SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.
Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch
PARIS
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 aloneHere in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
Retires
PARIS
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 keepNightly 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,To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.
Retires
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c
ROMEO
Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.Hold, take this letter; early in the morningSee 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 fingerA precious ring, a ring that I must useIn dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:But if thou, jealous, dost return to pryIn what I further shall intend to do,By heaven, I will tear thee joint by jointAnd strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:The time and my intents are savage-wild,More fierce and more inexorable farThan empty tigers or the roaring sea.
BALTHASAR
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
ROMEO
So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.
BALTHASAR
[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
Retires
ROMEO
Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Opens the tomb
PARIS
This is that banish'd haughty Montague,That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,It is supposed, the fair creature died;And here is come to do some villanous shameTo the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Comes forward
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!Can vengeance be pursued further than death?Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
ROMEO
I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,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 bade thee run away.
PARIS
I do defy thy conjurations,And apprehend thee for a felon here.
ROMEO
Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!
They fight
PAGE
O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
Exit
PARIS
O, I am slain!
Falls
If thou be merciful,Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Dies
ROMEO
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!What said my man, when my betossed soulDid not attend him as we rode? I thinkHe 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,To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makesThis vault a feasting presence full of light.Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
Laying PARIS in the tomb
How oft when men are at the point of deathHave they been merry! which their keepers callA lightning before death: O, how may ICall this a lightning? O my love! my wife!Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death's pale flag is not advanced there.Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?O, what more favour can I do to thee,Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twainTo sunder his that was thine enemy?Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believeThat unsubstantial death is amorous,And that the lean abhorred monster keepsThee here in dark to be his paramour?For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;And never from this palace of dim nightDepart again: here, here will I remainWith worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, hereWill I set up my everlasting rest,And shake the yoke of inauspicious starsFrom this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O youThe doors of breath, seal with a righteous kissA dateless bargain to engrossing death!Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!Thou desperate pilot, now at once run onThe dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!Here's to my love!
Drinks
O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
Dies
Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade
FRIAR LAURENCE
Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-nightHave my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
BALTHASAR
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,What torch is yond, that vainly lends his lightTo grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,It burneth in the Capel's monument.
BALTHASAR
It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,One that you love.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who is it?
BALTHASAR
Romeo.
FRIAR LAURENCE
How long hath he been there?
BALTHASAR
Full half an hour.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Go with me to the vault.
BALTHASAR
I dare not, sirMy master knows not but I am gone hence;And fearfully did menace me with death,If I did stay to look on his intents.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
BALTHASAR
As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,I dreamt my master and another fought,And that my master slew him.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo!
Advances
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stainsThe stony entrance of this sepulchre?What mean these masterless and gory swordsTo 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 hourIs guilty of this lamentable chance!The lady stirs.
JULIET wakes
JULIET
O comfortable friar! where is my lord?I do remember well where I should be,And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
Noise within
FRIAR LAURENCE
I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nestOf death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:A greater power than we can contradictHath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of theeAmong a sisterhood of holy nuns:Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;Come, go, good Juliet,
Noise again
I dare no longer stay.
JULIET
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
Exit FRIAR LAURENCE
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 dropTo help me after? I will kiss thy lips;Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,To make die with a restorative.
Kisses him
Thy lips are warm.
First Watchman
[Within] Lead, boy: which way?
JULIET
Yea, noise? then I'll 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, with the Page of PARIS
PAGE
This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
First Watchman
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 these two days buried.Go, tell the prince: run to the 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 woesWe cannot without circumstance descry.
Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR
Second Watchman
Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
First Watchman
Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE
Third Watchman
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 side.
First Watchman
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's rest?
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others
CAPULET
What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
LADY CAPULET
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 Watchman
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 Watchman
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;With instruments upon them, fit to openThese dead men's tombs.
CAPULET
O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his houseIs empty on the back of Montague,--And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
LADY CAPULET
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.
MONTAGUE
Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:What further woe conspires against mine age?
PRINCE
Look, and thou shalt see.
