The Prologue…

The Prologue

Two houshold Frends alike in dignitie, (In faire Verona, where we lay our Scene) From ciuill broyles broke into enmitie, Whose ciuill warre makes ciuill hands vncleane. From forth the fatall loynes of these two foes, 5 A paire of starre-crost Louers tooke their life: Whose misaduentures, piteous ouerthrowes, (Through the continuing of their Fathers strife, And death-markt passage of their Parents rage) Is now the two howres traffique of our Stage. 10 The which if you with patient eares attend, What here we want wee'l studie to amend.

The most excellent Tragedie of

Romeo and Iuliet.

[Sidenote: [SC. I.]]

Enter 2. Seruingmen of the Capolets.

Gregorie, of my word Ile carrie no coales.

2 No, for if you doo, you should be a Collier.

1 If I be in choler, Ile draw.

2 Euer while you liue, drawe your necke out of the the collar. 5

1 I strike quickly being moou'd.

2 I, but you are not quickly moou'd to strike.

1 A Dog of the house of the Mountagues moues me.

2 To mooue is to stirre, and to bee valiant is to stand to it: therefore (of my word) if thou be mooud thou't 10 runne away.

1 There's not a man of them I meete, but Ile take the wall of.

2 That shewes thee a weakling, for the weakest goes to the wall. 15

1 Thats true, therefore Ile thrust the men from the wall, and thrust the maids to to the walls: nay, thou shalt see I am a tall peece of flesh.

2 Tis well thou art not fish, for if thou wert thou wouldst be but poore Iohn. 20

1 Ile play the tyrant, Ile first begin with the maids, & off with their heads.

2 The heads of the maids?

1 I the heades of their Maides, or the Maidenheades, take it in what sence thou wilt. 25

2 Nay let them take it in sence that feele it, but heere comes two of the Mountagues.

Enter two Seruingmen of the Mountagues.

1 Nay feare not me I warrant thee.

2 I feare them no more than thee, but draw.

1 Nay let vs haue the law on our side, let them begin 30 first. Ile tell thee what Ile doo, as I goe by ile bite my thumbe, which is disgrace enough if they suffer it.

2 Content, goe thou by and bite thy thumbe, and ile come after and frowne.

1 Moun: Doo you bite your thumbe at vs? 35

1 I bite my thumbe.

2 Moun: I but i'st at vs?

1 I bite my thumbe, is the law on our side?

2 No.

1 I bite my thumbe. 40

1 Moun: I but i'st at vs? Enter Beneuolio.

2 Say I, here comes my Masters kinsman.

They draw, to them enters Tybalt, they fight, to them the Prince, old Mountague, and his wife, old Capulet and his wife, and other Citizens and part them.

Prince: Rebellious subiects enemies to peace, On paine of torture, from those bloody handes Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground. 45 Three Ciuell brawles bred of an airie word, By the old Capulet and Mountague, Haue thrice disturbd the quiet of our streets. If euer you disturbe our streets againe, Your liues shall pay the ransome of your fault: 50 For this time euery man depart in peace. Come Capulet come you along with me, And Mountague, come you this after noone, To know our farther pleasure in this case, To old free Towne our common iudgement place, 55 Once more on paine of death each man depart.

Exeunt.

M: wife. Who set this auncient quarrel first abroach? Speake Nephew, were you by when it began?

Benuo: Here were the seruants of your aduersaries, And yours close fighting ere I did approch. 60

Wife: Ah where is Romeo, saw you him to day? Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Ben: Madame, an houre before the worshipt sunne Peept through the golden window of the East, A troubled thought drew me from companie: Where vnderneath the groue Sicamoure, That Westward rooteth from the Citties side, So early walking might I see your sonne. I drew towards him, but he was ware of me, And drew into the thicket of the wood: 70 I noting his affections by mine owne, That most are busied when th' are most alone, Pursued my honor, not pursuing his.

Moun: Black and portentious must this honor proue, Vnlesse good counsaile doo the cause remooue. 75

Ben: Why tell me Vncle do you know the cause?

Enter Romeo.

Moun: I neyther know it nor can learne of him.

Ben: See where he is, but stand you both aside, Ile know his grieuance, or be much denied.

Mount: I would thou wert so happie by thy stay 80 To heare true shrift. Come Madame lets away.

Benuo: Good morrow Cosen.

Romeo: Is the day so young?

Ben: But new stroke nine.

Romeo: Ay me, sad hopes seeme long. 85 Was that my Father that went hence so fast?

Ben: It was, what sorrow lengthens Romeos houres?

Rom: Not hauing that, which hauing makes them short.

Ben: In loue.

Ro: Out. 90

Ben: Of loue.

Ro: Out of her fauor where I am in loue.

Ben: Alas that loue so gentle in her view, Should be so tyrranous and rough in proofe.

Ro: Alas that loue whose view is muffled still, 95 Should without lawes giue path-waies to our will: Where shall we dine? Gods me, what fray was here? Yet tell me not for I haue heard it all, Heres much to doe with hate, but more with loue. Why then, O brawling loue, O louing hate, 100 O anie thing, of nothing first create! O heauie lightnes serious vanitie! Mishapen Caos of best seeming thinges, Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sicke health, Still waking sleepe, that is not what it is: 105 This loue feele I, which feele no loue in this. Doest thou not laugh?

Ben: No Cose I rather weepe.

Rom: Good hart at what?

Ben: At thy good hearts oppression. 110

Ro: Why such is loues transgression, Griefes of mine owne lie heauie at my hart, Which thou wouldst propagate to haue them prest With more of thine, this griefe that thou hast showne, Doth ad more griefe to too much of mine owne: 115 Loue is a smoke raisde with the fume of sighes Being purgde, a fire sparkling in louers eyes: Being vext, a sea raging with a louers teares. What is it else? A madnes most discreet, A choking gall, and a preseruing sweet. Farewell Cose. 120

Ben: Nay Ile goe along. And if you hinder me you doo me wrong.

Ro: Tut I haue lost my selfe I am not here, This is not Romeo, hee's some other where.

Ben: Tell me in sadnes whome she is you loue? 125

Ro: What shall I grone and tell thee?

Ben: Why no, but sadly tell me who.

Ro: Bid a sickman in sadnes make his will. Ah word ill vrgde to one that is so ill. In sadnes Cosen I doo loue a woman. 130

Ben: I aimde so right, when as you said you lou'd.

Ro: A right good mark-man, and shee's faire I loue.

Ben: A right faire marke faire Cose is soonest hit.

Ro: But in that hit you misse, shee'le not be hit With Cupids arrow, she hath Dianaes wit, 135 And in strong proofe of chastitie well arm'd: Gainst Cupids childish bow she liues vnharm'd, Shee'le not abide the siedge of louing tearmes, Nor ope her lap to Saint seducing gold, Ah she is rich in beautie, only poore, 140 That when she dies with beautie dies her store. Exeu.

[Sidenote: [SC. II.]]

Enter Countie Paris, old Capulet.

Of honorable reckoning are they both, And pittie tis they liue at ods so long: But leauing that, what say you to my sute?

Capu: What should I say more than I said before, My daughter is a stranger in the world, 5 Shee hath not yet attainde to fourteene yeares: Let two more sommers wither in their pride, Before she can be thought fit for a Bride.

Paris: Younger than she are happie mothers made.

Cap: But too soone marde are these so early maried: 10 But wooe her gentle Paris, get her heart, My word to her consent is but a part. This night I hold an old accustom'd Feast, Whereto I haue inuited many a guest, Such as I loue: yet you among the store, 15 One more most welcome makes the number more. At my poore house you shall behold this night, Earth treadding stars, that make darke heauen light: Such comfort as doo lusty youngmen feele, When well apparaild Aprill on the heele 20 Of lumping winter treads, euen such delights Amongst fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house, heare all, all see, And like her most, whose merite most shalbe. Such amongst view of many myne beeing one, 25 May stand in number though in reckoning none.

Enter Servingman.

Where are you sirra, goe trudge about Through faire Verona streets, and seeke them out: Whose names are written here and to them say, My house and welcome at their pleasure stay. Exeunt. 30

Ser: Seeke them out whose names are written here, and yet I knowe not who are written here: I must to the learned to learne of them, that's as much to say, as the Taylor must meddle with his Laste, the Shoomaker with his needle, the Painter with his nets, and the Fisher 35 with his Pensill, I must to the learned.

Enter Benuolio and Romeo.

Ben: Tut man one fire burnes out anothers burning, One paine is lessned with anothers anguish: Turne backward, and be holp with backward turning. One desperate griefe cures with anothers languish. 40 Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the ranke poyson of the old will die.

Romeo: Your Planton leafe is excellent for that.

Ben: For what?

Romeo: For your broken shin. 45

Ben: Why Romeo art thou mad?

Rom: Not mad, but bound more than a mad man is. Shut vp in prison, kept without my foode, Whipt and tormented, and Godden good fellow.

Ser: Godgigoden, I pray sir can you read? 50

Rom: I mine owne fortune in my miserie.

Ser: Perhaps you haue learned it without booke: but I pray can you read any thing you see?

Rom: I if I know the letters and the language.

Seru: Yee say honestly, rest you merrie. 55

Rom: Stay fellow I can read.

He reads the Letter.

Seigneur Martino and his wife and daughters, Countie Anselme and his beauteous sisters, the Ladie widdow of Vtruuio, Seigneur Placentio, and his louelie Neeces, Mercutio and his brother Valentine, mine vncle Capulet 60 his wife and daughters, my faire Neece Rosaline and Liuia, Seigneur Valentio and his Cosen Tibalt, Lucio and the liuelie Hellena.

A faire assembly, whether should they come?

Ser: Vp. 65

Ro: Whether to supper?

Ser: To our house.

Ro: Whose house?

Ser: My Masters.

Ro: Indeed I should haue askt thee that before. 70

Ser: Now il'e tel you without asking. My Master is the great rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Mountagues, I pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merrie.

Ben: At this same auncient feast of Capulets, 75 Sups the faire Rosaline whom thou so loues: With all the admired beauties of Verona, Goe thither and with vnattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall shew, And I will make thee thinke thy swan a crow. 80

Ro: When the deuout religion of mine eye Maintaines such falshood, then turne teares to fire, And these who often drownde could neuer die, Transparent Heretiques be burnt for liers. One fairer than my loue, the all seeing sonne 85 Nere saw her match, since first the world begun.

Ben: Tut you saw her faire none els being by, Her selfe poysd with her selfe in either eye: But in that Cristall scales let there be waide, Your Ladyes loue, against some other maide 90 That I will shew you shining at this feast, And she shall scant shew well that now seemes best.

Rom: Ile goe along no such sight to be showne, But to reioyce in splendor of mine owne.

[Sidenote: [SC. III.]]

Enter Capulets wife and Nurce.

Wife: Nurce wher's my daughter call her forth to mee.

Nurce: Now by my maiden head at twelue yeare old I bad her come, what Lamb, what Ladie bird, God forbid. Wher's this girle? what Iuliet. Enter Iuliet. 5

Iuliet: How now who cals?

Nurce: Your Mother.

Iul: Madame I am here, what is your will?

W: This is the matter. Nurse giue leaue a while, we must talke in secret. Nurce come back again I haue remembred 10 me, thou'se heare our counsaile. Thou knowest my daughters of a prettie age.

Nurce: Faith I can tell her age vnto a houre.

Wife: Shee's not fourteene.

Nurce: I'll lay fourteene of my teeth, and yet to my 15 teene be it spoken, I haue but foure, shee's not fourteene. How long is it now to Lammas-tide?

Wife: A fortnight and odde dayes.

