
Ro: What shall this speech bee spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without Apologie.
Or shall we on without Apologie.
Benuoleo: The date is out of such prolixitie,
Weele haue no Cupid hudwinckt with a Scarfe,
Bearing a Tartars painted bow of lath, 5
Scaring the Ladies like a crow-keeper:
Nor no withoutbooke Prologue faintly spoke
After the Prompter, for our entrance.
But let them measure vs by what they will,
Weele measure them a measure and be gone. 10
Weele haue no Cupid hudwinckt with a Scarfe,
Bearing a Tartars painted bow of lath, 5
Scaring the Ladies like a crow-keeper:
Nor no withoutbooke Prologue faintly spoke
After the Prompter, for our entrance.
But let them measure vs by what they will,
Weele measure them a measure and be gone. 10
Rom: A torch for me I am not for this aumbling,
Being but heauie I will beare the light.
Being but heauie I will beare the light.
Mer: Beleeue me Romeo I must haue you daunce.
Rom: Not I beleeue me you haue dancing shooes
With nimble soles, I haue a soule of lead 15
So stakes me to the ground I cannot stirre.
With nimble soles, I haue a soule of lead 15
So stakes me to the ground I cannot stirre.
Mer: Giue me a case to put my visage in,
A visor for a visor, what care I
What curious eye doth coate deformitie.
A visor for a visor, what care I
What curious eye doth coate deformitie.
Rom: Giue me a Torch, let wantons light of hart 20
Tickle the senceles rushes with their heeles:
For I am prouerbd with a Grandsire phrase,
Ile be a candleholder and looke on,
The game was nere so faire and I am done.
Tickle the senceles rushes with their heeles:
For I am prouerbd with a Grandsire phrase,
Ile be a candleholder and looke on,
The game was nere so faire and I am done.
Mer: Tut dun's the mouse, the Cunstables old word, 25
If thou beest Dun, weele draw thee from the mire
Of this surreuerence loue wherein thou stickst.
Leaue this talke, we burne day light here.
If thou beest Dun, weele draw thee from the mire
Of this surreuerence loue wherein thou stickst.
Leaue this talke, we burne day light here.
Rom: Nay thats not so. Mer: I meane sir in delay,
We burne our lights by night, like Lampes by day, 30
Take our good meaning for our iudgement sits
Three times a day, ere once in her right wits.
We burne our lights by night, like Lampes by day, 30
Take our good meaning for our iudgement sits
Three times a day, ere once in her right wits.
Rom: So we meane well by going to this maske:
But tis no wit to goe.
But tis no wit to goe.
Mer: Why Romeo may one aske? 35
Rom: I dreamt a dreame to night.
Mer: And so did I. Rom: Why what was yours?
Mer: That dreamers often lie.
Rom: In bed a sleepe while they doe dreame things true.
Mer: Ah then I see Queene Mab hath bin with you. 40
Ben: Queene Mab whats she?
She is the Fairies Midwife and doth come
In shape no bigger than an Aggat stone
On the forefinger of a Burgomaster,
Drawne with a teeme of little Atomi, 45
A thwart mens noses when they lie a sleepe.
Her waggon spokes are made of spinners webs,
The couer, of the winges of Grashoppers,
The traces are the Moone-shine watrie beames,
The collers crickets bones, the lash of filmes, 50
Her waggoner is a small gray coated flie,
Not halfe so big as is a little worme,
Pickt from the lasie finger of a maide,
And in this sort she gallops vp and downe
Through Louers braines, and then they dream of loue: 55
O're Courtiers knees: who strait on cursies dreame
O're Ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait:
Which oft the angrie Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breathes with sweet meats tainted are:
Sometimes she gallops ore a Lawers lap, 60
And then dreames he of smelling out a sute,
And sometime comes she with a tithe pigs taile,
Tickling a Parsons nose that lies a sleepe,
And then dreames he of another benefice:
Sometime she gallops ore a souldiers nose, 65
And then dreames he of cutting forraine throats,
Of breaches ambuscados, countermines,
Of healthes fiue fadome deepe, and then anon
Drums in his eare: at which he startes and wakes,
And sweares a Praier or two and sleepes againe. 70
This is that Mab that makes maids lie on their backes,
And proues them women of good cariage.
This is the verie Mab that plats the manes of Horses in the night,
And plats the Elfelocks in foule sluttish haire,
Which once vntangled much misfortune breedes. 75
She is the Fairies Midwife and doth come
In shape no bigger than an Aggat stone
On the forefinger of a Burgomaster,
Drawne with a teeme of little Atomi, 45
A thwart mens noses when they lie a sleepe.