MONTAGUE
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, theirtrue 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.Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I am the greatest, able to do least,Yet most suspected, as the time and placeDoth make against me of this direful murder;And here I stand, both to impeach and purgeMyself condemned and myself excused.
PRINCE
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I will be brief, for my short date of breathIs not so long as is a tedious tale.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-dayWas Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely deathBanish'd the new-made bridegroom from the 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 perforceTo County Paris: then comes she to me,And, with wild looks, bid me devise some meanTo rid her from this second marriage,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 effectAs I intended, for it wrought on herThe 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,Was stay'd by accident, and yesternightReturn'd my letter back. Then all aloneAt 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 timeOf her awaking, here untimely layThe noble Paris and true Romeo dead.She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,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 marriageHer nurse is privy: and, if aught in thisMiscarried by my fault, let my old lifeBe sacrificed, some hour before his time,Unto the rigour of severest law.
PRINCE
We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
BALTHASAR
I brought my master news of Juliet's death;And then in post he came from MantuaTo this same place, to this same monument.This letter he early bid me give his father,And threatened me with death, going in the vault,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?
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 poisonOf a poor 'pothecary, and therewithalCame to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.And I for winking at your discords tooHave lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.
CAPULET
O brother Montague, give me thy hand:This is my daughter's jointure, for no moreCan I demand.
MONTAGUE
But I can give thee more:For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.
CAPULET
As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
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 woeThan this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Exeunt
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
5:2
SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.
Enter FRIAR JOHN
FRIAR JOHN
Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE
FRIAR LAURENCE
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.
FRIAR JOHN
Going to find a bare-foot brother outOne 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 houseWhere the infectious pestilence did reign,Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
FRIAR JOHN
I could not send it,--here it is again,--Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,So fearful were they of infection.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,The letter was not nice but full of chargeOf dear import, and the neglecting itMay do much danger. Friar John, go hence;Get me an iron crow, and bring it straightUnto my cell.
FRIAR JOHN
Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Exit
FRIAR LAURENCE
Now must I to the monument alone;Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:She will beshrew me much that RomeoHath 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!
Exit
Enter FRIAR JOHN
FRIAR JOHN
Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE
FRIAR LAURENCE
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.
FRIAR JOHN
Going to find a bare-foot brother outOne 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 houseWhere the infectious pestilence did reign,Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
FRIAR JOHN
I could not send it,--here it is again,--Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,So fearful were they of infection.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,The letter was not nice but full of chargeOf dear import, and the neglecting itMay do much danger. Friar John, go hence;Get me an iron crow, and bring it straightUnto my cell.
FRIAR JOHN
Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Exit
FRIAR LAURENCE
Now must I to the monument alone;Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:She will beshrew me much that RomeoHath 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!
Exit
5:1
ACT V
SCENE I. Mantua. A street.
Enter ROMEO
ROMEO
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;And all this day an unaccustom'd spiritLifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--Strange dream, that gives a dead man leaveto 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,When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR, booted
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.
BALTHASAR
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,And her immortal part with angels lives.I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,And presently took post to tell it you:O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
ROMEO
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
BALTHASAR
I do beseech you, sir, have patience:Your looks are pale and wild, and do importSome misadventure.
ROMEO
Tush, thou art deceived:Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
BALTHASAR
No, my good lord.
ROMEO
No matter: get thee gone,And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
Exit BALTHASAR
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swiftTo enter in the thoughts of desperate men!I do remember an apothecary,--And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I notedIn tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,An alligator stuff'd, and other skinsOf ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelvesA beggarly account of empty boxes,Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.Noting this penury, to myself I said'An if a man did need a poison now,Whose sale is present death in Mantua,Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'O, this same thought did but 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
Apothecary
Who calls so loud?
ROMEO
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:Hold, there is forty ducats: let me haveA dram of poison, such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veinsThat the life-weary taker may fall deadAnd that the trunk may be discharged of breathAs violently as hasty powder firedDoth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Apothecary
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's lawIs death to any he that utters them.
