Romeo and Juliet / Ромео и Джульетта

Scene IV

A Street. Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six Maskers; Torch-bearers and others.

Romeo

What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

Or shall we on without apology?

Benvolio

The date is out of such prolixity:

We’ll have no Cupid hoodwink’d with a scarf,

Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,

Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;

Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke

After the prompter, for our entrance:

But let them measure us by what they will,

We’ll measure them a measure, and be gone.

Romeo

Give me a torch, I am not for this ambling;

Being but heavy I will bear the light.

Mercutio

Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

Romeo

Not I, believe me, you have dancing shoes,

With nimble soles, I have a soul of lead

So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

Mercutio

You are a lover, borrow Cupid’s wings,

And soar with them above a common bound.

Romeo

I am too sore enpierced with his shaft

To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,

I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.

Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.

Mercutio

And, to sink in it, should you burden love;

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Romeo

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,

Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.

Mercutio

If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

Give me a case to put my visage in:

A visor for a visor. What care I

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle-brows shall blush for me.

Benvolio

Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in

But every man betake him to his legs.

Romeo

A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,

Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;

For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase,

I’ll be a candle-holder and look on,

The game was ne’er so fair, and I am done.

Mercutio

Tut, dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word:

If thou art dun, we’ll draw thee from the mire

Or save your reverence love, wherein thou stickest

Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho.

Romeo

Nay, that’s not so.

Mercutio

I mean sir, in delay

We waste our lights in vain, light lights by day.

Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

Romeo

And we mean well in going to this mask;

But ’tis no wit to go.

Mercutio

Why, may one ask?

Romeo

I dreamt a dream tonight.

Mercutio

And so did I.

Romeo

Well what was yours?

Mercutio

That dreamers often lie.

Romeo

In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

Mercutio

O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.

She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

On the fore-finger of an alderman,

Drawn with a team of little atomies

Over men’s noses as they lie asleep:

Her waggon-spokes made of long spinners’ legs;

The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;

Her traces, of the smallest spider’s web;

The collars, of the moonshine’s watery beams;

Her whip of cricket’s bone; the lash, of film;

Her waggoner, a small grey-coated gnat,

Not half so big as a round little worm

Prick’d from the lazy finger of a maid:

Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.

And in this state she gallops night by night

Through lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;

O’er courtiers’ knees, that dream on curtsies straight;

O’er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees;

O’er ladies’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,

Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:

Sometime she gallops o’er a courtier’s nose,

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;

And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tail,

Tickling a parson’s nose as a lies asleep,

Then dreams he of another benefice:

Sometime she driveth o’er a soldier’s neck,

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades,

Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon

Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes;

And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

That plats the manes of horses in the night;

And bakes the elf-locks in foul sluttish hairs,

Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes:

This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

That presses them, and learns them first to bear,

Making them women of good carriage:

This is she,-

Romeo

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,

Thou talk’st of nothing.

Mercutio

True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

Which is as thin of substance as the air,

And more inconstant than the wind, who woos

Even now the frozen bosom of the north,

And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence,

Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.

Benvolio

This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves:

Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

Romeo

I fear too early: for my mind misgives

Some consequence yet hanging in the stars,

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night’s revels; and expire the term

Of a despised life, clos’d in my breast

By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

But he that hath the steerage of my course

Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen!

Benvolio

Strike, drum.

Scene V

A Hall in Capulet’s House. Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.

First servant

Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away?

He shift a trencher! He scrape a trencher!

Second servant

When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’s hands, and they unwash’d too, ’tis a foul thing.

First servant

Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony and Potpan!

Second servant

Ay, boy, ready.

First servant

You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber.

Second servant

We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys. Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

Enter Capulet, amp;c. with the Guests

and Gentlewomen to the Maskers.

Capulet

Welcome, gentlemen, ladies that have their toes

Unplagu’d with corns will have a bout with you.

Ah my mistresses, which of you all

Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,

She I’ll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?

Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day

That I have worn a visor, and could tell

A whispering tale in a fair lady’s ear,

Such as would please; ’tis gone, ’tis gone, ’tis gone,

You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play.

A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls.

More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,

And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.

Ah sirrah, this unlook’d-for sport comes well.

Nay sit, nay sit, good cousin Capulet,

For you and I are past our dancing days;

How long is’t now since last yourself and I

Were in a mask?

Capulet’s Cousin

By’r Lady, thirty years.

Capulet

What, man, ’tis not so much, ’tis not so much:

’Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,

Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

Some five and twenty years; and then we mask’d.

Capulet’s Cousin

’Tis more, ’tis more, his son is elder, sir;

His son is thirty.

Capulet

Will you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago.

Romeo

What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?

Servant

I know not, sir.

Romeo

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear;

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows

As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.

The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,

And touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight!

For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.

Tybalt

This by his voice, should be a Montague

Fetch me my rapier, boy. What, dares the slave

Come hither, cover’d with an antic face,

To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?

Now by the stock and honour of my kin,

To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Capulet

Why how now, kinsman!

Wherefore storm you so?

Tybalt

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe;

A villain that is hither come in spite,

To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Capulet

Young Romeo, is it?

Tybalt

’Tis he, that villain Romeo.

Capulet

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,

A bears him like a portly gentleman;

And, to say truth, Verona brags of him

To be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth.

I would not for the wealth of all the town

Here in my house do him disparagement.

Therefore be patient, take no note of him,

It is my will; the which if thou respect,

Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,

An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Tybalt

It fits when such a villain is a guest:

I’ll not endure him.