Nurce: Euen or odde, of all dayes in the yeare come Lammas Eue at night shall she be fourteene. Susan and she 20 God rest all Christian soules were of an age. Well Susan is with God, she was too good for me: But as I said on Lammas Eue at night shall she be fourteene, that shall shee marie I remember it well. Tis since the Earth-quake nowe eleauen yeares, and she was weand I neuer shall forget it, of 25 all the daies of the yeare vpon that day: for I had then laid wormewood to my dug, sitting in the sun vnder the Doue-house wall. My Lord and you were then at Mantua, nay I do beare a braine: But as I said, when it did tast the wormwood on the nipple of my dug, & felt it bitter, pretty foole 30 to see it teachie and fall out with Dugge. Shake quoth the Doue-house twas no need I trow to bid me trudge, and since that time it is a leauen yeare: for then could Iuliet stande high lone, nay by the Roode, shee could haue wadled vp and downe, for euen the day before shee brake her brow, and then 35 my husband God be with his soule, hee was a merrie man: Dost thou fall forward Iuliet? thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit: wilt thou not Iuliet? and by my hollidam, the pretty foole left crying and said I. To see how a ieast shall come about, I warrant you if I should liue a hundred 40 yeare, I neuer should forget it, wilt thou not Iuliet_?_ and by my troth she stinted and cried I.

Iuliet: And stint thou too, I prethee Nurce say I.

Nurce: Well goe thy waies, God marke thee for his grace, thou wert the prettiest Babe that euer I nurst, might 45 I but liue to see thee married once, I haue my wish.

Wife: And that same marriage Nurce, is the Theame I meant to talke of: Tell me Iuliet, howe stand you affected to be married?

Iul: It is an honor that I dreame not off. 50

Nurce: An honor! were not I thy onely Nurce, I would say thou hadst suckt wisedome from thy Teat.

Wife: Well girle, the Noble Countie Paris seekes thee for his Wife.

Nurce: A man young Ladie, Ladie such a man as all 55 the world, why he is a man of waxe.

Wife: Veronaes Summer hath not such a flower.

Nurce: Nay he is a flower, in faith a very flower.

Wife: Well Iuliet, how like you of Paris loue.

Iuliet: Ile looke to like, if looking liking moue, 60 But no more deepe will I engage mine eye, Then your consent giues strength to make it flie.

Enter Clowne.

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

[Sidenote: [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.

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

Rom: A torch for me I am not for this aumbling, 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.

Mer: Giue me a case to put my visage in, 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.

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.

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.

Rom: So we meane well by going to this maske: 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

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 frose 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.

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.

[Sidenote: [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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Ti: It fits when such a villaine is a guest, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

Rom: Is she a Mountague? Oh deare account, My life is my foes thrall. 95

Ca: Nay gentlemen prepare not to be gone, 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.

Iul: Nurse, what is yonder Gentleman?

Nur: The sonne and heire of old Tiberio.

Iul: Whats he that now is going out of dore? 105

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

Nur: His name is Romeo and a Mountague, the onely 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.

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.

[Sidenote: [SC. VI.]]

Enter Romeo alone.

Ro: Shall I goe forward and my heart is here? 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

Ben: He came this way, and leapt this Orchard wall. 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

Rom: I take thee at thy word, 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

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.

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?

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.

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.

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

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

Iul: By whose directions foundst thou out this place.

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.

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.

Ro: By yonder blessed Moone I sweare, 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Ro: Loue goes toward loue like schoole boyes from their bookes, 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

Ro: It is my soule that calles vpon my name, 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.

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.

Rom: And il'e stay still to haue thee still forget, 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.

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.

Rom: Sleepe dwell vpon thine eyes, peace on thy breast, 205 I would that I were sleep and peace of sweet to rest. Now will I to my Ghostly fathers Cell, His help to craue, and my good hap to tell.

[Sidenote: [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.

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.

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

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.

Frier: Be plaine my sonne and homely in thy drift, 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.

Fri: Holy S. Francis, what a change is here? Is R_osaline_ 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.

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.

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.

[Sidenote: [SC. VIII.]]

Enter Mercutio, Benuolio.

Mer: Why whats become of Romeo? came he not home to night?

Ben: Not to his Fathers, I spake with his man.

Mer: Ah that same pale hard hearted wench, that Rosaline, Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

Mer: Tybalt the Kinsman of olde Capolet 5 Hath sent a Letter to his Fathers House: Some Challenge on my life.

Ben: Romeo will answere it.

Mer: I, anie man that can write may answere a letter.

Ben: Nay, he will answere the letters master if hee bee challenged. 10

Mer: Who, Romeo? why he is alreadie dead: stabd with a white wenches blacke eye, shot thorough the eare with a loue song, the verie pinne of his heart cleft with the blinde bow-boyes but-shaft. And is he a man to encounter Tybalt? 15

Ben: Why what is Tybalt?

Mer: More than the prince of cattes I can tell you. Oh he is the couragious captaine of complements. Catso, he fightes as you sing pricke-song, keepes time dystance and proportion, rests me his minum rest one two and the thirde 20 in your bosome, the very butcher of a silken button, a Duellist a Duellist, a gentleman of the very first house of the first and second cause, ah the immortall Passado, the Punto reuerso, the Hay.

Ben: The what? 25

Me: The Poxe of such limping antique affecting fantasticoes these new tuners of accents. By Iesu a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whoore. Why graundsir is not this a miserable case that we should be stil afflicted with these strange flies: these fashionmongers, these pardonmees, 30 that stand so much on the new forme, that they cannot sitte at ease on the old bench. Oh their bones, theyr bones.

Ben. Heere comes Romeo.

Mer: Without his Roe, like a dryed Hering. O flesh flesh 35 how art thou fishified. Sirra now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowdin: Laura to his Lady was but a kitchin drudg, yet she had a better loue to berime her: Dido a dowdy Cleopatra a Gypsie, Hero and Hellen hildings and harletries: Thisbie a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior 40 Romeo bon iour, there is a French curtesie to your French slop: yee gaue vs the counterfeit fairely yesternight.

Rom: What counterfeit I pray you?

Me: The slip the slip, can you not conceiue?

Rom: I cry you mercy my busines was great, and in such 45 a case as mine, a man may straine curtesie.

Mer: Oh thats as much to say as such a case as yours wil constraine a man to bow in the hams.

Rom: A most curteous exposition.

Me: Why I am the very pinke of curtesie. 50

Rom: Pinke for flower?

Mer: Right.

Rom: Then is my Pumpe well flour'd:

Mer: Well said, follow me nowe that iest till thou hast worne out thy Pumpe, that when the single sole of it is worn 55 the iest may remaine after the wearing solie singuler.

Rom: O single soald iest solie singuler for the singlenes.

Me: Come between vs good Benuolio, for my wits faile.

Rom: Swits and spurres, swits & spurres, or Ile cry a match.

Mer: Nay if thy wits runne the wildgoose chase, I haue 60 done: for I am sure thou hast more of the goose in one of thy wits, than I haue in all my fiue: Was I with you there for the goose?

Rom: Thou wert neuer with me for any thing, when thou wert not with me for the goose. 65

Me: Ile bite thee by the eare for that iest.

Rom: Nay good goose bite not.

Mer: Why thy wit is a bitter sweeting, a most sharp sauce

Rom: And was it not well seru'd in to a sweet goose?

Mer: Oh heere is a witte of Cheuerell that stretcheth 70 from an ynch narrow to an ell broad.

Rom: I stretcht it out for the word broad, which added to the goose, proues thee faire and wide a broad goose.

Mer: Why is not this better now than groning for loue? why now art thou sociable, now art thou thy selfe, nowe art 75 thou what thou art, as wel by arte as nature. This driueling loue is like a great naturall, that runs vp and downe to hide his bable in a hole.

Ben: Stop there.

Me: Why thou wouldst haue me stopp my tale against 80 the haire.

Ben: Thou wouldst haue made thy tale too long?

Mer: Tut man thou art deceiued, I meant to make it short, for I was come to the whole depth of my tale? and meant indeed to occupie the argument no longer. 85

Rom: Heers goodly geare.

Enter Nurse and her man.

Mer: A saile, a saile, a saile.

Ben: Two, two, a shirt and a smocke.

Nur: Peter, pree thee giue me my fan.

Mer: Pree thee doo good Peter, to hide her face: for 90 her fanne is the fairer of the two.

Nur: God ye goodmorrow Gentlemen.

Mer: God ye good den faire Gentlewoman.

Nur: Is it godyegooden I pray you.

Mer: Tis no lesse I assure you, for the baudie hand of 95 the diall is euen now vpon the pricke of noone.

Nur: Fie, what a man is this?

Rom: A Gentleman Nurse, that God hath made for himselfe to marre.

Nur: By my troth well said: for himselfe to marre 100 quoth he? I pray you can anie of you tell where one maie finde yong Romeo?

Rom: I can: but yong Romeo will bee elder when you haue found him, than he was when you sought him. I am the yongest of that name for fault of a worse. 105

Nur: Well said.

Mer: Yea, is the worst well? mas well noted, wisely, wisely.

Nu: If you be he sir, I desire some conference with ye.

Ben: O, belike she meanes to inuite him to supper. 110

Mer: So ho. A baud, a baud, a baud.

Rom: Why what hast found man?

Mer: No hare sir, vnlesse it be a hare in a lenten pye, that is somewhat stale and hoare ere it be eaten.

He walkes by them, and sings.

And an olde hare hore, and an olde hare hore 115 is verie good meate in Lent: But a hare thats hoare is too much for a score, if it hore ere it be spent.

Youl come to your fathers to supper?

Rom: I will. 120

Mer: Farewell ancient Ladie, farewell sweete Ladie.

Exeunt Benuolio, Mercutio.

Nur: Marry farewell. Pray what saucie merchant was this that was so full of his roperipe?

Rom: A gentleman Nurse that loues to heare himselfe talke, and will speake more in an houre than hee will stand to in a month. 125

Nur: If he stand to anie thing against mee, Ile take him downe if he were lustier than he is: if I cannot take him downe, Ile finde them that shall: I am none of his flurtgills, I am none of his skaines mates. 130

She turnes to Peter her man.

And thou like a knaue must stand by, and see euery Iacke vse me at his pleasure.

Pet: I see no bodie vse you at his pleasure, if I had, I would soone haue drawen: you know my toole is as soone out as anothers if I see time and place. 135

Nur: Now afore God he hath so vext me, that euerie member about me quiuers: scuruie Iacke. But as I said, my Ladie bad me seeke ye out, and what shee bad me tell yee, that Ile keepe to my selfe: but if you should lead her into a fooles paradice as they saye, it were a verie grosse kinde of 140 behauiour as they say, for the Gentlewoman is yong. Now if you should deale doubly with her, it were verie weake dealing, and not to be offered to anie Gentlewoman.

Rom: Nurse, commend me to thy Ladie, tell her I protest. 145

Nur: Good heart: yfaith Ile tell her so: oh she will be a ioyfull woman.

Rom: Why, what wilt thou tell her?

Nur: That you doo protest: which (as I take it) is a Gentlemanlike proffer. 150

Rom: Bid her get leaue to morrow morning To come to shrift to Frier Laurence cell: And stay thou Nurse behinde the Abbey wall, My man shall come to thee, and bring along The cordes, made like a tackled staire, 155 Which to the high top-gallant of my ioy Must be my conduct in the secret night. Hold, take that for thy paines.

Nur: No, not a penie truly.

Rom: I say you shall not chuse. 160

Nur: Well, to morrow morning she shall not faile.

Rom: Farewell, be trustie, and Ile quite thy paine. Exit.

Nur: Peter, take my fanne, and goe before. Ex. omnes.

[Sidenote: [SC. IX.]]

Enter Iuliet.

Jul: The clocke stroke nine when I did send my Nursse In halfe an houre she promist to returne. Perhaps she cannot finde him. Thats not so. Oh she is lazie, Loues heralds should be thoughts, And runne more swift, than hastie powder fierd, 5 Doth hurrie from the fearfull Cannons mouth.

Enter Nurse.

Oh now she comes. Tell me gentle Nurse, What sayes my Loue?

Nur: Oh I am wearie, let mee rest a while. Lord how my bones ake. Oh wheres my man? Giue me some aqua 10 vitæ.

Iul: I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy newes.

Nur: Fie, what a iaunt haue I had: and my backe a tother side. Lord, Lord, what a case am I in.