ROMEO
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,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.
Apothecary
My poverty, but not my will, consents.
ROMEO
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary
Put this in any liquid thing you will,And drink it off; and, if you had the strengthOf twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
ROMEO
There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,Doing more murders 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 meTo Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
Exeunt
SCENE I. Mantua. A street.
Enter ROMEO
ROMEO
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;And all this day an unaccustom'd spiritLifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--Strange dream, that gives a dead man leaveto 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,When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR, booted
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.
BALTHASAR
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,And her immortal part with angels lives.I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,And presently took post to tell it you:O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
ROMEO
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
BALTHASAR
I do beseech you, sir, have patience:Your looks are pale and wild, and do importSome misadventure.
ROMEO
Tush, thou art deceived:Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
BALTHASAR
No, my good lord.
ROMEO
No matter: get thee gone,And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
Exit BALTHASAR
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swiftTo enter in the thoughts of desperate men!I do remember an apothecary,--And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I notedIn tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,An alligator stuff'd, and other skinsOf ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelvesA beggarly account of empty boxes,Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.Noting this penury, to myself I said'An if a man did need a poison now,Whose sale is present death in Mantua,Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'O, this same thought did but 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
Apothecary
Who calls so loud?
ROMEO
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:Hold, there is forty ducats: let me haveA dram of poison, such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veinsThat the life-weary taker may fall deadAnd that the trunk may be discharged of breathAs violently as hasty powder firedDoth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Apothecary
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's lawIs death to any he that utters them.
ROMEO
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,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.
Apothecary
My poverty, but not my will, consents.
ROMEO
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary
Put this in any liquid thing you will,And drink it off; and, if you had the strengthOf twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
ROMEO
There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,Doing more murders 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 meTo Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
Exeunt
4:5
SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.
Enter Nurse
Nurse
Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she:Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!What, not a word? you take your 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!I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!Ay, let the county take you in your bed;He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
Undraws the curtains
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!Alas, alas! 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 CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What noise is here?
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
What is the matter?
Nurse
Look, look! O heavy day!
LADY CAPULET
O me, O me! My child, my only life,Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!Help, help! Call help.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
Nurse
She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
LADY CAPULET
Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
CAPULET
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 frostUpon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
O woful time!
CAPULET
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
FRIAR LAURENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.O son! the night before thy wedding-dayHath Death lain with thy wife. 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.
PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,And doth it give me such a sight as this?
LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!Most miserable hour that e'er time sawIn 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! O woful, woful, woful day!Most lamentable day, most woful day,That ever, ever, I did yet behold!O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!Never was seen so black a day as this:O woful day, O woful day!
PARIS
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
CAPULET
Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!Uncomfortable time, why camest thou nowTo 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.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives notIn these confusions. Heaven and yourselfHad part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,And all the better is it for the maid:Your part in her you could not keep from death,But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.The most you sought was her promotion;For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:And weep ye now, seeing she is advancedAbove 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 rosemaryOn this fair corse; and, as the custom is,In all her best array bear her to church:For though fond nature bids us an lament,Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
CAPULET
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.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;And go, Sir Paris; every one prepareTo 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 LAURENCE
First Musician
Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Nurse
Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
Exit
First Musician
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Enter PETER
PETER
Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart'sease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
First Musician
Why 'Heart's ease?'
PETER
O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'Myheart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,to comfort me.
First Musician
Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
PETER
You will not, then?
First Musician
No.
PETER
I will then give it you soundly.
First Musician
What will you give us?
PETER
No money, on my faith, but the gleek;I will give you the minstrel.
First Musician
Then I will give you the serving-creature.
PETER
Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger onyour pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,I'll fa you; do you note me?
First Musician
An you re us and fa us, you note us.
Second Musician
Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
PETER
Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat youwith an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answerme 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 silversound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
Musician
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
PETER
Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
Second Musician
I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
PETER
Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
Third Musician
Faith, I know not what to say.