Her waggon spokes are made of spinners webs,
The couer, of the winges of Grashoppers,
The traces are the Moone-shine watrie beames,
The collers crickets bones, the lash of filmes, 50
Her waggoner is a small gray coated flie,
Not halfe so big as is a little worme,
Pickt from the lasie finger of a maide,
And in this sort she gallops vp and downe
Through Louers braines, and then they dream of loue: 55
O're Courtiers knees: who strait on cursies dreame
O're Ladies lips, who dreame on kisses strait:
Which oft the angrie Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breathes with sweet meats tainted are:
Sometimes she gallops ore a Lawers lap, 60
And then dreames he of smelling out a sute,
And sometime comes she with a tithe pigs taile,
Tickling a Parsons nose that lies a sleepe,
And then dreames he of another benefice:
Sometime she gallops ore a souldiers nose, 65
And then dreames he of cutting forraine throats,
Of breaches ambuscados, countermines,
Of healthes fiue fadome deepe, and then anon
Drums in his eare: at which he startes and wakes,
And sweares a Praier or two and sleepes againe. 70
This is that Mab that makes maids lie on their backes,
And proues them women of good cariage.
This is the verie Mab that plats the manes of Horses in the night,
And plats the Elfelocks in foule sluttish haire,
Which once vntangled much misfortune breedes. 75
Rom: Peace, peace, thou talkst of nothing.
Mer: True I talke of dreames,
Which are the Children of an idle braine,
Begot of nothing but vaine fantasie,
Which is as thinne a substance as the aire, 80
And more inconstant than the winde,
Which wooes euen now the frosē bowels of the north,
And being angred puffes away in haste,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Which are the Children of an idle braine,
Begot of nothing but vaine fantasie,
Which is as thinne a substance as the aire, 80
And more inconstant than the winde,
Which wooes euen now the frosē bowels of the north,
And being angred puffes away in haste,
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
Ben: Come, come, this winde doth blow vs from ourselues. 85
Supper is done and we shall come too late.
Supper is done and we shall come too late.
Ro: I feare too earlie, for my minde misgiues
Some consequence is hanging in the stars,
Which bitterly begins his fearefull date
With this nights reuels, and expiers the terme 90
Of a dispised life, closde in this breast,
By some vntimelie forfet of vile death:
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Directs my saile, on lustie Gentlemen.
Some consequence is hanging in the stars,
Which bitterly begins his fearefull date
With this nights reuels, and expiers the terme 90
Of a dispised life, closde in this breast,
By some vntimelie forfet of vile death:
But he that hath the steerage of my course
Directs my saile, on lustie Gentlemen.
[Sc. V.]
Enter old Capulet with the ladies.
Capu: Welcome Gentlemen, welcome Gentlemen,
Ladies that haue their toes vnplagud with Corns
Will haue about with you, ah ha my Mistresses,
Which of you all will now refuse to dance?
Shee that makes daintie, shee Ile sweare hath Corns. 5
Am I come neere you now, welcome Gentlemen, welcome,
More lights you knaues, & turn these tables vp,
And quench the fire the roome is growne too hote.
Ah sirra, this vnlookt for sport comes well,
Nay sit, nay sit, good Cosen Capulet: 10
For you and I are past our standing dayes,
How long is it since you and I were in a Maske?
Ladies that haue their toes vnplagud with Corns
Will haue about with you, ah ha my Mistresses,
Which of you all will now refuse to dance?
Shee that makes daintie, shee Ile sweare hath Corns. 5
Am I come neere you now, welcome Gentlemen, welcome,
More lights you knaues, & turn these tables vp,
And quench the fire the roome is growne too hote.
Ah sirra, this vnlookt for sport comes well,
Nay sit, nay sit, good Cosen Capulet: 10
For you and I are past our standing dayes,
How long is it since you and I were in a Maske?
Cos: By Ladie sir tis thirtie yeares at least.
Cap: Tis not so much, tis not so much.
Tis since the mariage of Lucentio, 15
Come Pentecost as quicklie as it will,
Some fiue and twentie yeares, and then we maskt.
Tis since the mariage of Lucentio, 15
Come Pentecost as quicklie as it will,
Some fiue and twentie yeares, and then we maskt.
Cos: Tis more, tis more, his sonne is elder far.
Cap: Will you tell me that it cannot be so,
His sonne was but a Ward three yeares agoe,
Good youths I faith. Oh youth's a iolly thing.
His sonne was but a Ward three yeares agoe,
Good youths I faith. Oh youth's a iolly thing.
Rom: What Ladie is that that doth inrich the hand
Of yonder Knight? O shee doth teach the torches to burne bright!
It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night,
Like a rich iewell in an Aethiops eare, 25
Beautie too rich for vse, for earth too deare:
So shines a snow-white Swan trouping with Crowes,
As this faire Ladie ouer her fellowes showes.