Jul: But tell me sweet Nurse, what sayes Romeo? 15

Nur: Romeo, nay, alas you cannot chuse a man. Hees no bodie, he is not the Flower of curtesie, he is not a proper man: and for a hand, and a foote, and a baudie, wel go thy way wench, thou hast it ifaith. Lord, Lord, how my head beates? 20

Iul: What of all this? tell me what sayes he to our mariage?

Nur: Marry he sayes like an honest Gentleman, and a kinde, and I warrant a vertuous: wheres your Mother?

Iul: Lord, Lord, how odly thou repliest? He saies like a 25 kinde Gentleman, and an honest, and a vertuous; wheres your mother?

Nur: Marry come vp, cannot you stay a while? is this the poultesse for mine aking boanes? next arrant youl haue done, euen doot your selfe. 30

Iul: Nay stay sweet Nurse, I doo intreate thee now, What sayes my Loue, my Lord, my Romeo?

Nur: Goe, hye you straight to Friar Laurence Cell, And frame a scuse that you must goe to shrift: There stayes a Bridegroome to make you a Bride. 35 Now comes the wanton blood vp in your cheekes, I must prouide a ladder made of cordes, With which your Lord must clime a birdes nest soone. I must take paines to further your delight, But you must beare the burden soone at night. 40 Doth this newes please you now?

Iul: How doth her latter words reuiue my hart. Thankes gentle Nurse, dispatch thy busines, And Ile not faile to meete my Romeo. Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. X.]]

Enter Romeo, Frier.

Rom: Now Father Laurence, in thy holy grant Consists the good of me and Iuliet.

Fr: Without more words I will doo all I may, To make you happie if in me it lye.

Rom: This morning here she pointed we should meet, 5 And consumate those neuer parting bands, Witnes of our harts loue by ioyning hands. And come she will.

Fr: I gesse she will indeed, Youths loue is quicke, swifter than swiftest speed. 10

Enter Iuliet somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo.

See where she comes. So light of foote nere hurts the troden flower: Of loue and ioy, see see the soueraigne power.

Iul: Romeo.

Rom: My Iuliet welcome. As doo waking eyes 15 (Cloasd in Nights mysts) attend the frolicke Day, So Romeo hath expected Iuliet, And thou art come.

Jul: I am (if I be Day) Come to my Sunne: shine foorth, and make me faire. 20

Rom: All beauteous fairnes dwelleth in thine eyes.

Iul: Romeo from thine all brightnes doth arise.

Fr: Come wantons, come, the stealing houres do passe Defer imbracements till some fitrer time, Part for a while, you shall not be alone, 25 Till holy Church haue ioynd ye both in one.

Rom: Lead holy Father, all delay seemes long.

Iul: Make hast, make hast, this lingring doth vs wrong.

Fr: O, soft and faire makes sweetest worke they say. Hast is a common hindrer in crosse way. Exeunt omnes. 30

[Sidenote: [SC. XI.]]

Enter Benuolio, Mercutio.

Ben: I pree thee good Mercutio lets retire, The day is hot, the Capels are abroad.

Mer: Thou art like one of those, that when hee comes into the confines of a tauerne, claps me his rapier on the boord, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by 5 the operation of the next cup of wine, he drawes it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Ben: Am I like such a one?

Mer: Go too, thou art as hot a Iacke being mooude, and as soone mooude to be moodie, and as soone moodie to 10 be mooud.

Ben: And what too?

Mer: Nay, and there were two such, wee should haue none shortly. Didst not thou fall out with a man for cracking of nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hadst 15 hasill eyes? what eye but such an eye would haue pickt out such a quarrell? With another for coughing, because hee wakd thy dogge that lay a sleepe in the Sunne? With a Taylor for wearing his new dublet before Easter: and with another for tying his new shoes with olde ribands. And yet thou wilt forbid me of quarrelling.

Ben: By my head heere comes a Capolet.

Enter Tybalt.

Mer: By my heele I care not.

Tyb: Gentlemen a word with one of you.

Mer: But one word with one of vs? You had best couple 25 it with somewhat, and make it a word and a blow.

Tyb: I am apt enough to that if I haue occasion.

Mer: Could you not take occasion?

Tyb: Mercutio thou consorts with Romeo?

Mer: Consort. Zwounes consort? the slaue wil make fidlers 30 of vs. If you doe sirra, look for nothing but discord: For heeres my fiddle-sticke.

Enter Romeo.

Tyb: Well peace be with you, heere comes my man.

Mer: But Ile be hanged if he weare your lyuery: Mary go before into the field, and he may be your follower, so in 35 that sence your worship may call him man.

Tyb: Romeo the hate I beare to thee can affoord no better words then these, thou art a villaine.

Rom: Tybalt the loue I beare to thee, doth excuse the appertaining rage to such a word: villaine am I none, therfore 40 I well perceiue thou knowst me not.

Tyb: Bace boy this cannot serue thy turne, and therefore drawe.

Ro: I doe protest I neuer iniured thee, but loue thee better than thou canst deuise, till thou shall know the reason of 45 my loue.

Mer: O dishonorable vile submission. Allastockado caries it away. You Ratcatcher, come backe, come backe.

Tyb: What wouldest with me?

Mer: Nothing King of Cates, but borrow one of your 50 nine liues, therefore come drawe your rapier out of your scabard, least mine be about your eares ere you be aware.

Rom: Stay Tibalt, hould Mercutio: Benuolio beate downe their weapons.

Tibalt vnder Romeos arme thrusts Mercutio, in and flyes.

Mer: Is he gone, hath hee nothing? A poxe on your 55 houses.

Rom: What art thou hurt man, the wound is not deepe.

Mer: Noe not so deepe as a Well, nor so wide as a barne doore, but it will serue I warrant. What meant you to come betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme. 60

Rom: I did all for the best.

Mer: Apoxe of your houses, I am fairely drest. Sirra goe fetch me a Surgeon.

Boy: I goe my Lord.

Mer: I am pepperd for this world, I am sped yfaith, he 65 hath made wormes meate of me, & ye aske for me to morrow you shall finde me a graue-man. A poxe of your houses, I shall be fairely mounted vpon foure mens shoulders: For your house of the Mountegues and the Capolets: and then some peasantly rogue, some Sexton, some base slaue shall 70 write my Epitapth, that Tybalt came and broke the Princes Lawes, and Mercutio was slaine for the first and second cause. Wher's the Surgeon?

Boy: Hee's come sir.

Mer: Now heele keepe a mumbling in my guts on the 75 other side, come Benuolio, lend me thy hand: a poxe of your houses. Exeunt.

Rom: This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie. My very frend hath tane this mortall wound In my behalfe, my reputation staind 80 With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre Hath beene my kinsman. Ah Iuliet Thy beautie makes me thus effeminate, And in my temper softens valors steele.

Enter Benuolio.

Ben: Ah Romeo Romeo braue Mercutio is dead, 85 That gallant spirit hath a spir'd the cloudes, Which too vntimely scornd the lowly earth.

Rom: This daies black fate, on more daies doth depend This but begins what other dayes must end.

Enter Tibalt.

Ben: Heere comes the furious Tibalt backe againe. 90

Rom: A liue in tryumph and Mercutio slaine? Away to heauen respectiue lenity: And fier eyed fury be my conduct now. Now Tibalt take the villaine backe againe, Which late thou gau'st me: for Mercutios soule, 95 Is but a little way aboue the cloudes, And staies for thine to beare him company. Or thou, or I, or both shall follow him.

Fight, Tibalt falles.

Ben: Romeo away, thou seest that Tibalt's slaine, The Citizens approach, away, begone Thou wilt be taken.

Rom: Ah I am fortunes slaue.

Exeunt.

Enter Citizens.

Watch: Wher's he that slue Mercutio, Tybalt that villaine?

Ben: There is that Tybalt. 105 Vp sirra goe with vs[1594].

Enter Prince, Capolets wife.

Pry: Where be the vile beginners of this fray?

Ben: Ah Noble Prince I can discouer all The most vnlucky mannage of this brawle. Heere lyes the man slaine by yong R_omeo_, 110 That slew thy kinsman braue Mercutio.

M: Tibalt, Tybalt, O my brothers child, Vnhappie sight? Ah the blood is spilt Of my deare kinsman, Prince as thou art true: For blood of ours, shed bloud of Mountagew. 115

Pry: Speake Benuolio who began this fray?

Ben: Tibalt heere slaine whom R_omeos_ hand did slay. R_omeo_ who spake him fayre bid him bethinke How nice the quarrell was. But Tibalt still persisting in his wrong, 120 The stout Mercutio drewe to calme the storme, Which R_omeo_ seeing cal'd stay Gentlemen, And on me cry'd, who drew to part their strife, And with his agill arme yong R_omeo_, As fast as tung crydepeace, sought peace to make. 125 While they were enterchanging thrusts and blows, Vnder yong R_omeos_ laboring arme to part, The furious Tybalt cast an enuious thrust, That rid the life of stout Mercutio. With that he fled, but presently return'd, 130 And with his rapier braued R_omeo_: That had but newly entertain'd reuenge. And ere I could draw forth my rapyer To part their furie, downe did Tybalt fall, And this way R_omeo_ fled. 135

Mo: He is a Mountagew and speakes partiall, Some twentie of them fought in this blacke strife: And all those twenty could but kill one life. I doo intreate sweete Prince thoult iustice giue, Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo may not liue. 140

Prin: And for that offence Immediately we doo exile him hence. I haue an interest in your hates proceeding, My blood for your rude braules doth lye a bleeding. But Ile amerce you with so large a fine, 145 That you shall all repent the losse of mine. I will be deafe to pleading and excuses, Nor teares nor prayers shall purchase for abuses. Pittie shall dwell and gouerne with vs still: Mercie to all but murdrers, pardoning none that kill. 150

Exeunt omnes.

[Sidenote: [SC. XII.]]

Enter Iuliet.

Iul: Gallop apace you fierie footed steedes To Phoebus mansion, such a Waggoner As Phaeton, would quickly bring you thether, And send in cloudie night immediately.

Enter Nurse wringing her hands, with the ladder of cordes in her lap.

But how now Nurse: O Lord, why lookst thou sad? 5 What hast thou there, the cordes?

Nur: I, I, the cordes: alacke we are vndone, We are vndone, Ladie we are vndone.

Iul: What diuell art thou that torments me thus?

Nurs: Alack the day, hees dead, hees dead, hees dead. 10

Jul: This torture should be roard in dismall hell. Can heauens be so enuious?

Nur: Romeo can if heauens cannot. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes. God saue the sample, on his manly breast: 15 A bloodie coarse, a piteous bloodie coarse, All pale as ashes, I swounded at the sight.

Iul: Ah Romeo, Romeo, what disaster hap Hath seuerd thee from thy true Juliet? Ah why should Heauen so much conspire with Woe, 20 Or Fate enuie our happie Marriage, So soone to sunder vs by timelesse Death?

Nur: O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best frend I had, O honest Tybalt, curteous Gentleman.

Iul: What storme is this that blowes so contrarie, 25 Is Tybalt dead, and Romeo murdered: My deare loude cousen, and my dearest Lord. Then let the trumpet sound a generall doome These two being dead, then liuing is there none.

Nur: Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished, 30 Romeo that murdred him is banished.

Iul: Ah heauens, did Romeos hand shed Tybalts blood?

Nur: It did, it did, alacke the day it did.

Iul: O serpents hate, hid with a flowring face: O painted sepulcher, including filth. 35 Was neuer booke containing so foule matter, So fairly bound. Ah, what meant Romeo?

Nur: There is no truth, no faith, no honestie in men: All false, all faithles, periurde, all forsworne. Shame come to Romeo. 40

Iul: A blister on that tung, he was not borne to shame: Vpon his face Shame is ashamde to sit. But wherefore villaine didst thou kill my Cousen? That villaine Cousen would haue kild my husband. All this is comfort. But there yet remaines 45 Worse than his death, which faine I would forget: But ah, it presseth to my memorie, Romeo is banished. Ah that word Banished Is worse than death. R_omeo_ is banished, Is Father, Mother, Tybalt, I_uliet_, 50 All killd, all slaine, all dead, all banished. Where are my Father and my Mother Nurse?

