Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Roger Apfelbaum
Peer Reviewed

Romeo and Juliet (Quarto 2, 1599)


Enter Sampson and Gregorie, with Swords and Bucklers, of the
house of Capulet.
Samp. Gregorie, on my word weele not carrie Coles.
Greg. No, for then we should beCollyers.
Samp. I meane, and we be in choller, weele draw.
Greg. I while you liue, draw your necke out of choller.
10Samp. I strike quickly being moued.
Greg. But thou art not quickly moued to strike.
Samp. A dog of the house of Mountague moues me.
Grego. To moue is to stirre, and to be valiant, is to stand:
Therefore if thou art moued thou runst away.
15Samp. A dog of that houseshall moue me to stand:
I will take the wall of any man or maide of Mounta-
16.1gues.
Grego. That shewes thee a weake slaue, for the weakest goes
to the wall.
Samp. Tis true, & therfore women being the weaker vessels
20are euer thrust to the wall: therfore I wil push Mountagues men
from the wall, and thrust his maides to the wall.
Greg. The quarell is betweene our maisters, and vs their
23.1men.
Samp. Tis all one, I will shew my selfe a tyrant, when I haue
25fought with the men, I will be ciuil with the maides, I will cut
off their heads.
Grego. The heads of the maids.
Samp. I the heads of the maides, or their maiden heads, take it
in what sense thou wilt.
30Greg. They must take it sense that feele it.
Samp. Me they shall feele while I am able to stand, and tis
knowne I am a pretie peece of flesh.
Greg. Tis well thou art not fish, if thou hadst, thou hadst bin
poore Iohn: draw thy toole, here comes of the house of Moun-
35tagues.
Enter two other seruing men.
Samp. My naked weapon is out, quarell, I will back thee.
Greg. How, turne thy backe and runne?
Samp. Feare me not.
40 Greg. No marrie, I feare thee.
Sam. Let vs take the law of our sides, let them begin.
Gre. I will frown as I passe by, and let them take it as they list.
Samp. Nay as they dare, I wil bite my thumb at them, which
is disgrace to them if they beare it.
45Abram. Do you bite your thumbe at vs sir?
Samp. I do bite my thumbe sir.
Abra. Do you bite your thumb at vs sir?
Samp. Is the law of our side if I say I?
48.1 Greg. No.
Samp. No sir, I do not bite my thumbe at you sir, but I bite
50my thumbe sir.
Greg. Do you quarell sir?
Abra. Quarell sir, no sir.
. But if you do sir, I am for you, I serue as good a asyou.
Abra. No better.
55Samp. Well sir.Enter Benuolio.
Greg. Say better, here comes one of my maisters kinsmen.
Sam. Yes better sir.
Abra. You lie.
Samp. Draw if you be men, Gregorie, remember thy washing
60blowe.
They fight.
Benuo. Part fooles, put vp your swords, you know not what
you do.
Enter Tibalt.
Tibalt. What art thou drawne among these hartlesse hindes?
65turne thee Benuolio, looke vpon thy death.
Benuo. I do but keepe the peace, put vp thy sword,
or manage it to part these men with me.
Tib. What drawne and talke of peace? I hate the word,
as I hate hell, all Mountagues and thee:
70Haue at thee coward.
Enter three of foure Citizens with Clubs or partysons.
Offi. Clubs, Bils and Partisons, strike, beate them downe,
Downe with the Capulets, downe with the Mountagues.
Enter old Capulet in his gowne, and his wife.
75Capu. What noyse is this? giue me my long sword hoe.
Wife. A crowch, a crowch, why call you for a sword?
Cap. My sword I say, old Mountague is come,
And florishes his blade in spight of me.
Enter old Mountague and his wife.
80Mount. Thou villaine Capulet, hold me not, let me go.
M. Wife. 2. Thou shalt not stir one foote to seeke a foe.
Enter Prince Eskales, with his traine.
Prince. Rebellious subiects enemies to peace,
Prophaners of this neighbour-stayned steele,
85Will they not heare? what ho, you men, you beasts:
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage,
With purple fountaines issuing from your veines:
On paine of torture from those bloudie hands,
Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground,
90And heare the sentence of your moued Prince.
Three ciuill brawles bred of an ayrie word,
By thee old Capulet and Mountague,
Haue thrice disturbd the quiet of our streets,
And made Neronas auncient Citizens,
95Cast by their graue beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Cancred with peace, to part your cancred hate,
If euer you disturbe our streets againe,
Your liues shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
100For this time all the rest depart away:
You Capulet shall go along with me,
And Mountague come you this afternoone,
To know our farther pleasure in this case:
To old Free-towne, our common iudgement place:
105Once more on paine of death, all men depart.
105.1
Exeunt.
Mounta. Who set this auncient quarell new abroach?
Speake Nephew, were you by when it began?
Ben. Here were the seruants of your aduersarie
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach,
110I drew to part them, in the instant came
The fierie Tybalt, with his sword preparde,
Which as he breath'd defiance to my eares,
He swoong about his head and cut the windes,
Who nothing hurt withall, hist him inscorne:
115While we were enterchaunging thrusts and blowes,
Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
Wife. O where is Romeo, saw you him to day?
Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.