The measure done, ile watch her place of stand,
And touching hers, make happie my rude hand. 30
Did my heart loue till now? Forsweare it sight,
I neuer saw true beautie till this night.
Of yonder Knight? O shee doth teach the torches to burne bright!
It seemes she hangs vpon the cheeke of night,
Like a rich iewell in an Aethiops eare, 25
Beautie too rich for vse, for earth too deare:
So shines a snow-white Swan trouping with Crowes,
As this faire Ladie ouer her fellowes showes.
The measure done, ile watch her place of stand,
And touching hers, make happie my rude hand. 30
Did my heart loue till now? Forsweare it sight,
I neuer saw true beautie till this night.
Tib: This by his voice should be a Mountague,
Fetch me my rapier boy. What dares the slaue
Come hither couer'd with an Anticke face, 35
To scorne and ieere at our solemnitie?
Now by the stocke and honor of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it for no sin.
Fetch me my rapier boy. What dares the slaue
Come hither couer'd with an Anticke face, 35
To scorne and ieere at our solemnitie?
Now by the stocke and honor of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it for no sin.
Ca: Why how now cosen, wherfore storme you so.
Ti: Vncle this is a Mountague our foe, 40
A villaine that is hether come in spight,
To mocke at our solemnitie this night.
A villaine that is hether come in spight,
To mocke at our solemnitie this night.
Ca: Young Romeo, is it not?
Ti: It is that villaine Romeo.
Ca: Let him alone, he beares him like a portly gentleman, 45
And to speake truth, Verona brags of him,
As of a vertuous and well gouern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all this towne,
Here in my house doo him disparagement:
Therefore be quiet take no note of him, 50
Beare a faire presence, and put off these frownes,
An ill beseeming semblance for a feast.
And to speake truth, Verona brags of him,
As of a vertuous and well gouern'd youth:
I would not for the wealth of all this towne,
Here in my house doo him disparagement:
Therefore be quiet take no note of him, 50
Beare a faire presence, and put off these frownes,
An ill beseeming semblance for a feast.
Ti: It fits when such a villaine is a guest,
Ile not indure him.
Ile not indure him.
Ca: He shalbe indured, goe to I say, he shall. 55
Am I the Master of the house or you?
You'le not indure him? God shall mend my soule
You'le make a mutenie amongst my guests.
You'le set Cocke a hoope, you'le be the man.
Am I the Master of the house or you?
You'le not indure him? God shall mend my soule
You'le make a mutenie amongst my guests.
You'le set Cocke a hoope, you'le be the man.
Ti: Vncle tis a shame. 60
Ca: Goe too, you are a saucie knaue.
This tricke will scath you one day I know what.
Well said my hartes. Be quiet:
More light Ye knaue, or I will make you quiet.
This tricke will scath you one day I know what.
Well said my hartes. Be quiet:
More light Ye knaue, or I will make you quiet.
Tibalt: Patience perforce with wilfull choller meeting, 65
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greetings:
I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall
Now seeming sweet, conuert to bitter gall.
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greetings:
I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall
Now seeming sweet, conuert to bitter gall.
Rom: If I prophane with my vnworthie hand,
This holie shrine, the gentle sinne is this: 70
My lips two blushing Pilgrims ready stand,
To smooth the rough touch with a gentle kisse.
This holie shrine, the gentle sinne is this: 70
My lips two blushing Pilgrims ready stand,
To smooth the rough touch with a gentle kisse.
Iuli: Good Pilgrime you doe wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this:
For Saints haue hands which holy Palmers touch, 75
And Palme to Palme is holy Palmers kisse.
Which mannerly deuotion shewes in this:
For Saints haue hands which holy Palmers touch, 75
And Palme to Palme is holy Palmers kisse.
Rom: Haue not Saints lips, and holy Palmers too?
Iuli: Yes Pilgrime lips that they must vse in praier.
Ro: Why then faire saint, let lips do what hands doo,
They pray, yeeld thou, least faith turne to dispaire. 80
They pray, yeeld thou, least faith turne to dispaire. 80
Iu: Saints doe not mooue though: grant nor praier forsake.
Ro: Then mooue not till my praiers effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by yours my sin is purgde.
Thus from my lips, by yours my sin is purgde.
Iu: Then haue my lips the sin that they haue tooke.
Ro: Sinne from my lips, O trespasse sweetly vrgde! 85
Giue me my sinne againe.
Giue me my sinne againe.
Iu: You kisse by the booke.
Nurse: Madame your mother calles.
Rom: What is her mother?