Nur: Weeping and wayling ouer Tybalts coarse. Will you goe to them?

Iul: I, I, when theirs are spent, 55 Mine shall he shed for R_omeos_ banishment.

Nur: Ladie, your R_omeo_ will be here to night, Ile to him, he is hid at Laurence Cell.

Iul: Doo so, and beare this Ring to my true Knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell. Exeunt. 60

[Sidenote: [SC. XIII.]]

Enter Frier.

Fr: R_omeo_ come forth, come forth thou fearfull man, Affliction is enamourd on thy parts, And thou art wedded to Calamitie.

Enter Romeo.

Rom: Father what newes, what is the Princes doome, What Sorrow craues acquaintance at our hands, 5 Which yet we know not.

Fr: Too familiar Is my yong sonne with such sowre companie: I bring thee tidings of the Princes doome.

Rom: What lesse than doomes day is the Princes doome? 10

Fr: A gentler iudgement vanisht from his lips, Not bodies death, but bodies banishment.

Rom: Ha, Banished? be mercifull, say death: For Exile hath more terror in his lookes, Than death it selfe, doo not say Banishment. 15

Fr: Hence from Verona art thou banished: Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

Rom: There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatorie, torture, hell it selfe. Hence banished, is banisht from the world: 20 And world exilde is death. Calling death banishment, Thou cutst my head off with a golden axe, And smilest vpon the stroke that murders me.

Fr: Oh monstrous sinne, O rude vnthankfulnes: Thy fault our law calls death, but the milde Prince 25 (Taking thy part) hath rushd aside the law, And turnd that blacke word death to banishment: This is meere mercie, and thou seest it not.

Rom: Tis torture and not mercie, heauen is heere Where Iuliet liues: and euerie cat and dog, 30 And little mouse, euerie vnworthie thing Liue here in heauen, and may looke on her, But R_omeo_ may not. More validitie, More honourable state, more courtship liues In carrion flyes, than R_omeo_: they may seaze 35 On the white wonder of faire Iuliets skinne, And steale immortall kisses from her lips; But R_omeo_ may not, he is banished. Flies may doo this, but I from this must flye. Oh Father hadst thou no strong poyson mixt, 40 No sharpe ground knife, no present meane of death, Though nere so meane, but banishment To torture me withall: ah, banished. O Frier, the damned vse that word in hell: Howling attends it. How hadst thou the heart, 45 Being a Diuine, a ghostly Confessor, A sinne absoluer, and my frend profest, To mangle me with that word, Banishment?

Fr: Thou fond mad man, heare me but speake a word.

Rom: O, thou wilt talke againe of Banishment. 50

Fr: Ile giue thee armour to beare off this word, Aduersities sweete milke, philosophie, To comfort thee though thou be banished.

Rom: Yet Banished? hang vp philosophie, Vnlesse philosophie can make a Juliet, 55 Displant a Towne, reuerse a Princes doome, It helpes not, it prevailes not, talke no more.

Fr: O, now I see that madmen haue no eares.

Rom: How should they, when that wise men haue no eyes.

Fr: Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. 60

Rom: Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feele. Wert thou as young as I, Iuliet thy Loue, An houre but married, Tybalt murdred. Doting like me, and like me banished, Then mightst thou speake, then mightst thou teare thy hayre. 65 And fall vpon the ground as I doe now, Taking the measure of an vnmade graue.

Nurse knockes.

Fr: R_omeo_ arise, stand vp thou wilt be taken, I heare one knocke, arise and get thee gone.

Nu: Hoe Fryer. 70

Fr: Gods will what wilfulnes is this?

Shee knockes againe.

Nur: Hoe Fryer open the doore,

Fr: By and by I come. Who is there?

Nur: One from Lady Iuliet.

Fr: Then come neare. 75

Nur: Oh holy Fryer, tell mee oh holy Fryer, Where is my Ladies Lord? Wher's R_omeo_?

Fr: There on the ground, with his owne teares made drunke.

Nur: Oh he is euen in my Mistresse case. 80 Iust in her case. Oh wofull simpathy, Pitteous predicament, euen so lyes shee, Weeping and blubbring, blubbring and weeping: Stand vp, stand vp, stand and you be a man. For Iuliets sake, for her sake rise and stand, 85 Why should you fall into so deep an O.

He rises.

Romeo: Nurse.

Nur: Ah sir, ah sir. Wel death's the end of all.

Rom: Spakest thou of Iuliet, how is it with her? Doth she not thinke me an olde murderer, 90 Now I haue stainde the childhood of her ioy, With bloud remou'd but little from her owne? Where is she? and how doth she? And what sayes My conceal'd Lady to our canceld loue?

Nur: Oh she saith nothing, but weepes and pules, 95 And now fals on her bed, now on the ground, And Tybalt cryes, and then on Romeo calles.

Rom: As if that name shot from the deadly leuel of a gun Did murder her, as that names cursed hand Murderd her kinsman. Ah tell me holy Fryer 100 In what vile part of this Anatomy Doth my name lye? Tell me that I may sacke The hatefull mansion?

He offers to stab himselfe, and Nurse snatches the dagger away.

Nur: Ah?

Fr: Hold, stay thy hand: art thou a man? thy forme 105 Cryes out thou art, but thy wilde actes denote The vnresonable furyes of a beast. Vnseemely woman in a seeming man, Or ill beseeming beast in seeming both. Thou hast amaz'd me. By my holy order, 110 I thought thy disposition better temperd, Hast thou slaine Tybalt? wilt thou slay thy selfe? And slay thy Lady too, that liues in thee? Rouse vp thy spirits, thy Lady Iuliet liues, For whose sweet sake thou wert but lately dead: 115 There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee, But thou sluest Tybalt, there art thou happy too. A packe of blessings lights vpon thy backe, Happines Courts thee in his best array: But like a misbehaude and sullen wench 120 Thou frownst vpon thy Fate that smilles on thee. Take heede, take heede, for such dye miserable. Goe get thee to thy loue as was decreed: Ascend her Chamber Window, hence and comfort her, But looke thou stay not till the watch be set: 125 For then thou canst not passe to Mantua. Nurse prouide all things in a readines, Comfort thy Mistresse, haste the house to bed, Which heauy sorrow makes them apt vnto.

Nur: Good Lord what a thing learning is. 130 I could haue stayde heere all this night To heare good counsell. Well Sir, Ile tell my Lady that you will come.

Rom: Doe so and bidde my sweet prepare to childe, Farwell good Nurse. 135

Nurse offers to goe in and turnes againe.

Nur: Heere is a Ring Sir, that she bad me giue you,

Rom: How well my comfort is reuiud by this.

Exit Nurse.

Fr: Soiorne in Mantua, Ile finde out your man, And he shall signifie from time to time: Euery good hap that doth befall thee heere. 140 Farwell.

Rom: But that a ioy, past ioy cryes out on me, It were a griefe so breefe to part with thee.

[Sidenote: [SC. XIV.]]

Enter olde Capolet and his Wife, with County Paris.

Cap: Thinges haue fallen out Sir so vnluckily, That we haue had no time to moue my daughter. Looke yee Sir, she lou'd her kinsman dearely, And so did I. Well, we were borne to dye, Wife wher's your daughter, is she in her chamber? 5 I thinke she meanes not to come downe to night.

Par: These times of woe affoord no time to wooe, Maddam farwell, commend me to your daughter.

Paris offers to goe in, and Capolet calles him againe.

Cap: Sir Paris? Ile make a desperate tender of my child. I thinke she will be rulde in all respectes by mee: 10 But soft what day is this?

Par: Munday my Lord.

Cap: Oh then Wensday is too soone, On Thursday let it be: you shall be maried. Wee'le make no great a doe, a frend or two, or so: 15 For looke ye Sir, Tybalt being slaine so lately, It will be thought we held him care leslye: If we should reuell much, therefore we will haue Some halfe a dozen frends and make no more adoe. But what say you to Thursday. 20

Par: My Lorde I wishe that Thursday were to morrow.

Cap: Wife goe you to your daughter, ere you goe to bed. Acquaint her with the County Paris loue, Fare well my Lord till Thursday next. Wife gette you to your daughter. Light to my Chamber. 25 Afore me it is so very very late, That we may call it earely by and by.

Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. XV.]]

Enter Romeo and Iuliet at the window.

Iul: Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet nere day, It was the Nightingale and not the Larke That pierst the fearfull hollow of thine eare: Nightly she sings on yon Pomegranate tree, Beleeue me loue, it was the Nightingale. 5

Rom: It was the Larke, the Herald of the Morne, And not the Nightingale. See Loue what enuious strakes Doo lace the seuering clowdes in yonder East. Nights candles are burnt out, and iocond Day Stands tiptoes on the mystie mountaine tops. 10 I must be gone and liue, or stay and dye.

Jul: Yon light is not day light, I know it I: It is some Meteor that the Sunne exhales, To be this night to thee a Torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua. 15 Then stay awhile, thou shalt not goe soone.

Rom: Let me stay here, let me be tane, and dye: If thou wilt haue it so, I am content. Ile say yon gray is not the Mornings Eye, It is the pale reflex of Cynthias brow. 20 Ile say it is the Nightingale that beates The vaultic heauen so high aboue our heads, And not the Larke the Messenger of Morne. Come death and welcome, Iuliet wils it so. What sayes my Loue? lets talke, tis not yet day. 25

Jul: It is, it is, begone, flye hence away. It is the Larke that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh Discords and vnpleasing Sharpes. Some say, the Larke makes sweete Diuision: This doth not so: for this diuideth vs. 30 Some say the Larke and loathed Toad change eyes, I would that now they had changd voyces too: Since arme from arme her voyce doth vs affray, Hunting thee hence with Huntsvp to the day. So now be gone, more light and light it growes. 35

Rom: More light and light, more darke and darke our woes. Farewell my Loue, one kisse and Ile descend.

He goeth downe.

Jul: Art thou gone so, my Lord, my Loue, my Frend? I must heare from thee euerie day in the hower: For in an hower there are manie minutes, 40 Minutes are dayes, so will I number them: Oh, by this count I shall be much in yeares, Ere I see thee againe.

Rom: Farewell, I will omit no opportunitie That may conueigh my greetings loue to thee.

Iul: Oh, thinkst thou we shall euer meete againe.

Rom: No doubt, no doubt, and all this woe shall serue For sweete discourses in the time to come.

Jul: Oh God, I have an ill diuining soule. Me thinkes I see thee now thou art below 50 Like one dead in the bottome of a Tombe: Either mine ey-sight failes, or thou lookst pale.

Rom: And trust me Loue, in my eye so doo you, Drie sorrow drinkes our blood: adieu, adieu. Exit.

Enter Nurse hastely.

Nur: Madame beware, take heed the day is broke, 55 Your Mother's comming to your Chamber, make all sure.

She goeth downe from the window.

Enter Iuliets Mother, Nurse.

Moth: Where are you Daughter?

Nur: What Ladie, Lambe, what Iuliet?

Iul: How now, who calls?

Nur: It is your Mother. 60

Moth: Why how now Juliet?

Iul: Madam, I am not well.

Moth: What euermore weeping for your Cosens death: I thinke thoult wash him from his graue with teares.

Iul: I cannot chuse, hauing so great a losse. 65

Moth: I cannot blame thee. But it greeues thee more that Villaine liues.

Iul: What Villaine Madame?

Moth: That Villaine Romeo.

Iul: Villaine and he are manie miles a sunder. 70

Moth: Content thee Girle, if I could finde a man I soone would send to Mantua where he is, That should bestow on him so sure a draught, As he should soone beare Tybalt companie.

Iul: Finde you the meanes, and Ile finde such a man: 75 For whilest he liues, my heart shall nere be light Till I behold him, dead is my poore heart. Thus for a Kinsman vext?

Moth: Well let that passe. I come to bring thee ioyfull newes?

Iul: And ioy comes well in such a needfull time. 80

Moth: Well then, thou hast a carefull Father Girle, And one who pittying thy needfull state, Hath found thee out a happie day of ioy.

Iul: What day is that I pray you?