120Benuo. Madam, an houre before the worshipt Sun,
Peerde forth the golden window of the East,
A troubled minde driue me to walke abroad,
Where vnderneath the groue of Syramour,
That Westward rooteth from this Citie side:
125So early walking did I see your sonne,
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me,
And stole into the couert of the wood,
I measuring his affections by my owne,
Which then most sought, where most might not be
130Being one too many by my wearie selfe,
Pursued my humor, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunned, who gladly fled from me.
Mounta. Many a morning hath he there bin seene,
With teares augmenting the fresh mornings deawe,
135Adding to cloudes, more clowdes with his deepe sighes,
But all so soone, as the alcheering Sunne,
Should in the farthest East begin to draw,
The shadie curtaines from Auroras bed,
Away from light steales home my heauie sonne,
140And priuate in his Chamber pennes himselfe,
Shuts vp his windowes, locks faire day-light out,
And makes himselfe an artificiall night:
Blacke and portendous must this humor proue,
Vnlesse good counsell may the cause remoue.
145Ben. My Noble Vncle do you know the cause?
Moun. I neither know it, nor can learne of him.
Ben. Haue you importunde him by any meanes?
Moun. Both by my selfe and many other friends,
But he is owne affections counseller,
150Is to himselfe (I will not say how true)
But to himselfe so secret and so close,
So farre from sounding and discouerie,
As is the bud bit with an enuious worme,
Ere he can spread his sweete leaues to the ayre,
155Or dedicate his bewtie to the same.
Could we but learne from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly giue cure as know.
Enter Romeo.
Benu. See where he comes, so please you step aside,
160Ile know his greeuance or be much denide.
Moun. I would thou wert so happie by thy stay,
To heare true shrift, come Madam lets away.
162.1
Exeunt.
Benuol. Good morrow Cousin.
Romeo. Is the day so young?
165Ben. But new strooke nine.
Romeo. Ay me, sad houres seeme long:
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
Ben. It was: what sadnesse lengthens Romeos houres?
Ro. Not hauing that, which hauing, makes thē short.
170Ben. In loue.
Rom. Out.
Ben. Of loue.
Rom. Out of her fauour where I am in love.
Ben. Alas that loue so gentle in his view,
175Should be so tirannous and rough in proofe.
Romeo. Alas that loue, whose view is muffled still,
Should without eyes, see pathwaies to his will:
Where shall we dine? ô me! what fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I haue heard it all:
180Heres much to do with hate, but more with loue:
Why then ô brawling loue, ô louing hate,
O any thing of nothing first created:
O heauie lightnesse, serious vanitie,
Mishapen Chaos of welseeming formes,
185Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fier, sicke health,
Still waking sleepe that is not what it is.
This loue feele I, that feele no loue in this,
Doest thou not laugh?
Benu. No Coze, I rather weepe.
190Rom. Good hart at what?
Benu. At thy good harts oppression.
Romeo. Why such is loues transgression:
Griefes of mine owne lie heauie in my breast,
Which thou wilt propogate to haue it preast,
195With more of thine, this loue that thou hast showne,
Doth ad more griefe, too too much of mine owne.
Loue is a smoke made with the fume of sighes,
Being purgd, a fire sparkling in louers eies,
Being vext, a sea nourisht with louing teares,
200What is it else? a madnesse, most discreete,
A choking gall, and a preseruing sweete:
Farewell my Coze.
Ben. Soft I will go along:
And if you leaue me so, you do me wrong.
205Rom. Tut I haue lost my selfe, I am not here,
This is not Romeo, hees some other where.
Ben. Tell me in sadnesse, who is that you loue?
Ro. What shall I grone and tell thee?
Ben. Grone, why no: but sadly tell me who?
210Ro. A sicke man in sadnesse makes his will:
A word ill vrgd to one that is so ill:
In sadnesse Cozin, I do loue a woman.
Ben. I aymde so neare, when I supposde you lou'd.
Ro. A right good mark man, and shees faire I loue.
215Ben. A right faire marke faire Coze is soonest hit.
Romeo. Well in that hit you misse, sheel not be hit
With Cupids arrow, she hath Dians wit:
And in strong proofe of chastitie well armd,
From loues weak childish bow she liues vncharmd.
220Shee will not stay the siege of louing tearmes,
Nor bide th'incounter of assailing eies.
Nor ope her lap to sainct seducing gold,
O she is rich, in bewtie onely poore,
That when she dies, with bewtie dies her store.
225 Ben. Thē she hath sworn, that she wil stil liue chaste?
Ro. She hath, and in that sparing, make huge waste:
For bewtie steru'd with her seueritie,
Cuts bewtie off from all posteritie.
She is too faire, too wise, wisely too faire,
230To merit blisse by making me dispaire:
Shee hath forsworne to loue, and in that vow,
Do I liue dead, that liue to tell it now.
Ben. Be rulde by me, forget to thinke of her.
Ro. O teach me how I should forget to thinke.
235Ben. By giuing libertie vnto thine eyes,
Examine other bewties.
Ro. Tis the way to call hers (exquisit) in question more,
These happie maskes that kis faire Ladies browes,
Being black, puts vs in mind they hide the faire:
240He that is strooken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-sight lost,
Shew me a mistresse that is passing faire,
What doth her bewtie serue but as a note,
Where I may reade who past that passing faire:
245Farewel, thou canst not teach me to forget,
Ben. Ile pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
Exeunt.