PETER
O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will sayfor you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'because musicians have no gold for sounding:'Then music with her silver soundWith speedy help doth lend redress.'
Exit
First Musician
What a pestilent knave is this same!
Second Musician
Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for themourners, and stay dinner.
Exeunt
Enter Nurse
Nurse
Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she:Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!What, not a word? you take your 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!I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!Ay, let the county take you in your bed;He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
Undraws the curtains
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!Alas, alas! 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 CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What noise is here?
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
What is the matter?
Nurse
Look, look! O heavy day!
LADY CAPULET
O me, O me! My child, my only life,Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!Help, help! Call help.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
Nurse
She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
LADY CAPULET
Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
CAPULET
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 frostUpon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
O woful time!
CAPULET
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
FRIAR LAURENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.O son! the night before thy wedding-dayHath Death lain with thy wife. 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.
PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,And doth it give me such a sight as this?
LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!Most miserable hour that e'er time sawIn 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! O woful, woful, woful day!Most lamentable day, most woful day,That ever, ever, I did yet behold!O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!Never was seen so black a day as this:O woful day, O woful day!
PARIS
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
CAPULET
Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!Uncomfortable time, why camest thou nowTo 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.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives notIn these confusions. Heaven and yourselfHad part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,And all the better is it for the maid:Your part in her you could not keep from death,But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.The most you sought was her promotion;For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:And weep ye now, seeing she is advancedAbove 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 rosemaryOn this fair corse; and, as the custom is,In all her best array bear her to church:For though fond nature bids us an lament,Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
CAPULET
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.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;And go, Sir Paris; every one prepareTo 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 LAURENCE
First Musician
Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Nurse
Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
Exit
First Musician
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Enter PETER
PETER
Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart'sease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
First Musician
Why 'Heart's ease?'
PETER
O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'Myheart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,to comfort me.
First Musician
Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
PETER
You will not, then?
First Musician
No.
PETER
I will then give it you soundly.
First Musician
What will you give us?
PETER
No money, on my faith, but the gleek;I will give you the minstrel.
First Musician
Then I will give you the serving-creature.
PETER
Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger onyour pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,I'll fa you; do you note me?
First Musician
An you re us and fa us, you note us.
Second Musician
Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
PETER
Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat youwith an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answerme 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 silversound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
Musician
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
PETER
Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
Second Musician
I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
PETER
Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
Third Musician
Faith, I know not what to say.
PETER
O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will sayfor you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'because musicians have no gold for sounding:'Then music with her silver soundWith speedy help doth lend redress.'
Exit
First Musician
What a pestilent knave is this same!
Second Musician
Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for themourners, and stay dinner.
Exeunt
4:4
SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
Nurse
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
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 the cost.
Nurse
Go, you cot-quean, go,Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrowFor this night's watching.
CAPULET
No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere nowAll night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
LADY CAPULET
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;But I will watch you from such watching now.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
CAPULET
A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets
Now, fellow,What's there?
First Servant
Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
CAPULET
Make haste, make haste.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, fetch drier logs:Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
Second Servant
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Exit
CAPULET
Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:The county will be here with music straight,For so he said he would: I hear him near.
Music within
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
Re-enter Nurse
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:Make haste, I say.
Exeunt
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
Nurse
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
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 the cost.
Nurse
Go, you cot-quean, go,Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrowFor this night's watching.
CAPULET
No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere nowAll night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
LADY CAPULET
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;But I will watch you from such watching now.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
CAPULET
A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets
Now, fellow,What's there?
First Servant
Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
CAPULET
Make haste, make haste.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, fetch drier logs:Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
Second Servant
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Exit
CAPULET
Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:The county will be here with music straight,For so he said he would: I hear him near.
Music within
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
Re-enter Nurse
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:Make haste, I say.
Exeunt
4:3
SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.
Enter JULIET and Nurse
JULIET
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night,For I have need of many orisonsTo move the heavens to smile upon my state,Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
Enter LADY CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
JULIET
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessariesAs are behoveful for our state to-morrow:So please you, let me now be left alone,And let the nurse this night sit up with you;For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,In this so sudden business.