Moth: Marry my Childe, 85 The gallant, yong and youthfull Gentleman, The Countie Paris at Saint Peters Church, Early next Thursday morning must prouide, To make you there a glad and ioyfull Bride.

Iul: Now by Saint Peters Church and Peter too, 90 He shall not there make mee a ioyfull Bride. Are these the newes you had to tell me of? Marrie here are newes indeed. Madame I will not marrie yet. And when I doo, it shalbe rather Romeo whom I hate, Than Countie Paris that I cannot loue. 95

Enter olde Capolet.

Moth: Here comes your Father, you may tell him so.

Capo: Why how now, euermore showring? In one little bodie thou resemblest a sea, a barke, a storme: For this thy bodie which I tearme a barke, Still floating in thy euerfalling teares, 100 And tost with sighes arising from thy hart: Will without succour shipwracke presently. But heare you Wife, what haue you sounded her, what saies she to it?

Moth: I haue, but she will none she thankes ye: Would God that she were married to her graue. 105

Capo: What will she not, doth she not thanke vs, doth she not wexe proud?

Iul: Not proud ye haue, but thankfull that ye haue: Proud can I neuer be of that I hate, But thankfull euen for hate that is ment loue. 110

Capo: Proud and I thanke you, and I thanke you not, And yet not proud. Whats here, chop logicke. Proud me no prouds, nor thanke me no thankes, But fettle your fine ioynts on Thursday next To goe with Paris to Saint Peters Church, 115 Or I will drag you on a hurdle thether. Out you greene sicknes baggage, out you tallow face.

Iu: Good father heare me speake?

She kneeles downe.

Cap: I tell thee what, eyther resolue on thursday next To goe with Paris to Saint Peters Church: 120 Or henceforth neuer looke me in the face. Speake not, reply not, for my fingers ytch. Why wife, we thought that we were scarcely blest That God had sent vs but this onely chyld: But now I see this one is one too much, 125 And that we haue a crosse in hauing her.

Nur: Mary God in heauen blesse her my Lord, You are too blame to rate her so.

Cap. And why my Lady wisedome? hold your tung, Good prudence smatter with your gossips, goe. 130

Nur: Why my Lord I speake no treason.

Cap: Oh goddegodden. Vtter your grauity ouer a gossips boule, For heere wee need it not.

Mo: My lord ye are too hotte. 135

Cap: Gods blessed mother wife it mads me, Day, night, early, late, at home, abroad, Alone, in company, waking or sleeping, Still my care hath beene to see her matcht. And hauing now found out a Gentleman, 140 Of Princely parentage, youthfull, and nobly trainde. Stuft as they say with honorable parts, Proportioned as ones heart coulde wish a man: And then to haue a wretched whyning foole, A puling mammet in her fortunes tender, 145 To say I cannot loue, I am too young, I pray you pardon mee? But if you cannot wedde Ile pardon you. Graze where you will, you shall not house with me. Looke to it, thinke out, I doe not vse to iest. I tell yee what, Thursday is neere, 150 Lay hand on heart, aduise, bethinke your selfe, If you be mine, Ile giue you to my frend: If not, hang, drowne, starue, beg, Dye in the streetes: for by my Soule Ile neuer more acknowledge thee, 155 Nor what I haue shall euer doe thee good, Thinke ont, looke toot, I doe not vse to iest. Exit.

Iul: Is there no pitty hanging in the cloudes, That lookes into the bottom of my woes? I doe beseech you Madame, cast me not away, 160 Defer this mariage for a day or two, Or if you cannot, make my mariage bed In that dimme monument where Tybalt lyes.

Moth: Nay be assured I will not speake a word. Do what thou wilt for I haue done with thee. Exit. 165

Iul: Ah Nurse what comfort? what counsell canst thou giue me.

Nur: Now trust me Madame, I know not what to say: Your Romeo he is banisht, and all the world to nothing He neuer dares returne to challendge you. Now I thinke good you marry with this County, Oh he is a gallant Gentleman, R_omeo_ is but a dishclout In respect of him. I promise you I thinke you happy in this second match. As for your husband he is dead: Or twere as good he were, for you haue no vse of him. 175

Iul: Speakst thou this from thy heart?

Nur: I and from my soule, or els beshrew them both.

Iul: Amen.

Nur: What say you Madame?

Iul: Well, thou hast comforted me wondrous much, 180 I pray thee goe thy waies vnto my mother Tell her I am gone hauing displeasde my Father. To Fryer Laurence Cell to confesse me, And to be absolu'd.

Nur: I will, and this is wisely done. 185

She lookes after Nurse.

Iul: Auncient damnation, O most cursed fiend. Is it more sinne to wish me thus forsworne, Or to dispraise him with the selfe same tongue That thou hast praisde him with aboue compare So many thousand times? Goe Counsellor, 190 Thou and my bosom henceforth shalbe twaine. Ile to the Fryer to know his remedy, If all faile els, I haue the power to dye.

Exit.

[Sidenote: [SC. XVI.]]

Enter Fryer and Paris.

Fr: On Thursday say ye: the time is very short,

Par: My Father Capolet will haue it so, And I am nothing slacke to slow his hast.

Fr: You say you doe not know the Ladies minde? Vneuen is the course, I like it not. 5

Par: Immoderately she weepes for Tybalts death, And therefore haue I little talkt of loue. For Venus smiles not in a house of teares, Now Sir, her father thinkes it daungerous: That she doth giue her sorrow so much sway. 10 And in his wisedome hasts our mariage, To stop the inundation of her teares. Which too much minded by her selfe alone May be put from her by societie. Now doe ye know the reason of this hast. 15

Fr: I would I knew not why it should be slowd.

Enter Paris.

Heere comes the lady to my cell,

Par: Welcome my loue, my Lady and my wife:

Iu: That may be sir, when I may be a wife,

Par: That may be, must be loue, on thursday next. 20

Iu: What must be shalbe.

Fr: Thats a certaine text.

Par: What come ye to confession to this Fryer.

Iu: To tell you that were to confesse to you.

Par: Do not deny to him that you loue me. 25

Iul: I will confesse to you that I loue him,

Par: So I am sure you will that you loue me.

Iu: And if I doe, it wilbe of more price, Being spoke behinde your backe, than to your face.

Par: Poore soule that face is much abus'd with teares. 30

Iu: The teares haue got small victory by that, For it was bad enough before their spite.

Par: Thou wrongst it more than teares by that report.

Iu: That is no wrong sir, that is a truth: And what I spake I spake it to my face. 35

Par: Thy face is mine and thou hast slaundred it.

Iu: It may be so, for it is not mine owne. Are you at leasure holy Father now: Or shall I come to you at euening Masse?

Fr: My leasure serues me pensive daughter now. 40 My Lord we must entreate the time alone.

Par: God sheild I should disturbe deuotion, Iuliet farwell, and keep this holy kisse.

Exit Paris.

Iu: Goe shut the doore and when thou hast done so, Come weepe with me that am past cure, past help, 45

Fr: Ah Iuliet I already know thy griefe, I heare thou must and nothing may proroge it, On Thursday next be married to the Countie.

Iul: Tell me not Frier that thou hearst of it, Vnlesse thou tell me how we may preuent it. 50 Giue me some sudden counsell: els behold Twixt my extreames and me, this bloodie Knife Shall play the Vmpeere, arbitrating that Which the Commission of thy yeares and arte Could to no issue of true honour bring. 55 Speake not, be briefe: for I desire to die, If what thou speakst, speake not of remedie.

Fr: Stay Juliet, I doo spie a kinde of hope, Which craues as desperate an execution, As that is desperate we would preuent. If rather than to marrie Countie Paris Thou hast the strength or will to slay thy selfe, Tis not vnlike that thou wilt vndertake A thing like death to chyde away this shame, Thou coapst with death it selfe to flye from blame. 65 And if thou doost, Ile giue thee remedie.

Jul: Oh bid me leape (rather than marrie Paris) From off the battlements of yonder tower: Or chaine me to some steepie mountaines top, Where roaring Beares and sauage Lions are: 70 Or shut me nightly in a Charnell-house, With reekie shankes, and yeolow chaples sculls: Or lay me in tombe with one new dead: Things that to heare them namde haue made me tremble; And I will doo it without feare or doubt, 75 To keep my selfe a faithfull vnstaind Wife To my deere Lord, my deerest Romeo.

Fr: Hold Iuliet, hie thee home, get thee to bed, Let not thy Nurse lye with thee in thy Chamber: And when thou art alone, take thou this Violl, 80 And this distilled Liquor drinke thou off: When presently through all thy veynes shall run A dull and heauie slumber, which shall seaze Each vitall spirit: for no Pulse shall keepe His naturall progresse, but surcease to beate: 85 No signe of breath shall testifie thou liust. And in this borrowed likenes of shrunke death, Thou shall remaine full two and fortie houres. And when thou art laid in thy Kindreds Vault, Ile send in hast to Mantua to thy Lord, 90 And he shall come and take thee from thy graue.

Iul: Frier I goe, be sure thou send for my deare Romeo.

Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. XVII.]]

Enter olde Capolet, his Wife, Nurse, and Seruingman.

Capo: Where are you sirra?

Ser: Heere forsooth.

Capo: Goe, prouide me twentie cunning Cookes.

Ser: I warrant you Sir, let me alone for that. Ile knowe them by licking their fingers. 5

Capo: How canst thou know them so?

Ser: Ah sir, tis an ill Cooke cannot licke his owne fingers.

Capo: Well get you gone.

Exit Seruingman.

But wheres this Head-strong?

Moth: Shees gone (my Lord) to Frier Laurence Cell To be confest.

Capo: Ah, he may hap to doo some good of her, A headstrong selfewild harlotrie it is.

Enter Iuliet.

Moth: See here she commeth from Confession, 15

Capo: How now my Head-strong, where haue you bin gadding?

Iul: Where I haue learned to repent the sin Of froward wilfull opposition Gainst you and your behests, and am enioynd 20 By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, And craue remission of so foule a fact.

She kneeles downe.

Moth: Why thats well said.

Capo: Now before God this holy reuerent Frier All our whole Citie is much bound vnto. 25 Goe tell the Countie presently of this, For I will haue this knot knit vp to morrow.

Jul: Nurse, will you go with me to my Closet, To sort such things as shall be requisite Against to morrrow, 30

Moth: I pree thee doo, good Nurse goe in with her, Helpe her to sort Tyres, Rebatoes, Chaines, And I will come vnto you presently,

Nur: Come sweet hart, shall we goe:

Iul: I pree thee let vs. 35

Exeunt Nurse and Iuliet.

Moth: Me thinks on Thursday would be time enough.

Capo: I say I will haue this dispatcht to morrow, Goe one and certefie the Count thereof.

Moth: I pray my Lord, let it be Thursday.

Capo: I say to morrow while shees in the mood. 40

Moth: We shall be short in our prouision.

Capo: Let me alone for that, goe get you in, Now before God my heart is passing light, To see her thus conformed to our will. Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. XVIII.]]

Enter Nurse, Iuliet.

Nur: Come, come, what need you anie thing else?

Iul: Nothing good Nurse, but leaue me to my selfe: For I doo meane to lye alone to night.

Nur: Well theres a cleane smocke vnder your pillow, and so good night. Exit.

Enter Mother.

Moth: What are you busie, doo you need my helpe?

Iul: No Madame, I desire to lye alone, For I haue manie things to thinke vpon.

Moth: Well then good night, be stirring Iuliet, The Countie will be earlie here to morrow. Exit. 10

Iul: Farewell, God knowes when wee shall meete againe. Ah, I doo take a fearfull thing in hand. What if this Potion should not worke at all. Must I of force be married to the Countie? This shall forbid it. Knife, lye thou there. 15 What if the Frier should giue me this drinke To poyson mee, for feare I should disclose Our former marriage? Ah, I wrong him much, He is a holy and religious Man: I will not entertaine so bad a thought. 20 What if I should be stifled in the Toomb? Awake an houre before the appointed time: Ah then I feare I shall be lunaticke, And playing with my dead forefathers bones, Dash out my franticke braines. Me thinkes I see 25 My Cosin Tybalt weltring in his bloud, Seeking for Romeo: stay Tybalt stay. Romeo I come, this doe I drinke to thee.