Nurse: Marrie Batcheler her mother is the Ladie of the 90
house, and a good Lady, and a wise, and a vertuous. I nurst
her daughter that you talkt withall, I tell you, he that can
lay hold of her shall haue the chinkes.
house, and a good Lady, and a wise, and a vertuous. I nurst
her daughter that you talkt withall, I tell you, he that can
lay hold of her shall haue the chinkes.
Rom: Is she a Mountague? Oh deare account,
My life is my foes thrall. 95
My life is my foes thrall. 95
Ca: Nay gentlemen prepare not to be gone,
We haue a trifling foolish banquet towards.
We haue a trifling foolish banquet towards.
They whisper in his eare.
I pray you let me intreat you. Is it so?
Well then I thanke you honest Gentlemen,
I promise you but for your company, 100
I would haue bin a bed an houre agoe:
Light to my chamber hoe. Exeunt.
Well then I thanke you honest Gentlemen,
I promise you but for your company, 100
I would haue bin a bed an houre agoe:
Light to my chamber hoe. Exeunt.
Iul: Nurse, what is yonder Gentleman?
Nur: The sonne and heire of old Tiberio.
Nur: That as I thinke is yong Petruchio.
Iul: Whats he that followes there that would not dance?
Nur: I know not.
Iul: Goe learne his name, if he be maried,
My graue is like to be my wedding bed. 110
My graue is like to be my wedding bed. 110
Nur: His name is Romeo and a Mountague, the onely
sonne of your great enemie.
sonne of your great enemie.
Iul: My onely Loue sprung from my onely hate,
Too early seene vnknowne, and knowne too late:
Prodigious birth of loue is this to me, 115
That I should loue a loathed enemie.
Too early seene vnknowne, and knowne too late:
Prodigious birth of loue is this to me, 115
That I should loue a loathed enemie.
Nurse: Whats this? whats that?
Iul: Nothing Nurse but a rime I learnt euen now of oue I dancst with.
Nurse: Come your mother staies for you, Ile goe a long
with you. Exeunt.
with you. Exeunt.
[Sc. VI.]
Enter Romeo alone.
Ro: Shall I goe forward and my heart is here?
Turne backe dull earth and finde thy Center out.
Turne backe dull earth and finde thy Center out.
Enter Benuolio Mercutio.
Ben: Romeo, my cosen Romeo.
Mer: Doest thou heare he is wise,
Vpon my life he hath stolne him home to bed. 5
Vpon my life he hath stolne him home to bed. 5
Ben: He came this way, and leapt this Orchard wall.
Call good Mercutio.
Call good Mercutio.
Mer: Call, nay Ile coniure too.
Romeo, madman, humors, passion, liuer, appeare thou in
likenes of a sigh: speek but one rime & I am satisfied, cry 10
but ay me. Pronounce but Loue and Doue, speake to
my gossip Venus one faire word, one nickname for her
purblinde sonne and heire young Abraham: Cupid hee
that shot so trim when young King Cophetua loued the
begger wench. Hee heares me not. I coniure thee by 15
Rosalindes bright eye, high forehead, and scarlet lip, her
prettie foote, straight leg, and quiuering thigh, and the
demaines that there adiacent lie, that in thy likenesse
thou appeare to vs.
likenes of a sigh: speek but one rime & I am satisfied, cry 10
but ay me. Pronounce but Loue and Doue, speake to
my gossip Venus one faire word, one nickname for her
purblinde sonne and heire young Abraham: Cupid hee
that shot so trim when young King Cophetua loued the
begger wench. Hee heares me not. I coniure thee by 15
Rosalindes bright eye, high forehead, and scarlet lip, her
prettie foote, straight leg, and quiuering thigh, and the
demaines that there adiacent lie, that in thy likenesse
thou appeare to vs.
Ben: If he doe heare thee thou wilt anger him. 20
Mer: Tut this cannot anger him, marrie if one shuld
raise a spirit in his Mistris circle of some strange fashion,
making it there to stand till she had laid it, and coniurde
it downe, that were some spite. My inuocation is faire
and honest, and in his Mistris name I coniure onely but 25
to raise vp him.
raise a spirit in his Mistris circle of some strange fashion,
making it there to stand till she had laid it, and coniurde
it downe, that were some spite. My inuocation is faire
and honest, and in his Mistris name I coniure onely but 25
to raise vp him.
Ben: Well he hath hid himselfe amongst those trees,
To be consorted with the humerous night,
Blinde in his loue, and best befits the darke.
To be consorted with the humerous night,
Blinde in his loue, and best befits the darke.
Mer: If loue be blind, loue will not hit the marke, 30
Now will he sit vnder a Medler tree,
And wish his Mistris were that kinde of fruite,
As maides call Medlers when they laugh alone.
Ah Romeo that she were, ah that she were
An open Et cætera, thou a poprin Peare. 35
Romeo God night, il'e to my trundle bed:
This field bed is too cold for mee.