Capulet

He shall be endur’d.

What, goodman boy! I say he shall, go to;

Am I the master here, or you? Go to.

You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul,

You’ll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will set cock-a-hoop, you’ll be the man!

Tybalt

Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.

Capulet

Go to, go to!

You are a saucy boy. Is’t so, indeed?

This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what.

You must contrary me! Marry, ’tis time.

Well said, my hearts! – You are a princox; go:

Be quiet, or-More light, more light! – For shame!

I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts.

Tybalt

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting

Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.

I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.

Romeo

If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Juliet

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

Romeo

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Romeo

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do:

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.

Romeo

Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg’d.

Juliet

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Romeo

Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg’d!

Give me my sin again.

Juliet

You kiss by the book.

Nurse

Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Romeo

What is her mother?

Nurse

Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house,

And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.

I nurs’d her daughter that you talk’d withal.

I tell you, he that can lay hold of her

Shall have the chinks.

Romeo

Is she a Capulet?

O dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.

Benvolio

Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.

Romeo

Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

Capulet

Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,

We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.

Is it e’en so? Why then, I thank you all;

I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.

More torches here! Come on then, let’s to bed.

Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late,

I’ll to my rest.

Juliet

Come hither, Nurse. What is yond gentleman?

Nurse

The son and heir of old Tiberio.

Juliet

What’s he that now is going out of door?

Nurse

Marry, that I think be young Petruchio.

Juliet

What’s he that follows here, that would not dance?

Nurse

I know not.

Juliet

Go ask his name. If he be married,

My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse

His name is Romeo, and a Montague,

The only son of your great enemy.

Juliet

My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nurse

What’s this? What’s this?

Juliet

A rhyme I learn’d even now

Of one I danc’d withal.

Nurse

Anon, anon!

Come let’s away, the strangers all are gone.

Act II

Enter Chorus.

Chorus

Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir;

That fair for which love groan’d for and would die,

With tender Juliet match’d, is now not fair.

Now Romeo is belov’d, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks;

But to his foe suppos’d he must complain,

And she steal love’s sweet bait from fearful hooks:

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;

And she as much in love, her means much less

To meet her new beloved anywhere.

But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,

Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

Scene I

An open place adjoining Capulet’s Garden. Enter Romeo.

Romeo

Can I go forward when my heart is here?

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

Benvolio

Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!

Mercutio

He is wise,

And on my life hath stol’n him home to bed.

Benvolio

He ran this way, and leap’d this orchard wall:

Call, good Mercutio.

Mercutio

Nay, I’ll conjure too.

Romeo! Humours! Madman! Passion! Lover!

Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh,

Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;

Cry but ‘Ah me!’ Pronounce but Love and dove;

Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

One nickname for her purblind son and heir,

Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim

When King Cophetua lov’d the beggar-maid.

He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;

The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.

I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes,

By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,

By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,

And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Benvolio

An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

Mercutio

This cannot anger him. ’Twould anger him

To raise a spirit in his mistress’ circle,

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

Till she had laid it, and conjur’d it down;

That were some spite. My invocation

Is fair and honest, and, in his mistress’ name,

I conjure only but to raise up him.

Benvolio

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees

To be consorted with the humorous night.

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mercutio

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.

O Romeo, that she were, O that she were

An open-arse and thou a poperin pear!

Romeo, good night. I’ll to my truckle-bed.

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

Come, shall we go?

Benvolio

Go then; for ’tis in vain

To seek him here that means not to be found.

Scene II

Capulet’s Garden. Enter Romeo.

Romeo

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

Juliet appears above at a window.

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!

Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?

Her eye discourses, I will answer it.

I am too bold, ’tis not to me she speaks.

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek.

Juliet

Ay me.

Romeo

She speaks.

O speak again bright angel, for thou art

As glorious to this night, being o’er my head,

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Juliet

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name.

Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

Romeo

Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

Juliet

’Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague

What’s Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O be some other name.

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for thy name, which is no part of thee,

Take all myself.

Romeo

I take thee at thy word.

Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptis’d;

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

Juliet

What man art thou that, thus bescreen’d in night

So stumblest on my counsel?

Romeo

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee.

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

Juliet

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

Of thy tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound.

Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?

Romeo

Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.

Juliet

How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

Romeo

With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls,

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt:

Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

Juliet

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Romeo

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity.

Juliet

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

Romeo

I have night’s cloak to hide me from their eyes,

And but thou love me, let them find me here.

My life were better ended by their hate

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

Juliet

By whose direction found’st thou out this place?

Romeo

By love, that first did prompt me to enquire;

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash’d with the farthest sea,

I should adventure for such merchandise.

Juliet

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny

What I have spoke; but farewell compliment.

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say Ay,

And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear’st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers’ perjuries,

They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.

Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

I’ll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo. But else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;

And therefore thou mayst think my ’haviour light:

But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard’st, ere I was ’ware,

My true-love passion; therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Romeo

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,

That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,-

Juliet

O swear not by the moon, th’inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

Romeo

What shall I swear by?

Juliet

Do not swear at all.

Or if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I’ll believe thee.

Romeo

If my heart’s dear love,-

Juliet

Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract tonight;

It is too rash, too unadvis’d, too sudden,

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say “It lightens.” Sweet, good night.

This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night. As sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast.

Romeo

O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

Juliet

What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?

Romeo

Th’exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.

Juliet

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it;

And yet I would it were to give again.

Romeo

Would’st thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?

Juliet

But to be frank and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have;

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite.

I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.</p