She fals vpon her bed within the Curtaines.

[Sidenote: [SC. XIX.]]

Enter Nurse with hearbs, Mother.

Moth: Thats well said Nurse, set all in redines, The Countie will be heere immediatly.

Enter Oldeman.

Cap: Make hast, make hast, for it is almost day, The Curfewe bell hath rung, t'is foure a clocke, Looke to your bakt meates good Angelica.

Nur: Goe get you to bed you cotqueane. I faith you will be sicke anone.

Cap: I warrant thee Nurse I haue ere now watcht all night, and haue taken no harme at all.

Moth: I you haue beene a mouse hunt in your time. 10

Enter Seruingman with Logs & Coales.

Cap: A Ielous hood, a Ielous hood: How now sirra? What haue you there?

Ser: Forsooth Logs.

Cap: Goe, goe choose dryer. Will will tell thee where thou shalt fetch them. 15

Ser: Nay I warrant let me alone, I haue a heade I troe to choose a Log.

Exit.

Cap: Well goe thy way, thou shalt be logger head. Come, come, make hast call vp your daughter, The Countie will be heere with musicke straight. 20 Gods me hees come, Nurse call vp my daughter.

Nur: Goe, get you gone. What lambe, what Lady birde? fast I warrant. What Iuliet? well, let the County take you in your bed: yee sleepe for a weeke now, but the next night, the Countie Paris hath set vp his rest that you shal rest 25 but little. What lambe I say, fast still: what Lady, Loue, whatbride, what Iuliet? Gods me how sound she sleeps? Nay then I see I must wake you indeed. Whats heere, laide on your bed, drest in your cloathes and down, ah me, alack the day, some Aqua vitæ hoe. 30

Enter Mother.

Moth: How now whats the matter?

Nur: Alack the day, shees dead, shees dead, shees dead.

Moth: Accurst, vnhappy, miserable time.

Enter Oldeman.

Cap: Come, come, make hast, wheres my daughter?

Moth: Ah shees dead, shees dead. 35

Cap: Stay, let me see, all pale and wan. Accursed time, vnfortunate olde man.

Enter Fryer and Paris.

Par: What is the bride ready to goe to Church?

Cap: Ready to goe, but neuer to returne. O Sonne the night before thy wedding day, 40 Hath Death laine with thy bride, flower as she is, Deflowerd by him, see, where she lyes, Death is my Sonne in Law, to him I giue all that I haue,

Par: Haue I thought long to see this mornings face, And doth it now present such prodegies? 45 Accurst, vnhappy, miserable man, Forlorne, forsaken, destitute I am: Borne to the world to be a slaue in it. Distrest, remediles, and vnfortunate. O heauens, O nature, wherefore did you make me, 50 To liue so vile, so wretched as I shall.

Cap: O heere she lies that was our hope, our ioy, And being dead, dead sorrow nips vs all.

All at once cry out and wring their hands.

All cry: And all our ioy, and all our hope is dead, Dead, lost, vndone, absented, wholy fled. 55

Cap: Cruel, vniust, impartiall destinies, Why to this day haue you preseru'd my life? To see my hope, my stay, my ioy, my life, Depriude of sence, of life, of all by death, Cruell, vniust, impartiall destinies. 60

Cap: O sad fac'd sorrow map of misery, Why this sad time haue I desird to see. This day, this vniust, this impartiall day Wherein I hop'd to see my comfort full, To be depriude by suddaine destinie. 65

Moth: O woe, alacke, distrest, why should I liue? To see this day, this miserable day. Alacke the time that euer I was borne. To be partaker of this destinie. Alacke the day, alacke and welladay. 70

Fr: O peace for shame, if not for charity. Your daughter liues in peace and happines, And it is vaine to wish it otherwise. Come sticke your Rosemary in this dead coarse, And as the custome of our Country is, 75 In all her best and sumptuous ornaments, Conuay her where her Ancestors lie tomb'd,

Cap: Let it be so, come wofull sorrow mates, Let vs together taste this bitter fate.

They all but the Nurse goe foorth, casting Rosemary on her and shutting the Curtens.

Enter Musitions.

Nur: Put vp, put vp, this is a wofull case. Exit. 80

1. I by my troth Mistresse is it, it had need be mended.

Enter Seruingman.

Ser: Alack alack what shal I doe, come Fidlers play me some mery dumpe.

1. A sir, this is no time to play.

Ser: You will not then? 85

1. No marry will wee.

Ser: Then will I giue it you, and soundly to.

1. What will you giue vs?

Ser: The fidler, Ile re you, Ile fa you, Ile sol you.

1. If you re vs and fa vs, we will note you. 90

Ser: I will put vp my Iron dagger, and beate you with my wodden wit. Come on Simon found Pot, Ile pose you,

1. Lets heare.

Ser: When griping griefe the heart doth wound, And dolefull dumps the minde oppresse: 95 Then musique with her siluer sound, Why siluer sound? Why siluer sound?

1. I thinke because musicke hath a sweet sound.

Ser: Pretie, what say you Mathew minikine?

2. I thinke because Musitions sound for siluer. 100

Ser: Prettie too: come, what say you?

3. I say nothing.

Ser: I thinke so, Ile speake for you because you are the Singer. I saye Siluer sound, because such Fellowes as you haue sildome Golde for sounding. Farewell Fidlers, 105 farewell. Exit.

1. Farewell and be hangd: come lets goe. Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. XX.]]

Enter Romeo.

Rom: If I may trust the flattering Eye of Sleepe, My Dreame presagde some good euent to come. My bosome Lord sits chearfull in his throne, And I am comforted with pleasing dreames. Me thought I was this night alreadie dead: 5 (Strange dreames that giue a dead man leaue to thinke) And that my Ladie Iuliet came to me, And breathd such life with kisses in my lips, That I reuiude and was an Emperour.

Enter Balthasar his man booted.

Newes from Verona. How now Balthasar, 10 How doth my Ladie? Is my Father well? How fares my Juliet? that I aske againe: If she be well, then nothing can be ill.

Balt: Then nothing can be ill, for she is well, Her bodie sleepes in Capels Monument, 15 And her immortall parts with Angels dwell. Pardon me Sir, that am the Messenger of such bad tidings.

Rom: Is it euen so? then I defie my Starres. Goe get me incke and paper, hyre post horse, I will not stay in Mantua to night. 20

Balt: Pardon me Sir, I will not leaue you thus, Your lookes are dangerous and full of feare: I dare not, nor I will not leaue you yet.

Rom: Doo as I bid thee, get me incke and paper, And hyre those horse: stay not I say. 25

Exit Balthasar.

Well Iuliet, I will lye with thee to night. Lets see for meanes. As I doo remember Here dwells a Pothecarie whom oft I noted As I past by, whose needie shop is stufft With beggerly accounts of emptie boxes: 30 And in the same an Aligarta hangs, Olde endes of packthred, and cakes of Roses, Are thinly strewed to make vp a show. Him as I noted, thus with my selfe I thought: And if a man should need a poyson now, 35 (Whose present sale is death in Mantua) Here he might buy it. This thought of mine Did but forerunne my need: and here about he dwels. Being Holiday the Beggers shop is shut. What ho Apothecarie, come forth I say. 40

Enter Apothecarie.

Apo: Who calls, what would you sir?

Rom: Heeres twentie duckates, Giue me a dram of some such speeding geere, As will dispatch the wearie takers life, As suddenly as powder being fierd 45 From forth a Cannons mouth.

Apo: Such drugs I haue I must of force confesse, But yet the law is death to those that sell them.

Rom: Art thou so bare and full of pouertie, And doost thou feare to violate the Law? 50 The Law is not thy frend, nor the Lawes frend, And therefore make no conscience of the law: Vpon thy backe hangs ragged Miserie, And starued Famine dwelleth in thy cheekes.

Apo: My pouertie but not my will consents. 55

Rom: I pay thy pouertie, but not thy will.

Apo: Hold take you this, and put it in anie liquid thing you will, and it will serue had you the liues of twenty men.

Rom: Hold, take this gold, worse poyson to mens soules Than this which thou hast giuen me. Goe hye thee hence, 60 Goe buy the cloathes, and get thee into flesh. Come cordiall and not poyson, goe with mee To Iuliets Graue: for there mvst I vse thee. Exeunt.

[Sidenote: [SC. XXI.]]

Enter Frier Iohn.

John: What Frier Laurence, Brother, ho?

Laur: This same should be the voyce of Frier Iohn. What newes from Mantua, what will Romeo come?

Iohn: Going to seeke a barefoote Brother out, One of our order to associate mee, 5 Here in this Cittie visiting the sick, Whereas the infectious pestilence remaind: And being by the Searchers of the Towne Found and examinde, we were both shut vp.

Laur: Who bare my letters then to Romeo? 10

Iohn: I haue them still, and here they are.

Laur: Now by my holy Order, The letters were not nice, but of great weight. Goe get thee hence, and get me presently A spade and mattocke. 15

Iohn: Well I will presently go fetch thee them. Exit.

Laur: Now must I to the Monument alone, Least that the Ladie should before I come Be wakde from sleepe. I will hye To free her from that Tombe of miserie. Exit. 20

[Sidenote: [SC. XXII.]]

Enter Countie Paris and his Page with flowers and sweete water.

Par: Put out the torch, and lye thee all along Vnder this Ew-tree, keeping thine eare close to the hollow ground. And if thou heare one tread within this Churchyard, Staight giue me notice. 5

Boy: I will my Lord.

Paris strewes the Tomb with flowers.

Par: Sweete Flower, with flowers I strew thy Bridale bed: Sweete Tombe that in thy circuite dost containe, The perfect modell of eternitie: Faire Iuliet that with Angells dost remaine, 10 Accept this latest fauour at my hands, That liuing honourd thee, and being dead With funerall praises doo adorne thy Tombe.

Boy whistles and calls. My Lord.

Enter Romeo and Balthasar, with a torch, a mattocke, and a crow of yron.

Par: The boy giues warning, something doth approach. 15 What cursed foote wanders this was to night, To stay my obsequies and true loues rites? What with a torch, muffle me night a while.

Rom: Giue mee this mattocke, and this wrentching Iron. And take these letters, early in the morning, 20 See thou deliuer them to my Lord and Father. So get thee gone and trouble me no more. Why I descend into this bed of death, Is partly to behold my Ladies face, But chiefly to take from her dead finger, 25 A precious ring which I must vse In deare imployment: but if thou wilt stay, Further to prie in what I vndertake, By heauen Ile teare thee ioynt by ioynt, And strewe thys hungry churchyard with thy lims 30 The time and my intents are sauage, wilde.

Balt: Well, Ile be gone and not trouble you.

Rom: So shalt thou win my fauour, take thou this, Commend me to my Father, farwell good fellow.

Balt: Yet for all this will I not part from hence. 35

Romeo opens the tombe.

Rom: Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorde with the dearest morsell of the earth. Thus I enforce thy rotten iawes to ope.

Par: This is that banisht haughtie Mountague, That murderd my loues cosen, I will apprehend him. 40 Stop thy vnhallowed toyle vile Mountague. Can vengeance be pursued further then death? I doe attach thee as a fellon heere. The Law condemnes thee, therefore thou must dye,

Rom: I must indeed, and therefore came I hither, 45 Good youth be gone, tempt not a desperate man. Heape not another sinne vpon my head By sheding of thy bloud, I doe protest I loue thee better then I loue my selfe: For I come hyther armde against my selfe, 50

Par: I doe defie thy coniurations: And doe attach thee as a fellon heere.

Rom: What dost thou tempt me, then haue at thee boy.

They fight.

Boy: O Lord they fight, I will goe call the watch.

Par: Ah I am slaine, if thou be mercifull 55 Open the tombe, lay me with Iuliet.