Come lets away, for tis but vaine,
To seeke him here that meanes not to be found.
Now will he sit vnder a Medler tree,
And wish his Mistris were that kinde of fruite,
As maides call Medlers when they laugh alone.
Ah Romeo that she were, ah that she were
An open Et cætera, thou a poprin Peare. 35
Romeo God night, il'e to my trundle bed:
This field bed is too cold for mee.
Come lets away, for tis but vaine,
To seeke him here that meanes not to be found.
Ro: He iests at scars that neuer felt a wound: 40
But soft, what light forth yonder window breakes?
It is the East, and Iuliet is the Sunne,
Arise faire Sunne, and kill the enuious Moone
That is alreadie sicke, and pale with griefe:
That thou her maid, art far more faire than she. 45
Be not her maide since she is enuious,
Her vestall liuerie is but pale and greene,
And none but fooles doe weare it, cast it off.
She speakes, but she sayes nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourseth, I will answere it. 50
I am too bold, tis not to me she speakes,
Two of the fairest starres in all the skies,
Hauing some busines, doe entreat her eyes
To twinckle in their spheares till they returne.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head, 55
The brightnes of her cheekes would shame those stars:
As day-light doth a Lampe, her eyes in heauen,
Would through the airie region streame so bright,
That birdes would sing, and thinke it were not night.
Oh now she leanes her cheekes vpon her hand, 60
I would I were the gloue to that same hand,
That I might kisse that cheeke.
But soft, what light forth yonder window breakes?
It is the East, and Iuliet is the Sunne,
Arise faire Sunne, and kill the enuious Moone
That is alreadie sicke, and pale with griefe:
That thou her maid, art far more faire than she. 45
Be not her maide since she is enuious,
Her vestall liuerie is but pale and greene,
And none but fooles doe weare it, cast it off.
She speakes, but she sayes nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourseth, I will answere it. 50
I am too bold, tis not to me she speakes,
Two of the fairest starres in all the skies,
Hauing some busines, doe entreat her eyes
To twinckle in their spheares till they returne.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head, 55
The brightnes of her cheekes would shame those stars:
As day-light doth a Lampe, her eyes in heauen,
Would through the airie region streame so bright,
That birdes would sing, and thinke it were not night.
Oh now she leanes her cheekes vpon her hand, 60
I would I were the gloue to that same hand,
That I might kisse that cheeke.
Iul: Ay me.
Rom: She speakes, Oh speake againe bright Angell:
For thou art as glorious to this night beeing ouer my head, 65
As is a winged messenger of heauen
Vnto the white vpturned woondring eyes,
Of mortals that fall backe to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lasie pacing cloudes,
And sailes vpon the bosome of the aire. 70
For thou art as glorious to this night beeing ouer my head, 65
As is a winged messenger of heauen
Vnto the white vpturned woondring eyes,
Of mortals that fall backe to gaze on him,
When he bestrides the lasie pacing cloudes,
And sailes vpon the bosome of the aire. 70
Iul: Ah Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
Denie thy Father, and refuse thy name,
Or if thou wilt not be but sworne my loue,
And il'e no longer be a Capulet.
Denie thy Father, and refuse thy name,
Or if thou wilt not be but sworne my loue,
And il'e no longer be a Capulet.
Rom: Shall I heare more, or shall I speake to this? 75
Iul: Tis but thy name that is mine enemie.
Whats Mountague? It is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme, nor face, nor any other part.
Whats in a name? That which we call a Rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet: 80
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cald,
Retaine the diuine perfection he owes:
Without that title Romeo part thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee,
Take all I haue. 85
Whats Mountague? It is nor hand nor foote,
Nor arme, nor face, nor any other part.
Whats in a name? That which we call a Rose,
By any other name would smell as sweet: 80
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo cald,
Retaine the diuine perfection he owes:
Without that title Romeo part thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee,
Take all I haue. 85
Rom: I take thee at thy word,
Call me but loue, and il'e be new Baptisde,
Henceforth I neuer will be Romeo.
Call me but loue, and il'e be new Baptisde,
Henceforth I neuer will be Romeo.
Iu: What man art thou, that thus beskrind in night,
Doest stumble on my counsaile? 90
Doest stumble on my counsaile? 90
Ro: By a name I know not how to tell thee.
My name deare Saint is hatefull to my selfe,
Because it is an enemie to thee.
Had I it written I would teare the word.
My name deare Saint is hatefull to my selfe,
Because it is an enemie to thee.
Had I it written I would teare the word.
Iul: My eares haue not yet drunk a hundred words 95
Of that tongues vtterance, yet I know the sound:
Art thou not Romeo and a Mountague?