LADY CAPULET
Good night:Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
JULIET
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'll call them back again to comfort me:Nurse! What should she do here?My dismal scene I needs must act alone.Come, vial.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 her dagger
What if it be a poison, which the friarSubtly 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,I wake before the time that RomeoCome to redeem me? there's a fearful point!Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?Or, if I live, is it not very like,The horrible conceit of death and night,Together with the terror of the place,--As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,Where, for these many hundred years, the bonesOf all my buried ancestors are packed: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?And madly play with my forefather's 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 ghostSeeking out Romeo, that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
She falls upon her bed, within the curtains
Enter JULIET and Nurse
JULIET
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night,For I have need of many orisonsTo move the heavens to smile upon my state,Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
Enter LADY CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
JULIET
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessariesAs are behoveful for our state to-morrow:So please you, let me now be left alone,And let the nurse this night sit up with you;For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,In this so sudden business.
LADY CAPULET
Good night:Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
JULIET
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'll call them back again to comfort me:Nurse! What should she do here?My dismal scene I needs must act alone.Come, vial.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 her dagger
What if it be a poison, which the friarSubtly 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,I wake before the time that RomeoCome to redeem me? there's a fearful point!Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?Or, if I live, is it not very like,The horrible conceit of death and night,Together with the terror of the place,--As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,Where, for these many hundred years, the bonesOf all my buried ancestors are packed: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?And madly play with my forefather's 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 ghostSeeking out Romeo, that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
She falls upon her bed, within the curtains
4:2
SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen
CAPULET
So many guests invite as here are writ.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
Second Servant
You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if theycan lick their fingers.
CAPULET
How canst thou try them so?
Second Servant
Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick hisown fingers: therefore he that cannot lick hisfingers goes not with me.
CAPULET
Go, be gone.
Exit Second Servant
We shall be much unfurnished for this time.What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse
Ay, forsooth.
CAPULET
Well, he may chance to do some good on her:A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Nurse
See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Enter JULIET
CAPULET
How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
JULIET
Where I have learn'd me to repent the sinOf disobedient oppositionTo you and your behests, and am enjoin'dBy holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
CAPULET
Send for the county; go tell him of this:I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
JULIET
I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;And gave him what becomed love I might,Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
CAPULET
Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:This is as't should be. Let me see the county;Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,Our whole city is much bound to him.
JULIET
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,To help me sort such needful ornamentsAs you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
LADY CAPULET
No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
CAPULET
Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
Exeunt JULIET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
We shall be short in our provision:'Tis now near night.
CAPULET
Tush, I will stir about,And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!They are all forth. Well, I will walk myselfTo County Paris, to prepare him upAgainst to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
Exeunt
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen
CAPULET
So many guests invite as here are writ.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
Second Servant
You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if theycan lick their fingers.
CAPULET
How canst thou try them so?
Second Servant
Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick hisown fingers: therefore he that cannot lick hisfingers goes not with me.
CAPULET
Go, be gone.
Exit Second Servant
We shall be much unfurnished for this time.What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse
Ay, forsooth.
CAPULET
Well, he may chance to do some good on her:A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
Nurse
See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Enter JULIET
CAPULET
How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
JULIET
Where I have learn'd me to repent the sinOf disobedient oppositionTo you and your behests, and am enjoin'dBy holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
CAPULET
Send for the county; go tell him of this:I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
JULIET
I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;And gave him what becomed love I might,Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
CAPULET
Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:This is as't should be. Let me see the county;Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,Our whole city is much bound to him.
JULIET
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,To help me sort such needful ornamentsAs you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
LADY CAPULET
No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
CAPULET
Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
Exeunt JULIET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
We shall be short in our provision:'Tis now near night.
CAPULET
Tush, I will stir about,And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!They are all forth. Well, I will walk myselfTo County Paris, to prepare him upAgainst to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
Exeunt
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