Rom: Yfaith I will, let me peruse this face, Mercutios kinsman, noble County Paris? What said my man, when my betossed soule Did not regard him as we past a long. Did he not say Paris should have maried Iuliet? eyther he said so, or I dreamd it so. But I will satisfie thy last request, For thou hast prizd thy loue aboue thy life. Death lye thou there, by a dead man interd, 65 How oft have many at the houre of death Beene blith and pleasant? which their keepers call A lightning before death But how may I Call this a lightning. Ah deare Iuliet, How well thy beauty doth become this graue? 70 O I beleeue that vnsubstanciall death, Is amorous, and doth court my loue. Therefore will I, O heere, O euer heere, Set vp my euerlasting rest With wormes, that are thy chamber mayds. 75 Come desperate Pilot now at once runne on The dashing rockes thy sea-sicke weary barge. Heers to my loue. O true Apothecary: Thy drugs are swift: thus with a kisse I dye. Falls.

Enter Fryer with a Lanthorne.

How oft to night haue these my aged feete 80 Stumbled at graues as I did passe along. Whose there?

Man. A frend and one that knowes you well.

Fr: Who is it that consorts so late the dead, What light is yon? if I be not deceiued, 85 Me thinkes it burnes in Capels monument?

Man. It doth so holy Sir, and there is one That loues you dearly.

Fr. Who is it?

Man: Romeo. 90

Fr: How long hath he beene there?

Man: Full halfe an houre and more.

Fr: Goe with me thether.

Man: I dare not sir, he knowes not I am heere: On paine of death he chargde me to be gone, 95 And not for to disturbe him in his enterprize.

Fr: Then must I goe: my minde presageth ill.

Fryer stoops and lookes on the blood and weapons.

What bloud is this that staines the entrance Of this marble stony monument? What meanes these maisterles and goory weapons? Ah me I doubt, whose heere? what Romeo dead? Who and Paris too? what vnluckie houre Is accessary to so foule a sinne?

Iuliet rises.

The Lady sturres.[1595] Ah comfortable Fryer. 105 I doe remember well where I should be, And what we talkt of: but yet I cannot see Him for whose sake I vndertooke this hazard.

Fr: Lady come foorth, I heare some noise at hand, We shall be taken, Paris he is slaine, 110 And Romeo dead: and if we heere be tane We shall be thought to be as accessarie. I will prouide for you in some close Nunery.

Iul: Ah leaue me, leaue me, I will not from hence.

Fr: I heare some noise, I dare not stay, come, come. 115

Iul: Goe get thee gone. Whats heere a cup closde in my louers hands? Ah churle drinke all, and leaue no drop for me.

Enter watch.

Watch: This way, this way.

Iul: I, noise? then must I be resolute. 120 O happy dagger thou shalt end my feare, Rest in my bosome, thus I come to thee.

She stabs herselfe and falles.

Enter watch.

Cap: Come looke about, what weapons haue we heere? See frends where Iuliet two daies buried, New bleeding wounded, search and see who's neare, 125 Attach and bring them to vs presently.

Enter one with the Fryer.

1. Captaine heers a Fryer with tooles about him, Fitte to ope a tombe.

Cap: A great suspition, keep him safe.

Enter one with Romeos man.

1. Heeres Romeos Man. 130

Capt: Keepe him to be examinde.

Enter Prince with others.

Prin: What early mischiefe calls vs vp so soone.

Capt: O noble Prince, see here Where Juliet that hath lyen intoombd two dayes, Warme and fresh bleeding, Romeo and Countie Paris 135 Likewise newly slaine.

Prin: Search seeke about to finde the murderers.

Enter olde Capolet and his Wife.

Capo: What rumor's this that is so early vp?

Moth: The people in the streetes crie Romeo, And some on Iuliet: as if they alone 140 Had been the cause of such a mutinie.

Capo: See Wife, this dagger hath mistooke: For (loe) the backe is emptie of yong Mountague, And it is sheathed in our Daughters breast.

Enter olde Montague.

Prin: Come Mountague, for thou art early vp, 145 To see thy Sonne and Heire more early downe.

Mount: Dread Souereigne, my Wife is dead to night, And yong Benuolio is deceased too: What further mischiefe can there yet be found?

Prin: First come and see, then speake. 150

Mount: O thou vntaught, what manners is in this To presse before thy Father to a graue.

Prin: Come seale your mouthes of outrage for a while, And let vs seeke to finde the Authors out Of such a hainous and seld seene mischaunce. 155 Bring forth the parties in suspition.

Fr: I am the greatest able to doo least. Most worthie Prince, heare me but speake the truth. And Ile informe you how these things fell out. Juliet here slaine was married to that Romeo, 160 Without her Fathers or her Mothers grant: The Nurse was priuie to the marriage. The balefull day of this vnhappie marriage, Was Tybalts doomesday: for which Romeo Was banished from hence to Mantua. 165 He gone, her Father sought by foule constraint To marrie her to Paris: But her Soule (Loathing a second Contract) did refuse To giue consent; and therefore did she vrge me Either to finde a meanes she might auoyd 170 What so her Father sought to force her too: Or els all desperately she threatned Euen in my presence to dispatch her selfe. Then did I giue her, (tutord by mine arte) A potion that should make her seeme as dead: 175 And told her that I would with all post speed Send hence to Mantua for her Romeo, That he might come and take her from the Toombe. But he that had my Letters (Frier John) Seeking a Brother to associate him, 180 Whereas the sicke infection remaind, Was stayed by the Searchers of the Towne, But Romeo vnderstanding by his man, That Iuliet was deceasde, returnde in post Vnto Verona for to see his loue. 185 What after happened touching Paris death, Or Romeos is to me vnknowne at all. But when I came to take the Lady hence, I found them dead, and she awakt from sleep: Whom faine I would haue taken from the tombe, 190 Which she refused seeing R_omeo_ dead. Anone I heard the watch and then I fled, What after happened I am ignorant of. And if in this ought haue miscaried. By me, or by my meanes let my old life 195 Be sacrificd some houre before his time. To the most strickest rigor of the Law.

Pry: We still haue knowne thee for a holy man, Wheres Romeos man, what can he say in this?

Balth: I brought my maister word that shee was dead, 200 And then he poasted straight from Mantua, Vnto this Toombe. These Letters he deliuered me, Charging me early giue them to his Father.

Prin: Lets see the Letters, I will read them ouer. Where is the Counties Boy that calld the Watch? 205

Boy: I brought my Master vnto Juliets graue, But one approaching, straight I calld my Master. At last they fought, I ran to call the Watch. And this is all that I can say or know.

Prin: These letters doe make good the Fryers wordes, 210 Come Capolet, and come olde Mountagewe. Where are these enemies? see what hate hath done.

Cap: Come brother Mountague giue me thy hand, There is my daughters dowry: for now no more Can I bestowe on her, thats all I haue. 215

Moun: But I will giue them more, I will erect Her statue of pure golde: That while Verona by that name is knowne. There shall no statue of such price be set, As that of Romeos loued Iuliet. 220

Cap: As rich shall Romeo by his Lady lie. Poore Sacrifices to our Enmitie.

Prin: A gloomie peace this day doth with it bring. Come, let vs hence, To haue more talke of these sad things. 225 Some shall be pardoned and some punished: For nere was heard a Storie of more woe, Than this of Iuliet and her Romeo.

FINIS.

FOOTNOTES:

[1594] Watch: is omitted in the text but 'Watch: Vp' is the catchword of the previous page.

[1595] Here again the stage direction is omitted, but 'Iul:' is the catchword of the previous page.

TIMON OF ATHENS.

Dramatis Personæ

TIMON, a noble Athenian. LUCIUS, } LUCULLUS, } flattering lords. SEMPRONIUS, } VENTIDIUS, one of Timon's false friends. ALCIBIADES, an Athenian captain. APEMANTUS, a churlish philosopher. FLAVIUS, steward to Timon. Poet, Painter, Jeweller, and Merchant. An old Athenian. FLAMINIUS, } LUCILIUS, } servants to Timon. SERVILIUS, } CAPHIS, } PHILOTUS, } servants to Timon's creditors and to the TITUS, } Lords. HORTENSIUS, } And others, } A Page. A Fool. Three Strangers.

PHRYNIA, } mistresses to Alcibiades. TIMANDRA, }

Cupid and Amazons in the mask.

Other Lords, Senators, Officers, Banditti, and Attendants.

SCENE: Athens, and the neighbouring woods.

THE LIFE OF

TIMON OF ATHENS.

FOOTNOTES:

[1596] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.] THE ACTORS NAMES, at the end of the Play in F1 F2 F3, prefixed to the Play in F4. See note (I).

Act I, Scene I — Athens. A hall in Timon's house.[1597]

Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors.[1598]

Poet. Good day, sir.[1599][1600]

Pain. I am glad you're well.[1599]

Poet. I have not seen you long: how goes the world?[1601]

Pain. It wears, sir, as it grows.

Poet. Ay, that's well known: But what particular rarity? what strange,[1602] Which manifold record not matches? See,[1603][1604] 5 Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power[1604] Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.[1605]

Pain. I know them both; th' other's a jeweller.

Mer. O, 'tis a worthy lord!

Jew. Nay, that's most fix'd.

Mer. A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were,[1606] 10 To an untirable and continuate goodness:[1607] He passes.[1607][1608]

Jew. I have a jewel here--[1609]

Mer. O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir?[1610]

Jew. If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- 15

Poet. [Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have praised the vile,[1611] It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.'

Mer. [Looking on the jewel] 'Tis a good form.[1612]

Jew. And rich: here is a water, look ye.[1613] 20

Pain. You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication[1614][1615] To the great lord.[1614][1616]

Poet. A thing slipp'd idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes[1617] From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame[1618] 25 Provokes itself, and, like the current, flies[1619] Each bound it chafes. What have you there?[1619][1620][1621]

Pain. A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?[1621][1622]

Poet. Upon the heels of my presentment, sir.[1621] Let's see your piece.[1621] 30

Pain. 'Tis a good piece.[1621][1623]

Poet. So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent.[1624]

Pain. Indifferent.

Poet. Admirable: how this grace[1625] Speaks his own standing! what a mental power[1625] This eye shoots forth! how big imagination 35 Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.

Pain. It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is't good?

Poet. I will say of it,[1626] It tutors nature: artificial strife 40 Lives in these touches, livelier than life.[1627]

Enter certain Senators, and pass over.

Pain. How this lord is follow'd![1628]

Poet. The senators of Athens: happy man![1629]

Pain. Look, moe![1630]

Poet. You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. 45 I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug[1631] With amplest entertainment: my free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself[1632] In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice[1633] 50 Infects one comma in the course I hold;[1634] But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,[1635] Leaving no tract behind.[1636]

Pain. How shall I understand you?

Poet. I will unbolt to you.[1637] You see how all conditions, how all minds, 55 As well of glib and slippery creatures as[1638] Of grave and austere quality, tender down Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune,[1639] Upon his good and gracious nature hanging, Subdues and properties to his love and tendance 60 All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself: even he drops down[1640] The knee before him, and returns in peace Most rich in Timon's nod.

Pain. I saw them speak together.[1641] 65

Poet. Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill[1642] Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount[1643] Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states: amongst them all, 70 Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame,[1644] Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants[1645] Translates his rivals.

Pain. 'Tis conceived to scope.[1646] 75 This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon'd from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well express'd In our condition.

Poet. Nay, sir, but hear me on.[1647] 80 All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment[1648] Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance,[1649] Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear,[1650] Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him 85 Drink the free air.

Pain. Ay, marry, what of these?

Poet. When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top[1651] Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down,[1652] 90 Not one accompanying his declining foot.

Pain. 'Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can show,[1653] That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's[1654] More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well 95 To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen[1655] The foot above the head.

Trumpets sound. Enter LORD TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following.[1656]

Tim. Imprison'd is he, say you?

Mess. Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt;[1657] His means most short, his creditors most strait: Your honourable letter he desires 100 To those have shut him up; which failing,[1658] Periods his comfort.

Tim. Noble Ventidius! Well,[1659] I am not of that feather to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him[1660] A gentleman that well deserves a help: 105 Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt and free him.

Mess. Your lordship ever binds him.[1657][1661]

Tim. Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; And, being enfranchised, bid him come to me: 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, 110 But to support him after. Fare you well.