Of that tongues vtterance, yet I know the sound:
Art thou not Romeo and a Mountague?
Ro: Neyther faire Saint, if eyther thee displease.
Iu: How camst thou hether, tell me and wherfore?
The Orchard walles are high and hard to clime, 100
And the place death considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen finde thee here.
The Orchard walles are high and hard to clime, 100
And the place death considering who thou art,
If any of my kinsmen finde thee here.
Ro: By loues light winges did I oreperch these wals,
For stonie limits cannot hold loue out,
And what loue can doo, that dares loue attempt, 105
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
For stonie limits cannot hold loue out,
And what loue can doo, that dares loue attempt, 105
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
Iul: If they doe finde thee they will murder thee.
Ro: Alas there lies more perrill in thine eyes,
Then twentie of their swords, looke thou but sweete,
And I am proofe against their enmitie. 110
Then twentie of their swords, looke thou but sweete,
And I am proofe against their enmitie. 110
Iul: I would not for the world they shuld find thee here.
Ro: I haue nights cloak to hide thee from their sight,
And but thou loue me let them finde me here:
For life were better ended by their hate,
Than death proroged wanting of thy loue. 115
And but thou loue me let them finde me here:
For life were better ended by their hate,
Than death proroged wanting of thy loue. 115
Ro: By loue, who first did prompt me to enquire,
I he gaue me counsaile and I lent him eyes.
I am no Pilot: yet wert thou as farre
As that vast shore, washt with the furthest sea, 120
I would aduenture for such Marchandise.
I he gaue me counsaile and I lent him eyes.
I am no Pilot: yet wert thou as farre
As that vast shore, washt with the furthest sea, 120
I would aduenture for such Marchandise.
Iul: Thou knowst the maske of night is on my face,
Els would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeks:
For that which thou haste heard me speake to night,
Faine would I dwell on forme, faine faine denie, 125
What I haue spoke: but farewell complements.
Doest thou loue me? Nay I know thou wilt say I,
And I will take thy word: but if thou swearst,
Thou maiest proue false:
At Louers periuries they say Ioue smiles. 130
Ah gentle Romeo, if thou loue pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinke I am too easely wonne,
Il'e frowne and say thee nay and be peruerse,
So thou wilt wooe: but els not for the world,
In truth faire Mountague, I am too fond, 135
And therefore thou maiest thinke my hauiour light:
But trust me gentleman Ile proue more true,
Than they that haue more cunning to be strange.
I should haue bin strange I must confesse,
But that thou ouer-heardst ere I was ware 140
My true loues Passion: therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yeelding to light loue,
Which the darke night hath so discouered.
Els would a Maiden blush bepaint my cheeks:
For that which thou haste heard me speake to night,
Faine would I dwell on forme, faine faine denie, 125
What I haue spoke: but farewell complements.
Doest thou loue me? Nay I know thou wilt say I,
And I will take thy word: but if thou swearst,
Thou maiest proue false:
At Louers periuries they say Ioue smiles. 130
Ah gentle Romeo, if thou loue pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou thinke I am too easely wonne,
Il'e frowne and say thee nay and be peruerse,
So thou wilt wooe: but els not for the world,
In truth faire Mountague, I am too fond, 135
And therefore thou maiest thinke my hauiour light:
But trust me gentleman Ile proue more true,
Than they that haue more cunning to be strange.
I should haue bin strange I must confesse,
But that thou ouer-heardst ere I was ware 140
My true loues Passion: therefore pardon me,
And not impute this yeelding to light loue,
Which the darke night hath so discouered.
Ro: By yonder blessed Moone I sweare,
That tips with siluer all these fruit trees tops. 145
That tips with siluer all these fruit trees tops. 145
Iul: O sweare not by the Moone the vnconstant Moone,
That monthlie changeth in her circled orbe,
Least that thy loue proue likewise variable.
That monthlie changeth in her circled orbe,
Least that thy loue proue likewise variable.
Ro: Now by
Iul: Nay doo not sweare at all, 150
Or if thou sweare, sweare by thy glorious selfe,
Which art the God of my Idolatrie,
And il'e beleeue thee.
Or if thou sweare, sweare by thy glorious selfe,
Which art the God of my Idolatrie,
And il'e beleeue thee.
Ro: If my true harts loue
Iul: Sweare not at al, though I doo ioy in thee, 155
I haue small ioy in this contract to night,
It is too rash, too sodaine, too vnaduisde,
Too like the lightning that doth cease to bee
Ere one can say it lightens. I heare some comming,
Deare loue adew, sweet Mountague be true, 160
Stay but a little and il'e come againe.
I haue small ioy in this contract to night,
It is too rash, too sodaine, too vnaduisde,
Too like the lightning that doth cease to bee
Ere one can say it lightens. I heare some comming,
Deare loue adew, sweet Mountague be true, 160
Stay but a little and il'e come againe.
Ro: O blessed blessed night, I feare being night,
All this is but a dreame I heare and see,
Too flattering true to be substantiall.
All this is but a dreame I heare and see,
Too flattering true to be substantiall.
Iul: Three wordes good Romeo and good night indeed. 165
If that thy bent of loue be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to morrow
By one that il'e procure to come to thee:
Where and what time thou wilt performe that right,
And al my fortunes at thy foote il'e lay, 170
And follow thee my Lord through out the world.
If that thy bent of loue be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to morrow
By one that il'e procure to come to thee:
Where and what time thou wilt performe that right,
And al my fortunes at thy foote il'e lay, 170
And follow thee my Lord through out the world.
Ro: Loue goes toward loue like schoole boyes from their bookes,
But loue from loue, to schoole with heauie lookes.
But loue from loue, to schoole with heauie lookes.
Iul: Romeo, Romeo, O for a falkners voice,
To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe: 175
Bondage is hoarse and may not crie aloud,
Els would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies
And make her airie voice as hoarse as mine,
With repetition of my Romeos name.
Romeo? 180
To lure this Tassell gentle backe againe: 175
Bondage is hoarse and may not crie aloud,
Els would I teare the Caue where Eccho lies
And make her airie voice as hoarse as mine,
With repetition of my Romeos name.
Romeo? 180
Ro: It is my soule that calles vpon my name,
How siluer sweet sound louers tongues in night.
How siluer sweet sound louers tongues in night.
Iul: Romeo?
Ro: Madame.
Iul: At what a clocke to morrow shall I send? 185
Ro: At the houre of nine.
Iul: I will not faile, tis twentie yeares till then.
Romeo I haue forgot why I did call thee backe.
Romeo I haue forgot why I did call thee backe.
Rom: Let me stay here till you remember it.
Iul: I shall forget to haue thee still staie here, 190
Remembring how I loue thy companie.
Remembring how I loue thy companie.
Rom: And il'e stay still to haue thee still forget,
Forgetting any other home but this.
Forgetting any other home but this.
Iu: Tis almost morning I would haue thee gone,
But yet no further then a wantons bird, 195
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a pore prisoner in his twisted giues,
And with a silke thred puls it backe againe,
Too louing iealous of his libertie.
But yet no further then a wantons bird, 195
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a pore prisoner in his twisted giues,
And with a silke thred puls it backe againe,
Too louing iealous of his libertie.
Ro: Would I were thy bird. 200
Iul: Sweet so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cherrishing thee.
Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Yet I should kill thee with much cherrishing thee.
Good night, good night, parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
[Sc. VII.]
Enter Frier Francis.
Frier: The gray ey'd morne smiles on the frowning night,
Checkring the Easterne clouds with streakes of light,
And flecked darkenes like a drunkard reeles,
From forth daies path, and Titans fierie wheeles:
Now ere the Sunne aduance his burning eye, 5
The world to cheare, and nights darke dew to drie.
We must vp fill this oasier Cage of ours,
With balefull weeds, and precious iuyced flowers.
Oh mickle is the powerfull grace that lies
In hearbes, plants, stones, and their true qualities: 10
For nought so vile, that vile on earth doth liue,
But to the earth some speciall good doth giue:
Nor nought so good, but straind from that faire use,
Reuolts to vice and stumbles on abuse:
Vertue it selfe turnes vice being misapplied, 15
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rinde of this small flower,
Poyson hath residence, and medecine power:
For this being smelt too, with that part cheares ech hart,
Being tasted slaies all sences with the hart. 20
Two such opposed foes incampe them still,
In man as well as herbes, grace and rude will,
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soone the canker death eats vp that plant.
Checkring the Easterne clouds with streakes of light,
And flecked darkenes like a drunkard reeles,
From forth daies path, and Titans fierie wheeles:
Now ere the Sunne aduance his burning eye, 5
The world to cheare, and nights darke dew to drie.
We must vp fill this oasier Cage of ours,
With balefull weeds, and precious iuyced flowers.
Oh mickle is the powerfull grace that lies
In hearbes, plants, stones, and their true qualities: 10
For nought so vile, that vile on earth doth liue,
But to the earth some speciall good doth giue:
Nor nought so good, but straind from that faire use,
Reuolts to vice and stumbles on abuse:
Vertue it selfe turnes vice being misapplied, 15
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rinde of this small flower,
Poyson hath residence, and medecine power:
For this being smelt too, with that part cheares ech hart,
Being tasted slaies all sences with the hart. 20
Two such opposed foes incampe them still,
In man as well as herbes, grace and rude will,
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soone the canker death eats vp that plant.
Rom: Good morrow to my Ghostly Confessor. 25
Fri: Benedicite, what earlie tongue so soone saluteth me?
Yong sonne it argues a distempered head,
So soone to bid good morrow to my bed.
Care keepes his watch in euerie old mans eye,
And where care lodgeth, sleep can neuer lie: 30
But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braines
Doth couch his limmes, there golden sleepe remaines:
Therefore thy earlines doth me assure,
Thou art vprows'd by some distemperature.
Or if not so, then here I hit it right 35
Our Romeo hath not bin a bed to night.
Yong sonne it argues a distempered head,
So soone to bid good morrow to my bed.
Care keepes his watch in euerie old mans eye,
And where care lodgeth, sleep can neuer lie: 30
But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braines
Doth couch his limmes, there golden sleepe remaines:
Therefore thy earlines doth me assure,
Thou art vprows'd by some distemperature.
Or if not so, then here I hit it right 35
Our Romeo hath not bin a bed to night.
Ro: The last was true, the sweeter rest was mine.
Fr: God pardon sin, wert thou with Rosaline?
Ro: With Rosaline my Ghostly father no,
I haue forgot that name, and that names woe. 40
I haue forgot that name, and that names woe. 40
Fri: Thats my good sonne: but where hast thou bin then?
Ro: I tell thee ere thou aske it me againe,
I haue bin feasting with mine enemie:
Where on the sodaine one hath wounded mee
Thats by me wounded, both our remedies
With in thy help and holy phisicke lies,
I beare no hatred blessed man: for loe
My intercession likewise steades my foe.
I haue bin feasting with mine enemie:
Where on the sodaine one hath wounded mee
Thats by me wounded, both our remedies
With in thy help and holy phisicke lies,
I beare no hatred blessed man: for loe
My intercession likewise steades my foe.
Frier: Be plaine my sonne and homely in thy drift,
Ridling confession findes but ridling shrift. 50
Ridling confession findes but ridling shrift. 50
Rom: Then plainely know my harts deare loue is set
On the faire daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers likewise on mine,
And all combind, saue what thou must combine
By holy marriage: where, and when, and how, 55
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vowes,
Il'e tell thee as I passe: But this I pray,
That thou consent to marrie vs to day.
On the faire daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers likewise on mine,
And all combind, saue what thou must combine
By holy marriage: where, and when, and how, 55
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vowes,
Il'e tell thee as I passe: But this I pray,
That thou consent to marrie vs to day.
Fri: Holy S. Francis, what a change is here?
Is Rosaline whome thou didst loue so deare 60
So soone forsooke, lo yong mens loue then lies
Not truelie in their harts, but in their eyes.
Iesu Maria, what a deale of brine
Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline?
How much salt water cast away in waste, 65
To season loue, that of loue doth not taste.
The sunne not yet thy sighes from heauen cleares,
Thy old grones ring yet in my ancient eares,
And loe vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit,
Of an old teare that is not washt off yet. 70
If euer thou wert thus, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline,
And art thou changde, pronounce this sentence then
Women may fal, when ther's no strength in men.
Is Rosaline whome thou didst loue so deare 60
So soone forsooke, lo yong mens loue then lies
Not truelie in their harts, but in their eyes.
Iesu Maria, what a deale of brine
Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline?
How much salt water cast away in waste, 65
To season loue, that of loue doth not taste.
The sunne not yet thy sighes from heauen cleares,
Thy old grones ring yet in my ancient eares,
And loe vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit,
Of an old teare that is not washt off yet. 70
If euer thou wert thus, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline,
And art thou changde, pronounce this sentence then
Women may fal, when ther's no strength in men.
Rom: Thou chidst me oft for louing Rosaline. 75
Fr: For doating, not for louing, pupill mine.
Rom: And badst me burie loue.
Fr: Not in a graue,
To lay one in another out to haue.
To lay one in another out to haue.
Rom: I pree thee chide not, she whom I loue now 80
Doth grace for grace, and loue for loue allow:
The other did not so.
Doth grace for grace, and loue for loue allow:
The other did not so.
Fr: Oh she knew well
Thy loue did read by rote, and could not spell.
But come young Wauerer, come goe with mee, 85
In one respect Ile thy assistant bee:
For this alliaunce may so happie proue,
To turne your Housholds rancour to pure loue. Exeunt.
Thy loue did read by rote, and could not spell.
But come young Wauerer, come goe with mee, 85
In one respect Ile thy assistant bee:
For this alliaunce may so happie proue,
To turne your Housholds rancour to pure loue. Exeunt.
[Sc. VIII.]
Enter Mercutio, Benuolio.