Mess. All happiness to your honour![1657][1662] [Exit.

Enter an old Athenian.

Old Ath. Lord Timon, hear me speak.

Tim. Freely, good father.

Old Ath. Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.

Tim. I have so: what of him? 115

Old Ath. Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.[1663]

Tim. Attends he here, or no? Lucilius![1664]

Luc. Here, at your lordship's service.[1665]

Old Ath. This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature,[1666] By night frequents my house. I am a man 120 That from my first have been inclined to thrift, And my estate deserves an heir more raised Than one which holds a trencher.

Tim. Well, what further?

Old Ath. One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: 125 The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride,[1667] And I have bred her at my dearest cost In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord,[1668] Join with me to forbid him her resort; 130 Myself have spoke in vain.

Tim. The man is honest.[1669]

Old Ath. Therefore he will be, Timon:[1669][1670] His honesty rewards him in itself;[1669] It must not bear my daughter.

Tim. Does she love him?

Old Ath. She is young and apt:[1671] 135 Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity's in youth.[1672]

Tim. [To Lucilius] Love you the maid?[1673]

Luc. Ay, my good lord; and she accepts of it.

Old Ath. If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose[1674] 140 Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.[1675]

Tim. How shall she be endow'd, If she be mated with an equal husband?[1676]

Old Ath. Three talents on the present; in future, all.

Tim. This gentleman of mine hath served me long:[1677] 145 To build his fortune I will strain a little, For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.

Old Ath. Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. 150

Tim. My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.[1678]

Luc. Humbly I thank your lordship: never may That state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you![1679]

[Exeunt Lucilius and Old Athenian.[1680]

Poet. Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship![1681] 155

Tim. I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend?

Pain. A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.[1682]

Tim. Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man;[1683] 160 For since dishonour traffics with man's nature, He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are[1684] Even such as they give out. I like your work, And you shall find I like it: wait attendance Till you hear further from me.

Pain. The gods preserve ye![1685] 165

Tim. Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand;[1686] We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Hath suffer'd under praise.

Jew. What, my lord! dispraise?[1687]

Tim. A mere satiety of commendations.[1688] If I should pay you for 't as 'tis extoll'd, 170 It would unclew me quite.[1689]

Jew. My lord, 'tis rated As those which sell would give: but you well know, Things of like value, differing in the owners, Are prized by their masters: believe 't, dear lord,[1690] You mend the jewel by the wearing it.[1691] 175

Tim. Well mock'd.

Mer. No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him.

Tim. Look, who comes here: will you be chid?[1692]

Enter APEMANTUS.[1693]

Jew. We'll bear, with your lordship.

Mer. He'll spare none.[1694] 180

Tim. Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus![1695]

Apem. Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow;[1696] When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest.[1697]

Tim. Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not.

Apem. Are they not Athenians?[1698] 185

Tim. Yes.

Apem. Then I repent not.

Jew. You know me, Apemantus?[1699]

Apem. Thou know'st I do; I call'd thee by thy name.

Tim. Thou art proud, Apemantus.[1700] 190

Apem. Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.[1701]

Tim. Whither art going?[1702]

Apem. To knock out an honest Athenian's brains.

Tim. That's a deed thou'lt die for.[1703]

Apem. Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. 195

Tim. How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?[1704]

Apem. The best, for the innocence.[1705]

Tim. Wrought he not well that painted it?[1706]

Apem. He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he's but a filthy piece of work. 200

Pain. You're a dog.[1707]

Apem. Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if[1708] I be a dog?

Tim. Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?

Apem. No; I eat not lords. 205

Tim. An thou shouldst, thou'ldst anger ladies.[1709]

Apem. O, they eat lords; so they come by great[1710] bellies.[1710]

Tim. That's a lascivious apprehension.

Apem. So thou apprehend'st it: take it for thy labour.[1711] 210

Tim. How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?

Apem. Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost[1712] a man a doit.

Tim. What dost thou think 'tis worth?

Apem. Not worth my thinking. How now, poet![1713] 215

Poet. How now, philosopher!

Apem. Thou liest.

Poet. Art not one?[1714]

Apem. Yes.

Poet. Then I lie not. 220

Apem. Art not a poet?

Poet. Yes.

Apem. Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.[1715]

Poet. That's not feigned; he is so. 225

Apem. Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for[1716] thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!

Tim. What wouldst do then, Apemantus?

Apem. E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with 230 my heart.

Tim. What, thyself?

Apem. Ay.

Tim. Wherefore?

Apem. That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not[1717][1718] 235 thou a merchant?[1718]

Mer. Ay, Apemantus.

Apem. Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!

Mer. If traffic do it, the gods do it.

Apem. Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee![1719] 240

Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger.

Tim. What trumpet's that?[1720]

Mess.'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, All of companionship.

Tim. Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.[1721]

[Exeunt some Attendants.

You must needs dine with me: go not you hence 245 Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done,[1722] Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.[1723]

Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest.[1724]

Most welcome, sir!

Apem. So, so, there![1725][1726] Aches contract and starve your supple joints![1725][1726][1727] That there should be small love 'mongst these sweet knaves,[1725][1728] 250 And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out[1725][1729] Into baboon and monkey.[1725][1729]

Alcib. Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed[1730] Most hungerly on your sight.[1731]

Tim. Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time[1732] 255 In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.[1733]

[Exeunt all but Apemantus.[1734]

Enter two Lords.[1735]

First Lord. What time o' day is't, Apemantus?[1736]

Apem. Time to be honest.

First Lord. That time serves still.[1737]

Apem. The most accursed thou, that still omitt'st it.[1738] 260

Sec. Lord. Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast?[1739]

Apem. Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.

Sec. Lord. Fare thee well, fare thee well.[1740]

Apem. Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.

Sec. Lord. Why, Apemantus? 265

Apem. Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to[1741] give thee none.

First Lord. Hang thyself!

Apem. No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy[1742] requests to thy friend.[1742] 270

Sec. Lord. Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee[1742][1743] hence![1742]

Apem. I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. [Exit.[1744]

First Lord. He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in,[1745][1746] And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes[1745][1747] 275 The very heart of kindness.[1745]

Sec. Lord. He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding 280 All use of quittance.[1748]

First Lord. The noblest mind he carries That ever govern'd man.[1749]

Sec. Lord. Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?[1749]

First Lord. I'll keep you company.[1749][1750] [Exeunt.

Act I, Scene II — A banqueting-room in Timon's house.[1751]

Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; and then enter LORD TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself.[1752]

Ven. Most honour'd Timon,[1753][1754] It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age,[1753] And call him to long peace.[1753] He is gone happy, and has left me rich: Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound 5 To your free heart, I do return those talents, Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help[1755] I derived liberty.

Tim. O, by no means, Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love:[1756] I gave it freely ever; and there's none 10 Can truly say he gives, if he receives: If our betters play at that game, we must not dare[1757][1758] To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair.[1758][1759]

Ven. A noble spirit![1760][1761]

Tim. Nay, my lords, ceremony was but devised at first[1760][1762] 15 To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes,[1760] Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; But where there is true friendship, there needs none. Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes[1763] Than my fortunes to me.[1764] [They sit. 20

First Lord. My lord, we always have confess'd it.[1765]

Apem. Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not?[1766]

Tim. O, Apemantus, you are welcome.[1767]

Apem. No;[1768] You shall not make me welcome:[1768] I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. 25

Tim. Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there[1769] Does not become a man; 'tis much to blame. ey say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond man[1770][1771][1772] is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by himself; for he[1770][1772][1773] does neither affect company, nor is he fit for't indeed.[1770][1774] 30

Apem. Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon:[1775][1776] I come to observe; I give thee warning on't.[1775]

Tim. I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian,[1777][1778] therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; prithee,[1777][1779] let my meat make thee silent.[1777] 35

Apem. I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I[1780][1781] should ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of[1780][1781] men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me to see[1780][1782] so many dip their meat in one man's blood; and all the[1780][1783] madness is, he cheers them up too.[1780][1784] 40 I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: Methinks they should invite them without knives; Good for their meat, and safer for their lives.[1785] There's much example for't; the fellow that sits next him[1786] now, parts bread with him, pledges the breath of him in a[1786][1787] 45 divided draught, is the readiest man to kill him: 't has[1786][1788][1789] been proved. If I were a huge man, I should fear to drink[1786][1789][1790] at meals;[1786] Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes:[1791] Great men should drink with harness on their throats.[1791] 50

Tim. My lord, in heart; and let the health go round.[1792]

Sec. Lord. Let it flow this way, my good lord.[1793]

Apem. Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his[1794] tides well. Those healths will make thee and thy state[1794] look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to be a[1794] 55 sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire:[1794][1795] This and my food are equals; there's no odds:[1794][1796] Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods.[1794][1797]

Apemantus's Grace.

Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; I pray for no man but myself: 60 Grant I may never prove so fond, To trust man on his oath or bond, Or a harlot for her weeping, Or a dog that seems a-sleeping, Or a keeper with my freedom, 65 Or my friends, if I should need 'em. Amen. So fall to't:[1798] Rich men sin, and I eat root. [Eats and drinks.[1799]

Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus![1800]

Tim. Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now.[1801] 70

Alcib. My heart is ever at your service, my lord.

Tim. You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than[1802] a dinner of friends.

Alcib. So they were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no[1803] meat like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast.[1804] 75

Apem. Would all those flatterers were thine enemies,[1805] then, that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em![1806]

First Lord. Might we but have that happiness, my[1807] lord, that you would once use our hearts, whereby we might express some part of our zeals, we should think 80 ourselves for ever perfect.

Tim. O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods themselves have provided that I shall have much help from you:[1808] how had you been my friends else? why have you that charitable[1809][1810] title from thousands, did not you chiefly belong to[1810][1811][1812] 85 my heart? I have told more of you to myself than you can[1812] with modesty speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they were the[1813][1814] most needless creatures living, should we ne'er have use for[1814] 90 'em, and would most resemble sweet instruments hung up[1814][1815] in cases, that keep their sounds to themselves. Why, I have[1816] often wished myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We are born to do benefits: and what better or properer can we call our own than the riches of our friends? O, what 95 a precious comfort 'tis, to have so many, like brothers, commanding one another's fortunes! O joy, e'en made away[1817] ere't can be born! Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks:[1818][1819] to forget their faults, I drink to you.[1819]

Apem. Thou weep'st to make them drink, Timon.[1820] 100

Sec. Lord. Joy had the like conception in our eyes, And at that instant like a babe sprung up.[1793][1821]

Apem. Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard.

Third Lord. I promise you, my lord, you moved me much.

Apem. Much![1822] [Tucket, within. 105

Tim. What means that trump?

Enter a Servant.[1823]

How now!

Serv. Please you, my lord, there are certain ladies most[1824] desirous of admittance.[1824]

Tim. Ladies! what are their wills?

Serv. There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, 110 which bears that office, to signify their pleasures.

Tim. I pray, let them be admitted.[1825]

Enter Cupid.

Cup. Hail to thee, worthy Timon! and to all[1826][1827][1828] That of his bounties taste! The five best senses[1827][1829] Acknowledge thee their patron, and come freely[1827] 115 To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear,[1827] Taste, touch, and smell, pleased from thy table rise;[1827] They only now come but to feast thine eyes.[1827]

Tim. They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance:[1830][1831] Music, make their welcome![1831][1832] [Exit Cupid. 120

First Lord. You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved.[1833]

Music. Re-enter Cupid, with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing.[1834]

Apem. Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way![1835][1836][1837] They dance! they are mad women.[1836][1837][1838] Like madness is the glory of this life,[1837][1839] As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.[1837][1840] 125 We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves,[1837] And spend our flatteries, to drink those men[1837] Upon whose age we void it up again[1837] With poisonous spite and envy.[1837][1841] Who lives, that's not depraved or depraves?[1841][1842] 130 Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves[1841] Of their friends' gift?[1841][1843] I should fear those that dance before me now Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done;[1844] Men shut their doors against a setting sun.[1845] 135

The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease.[1846]

Tim. You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies,[1847] Set a fair fashion on our entertainment,[1848] Which was not half so beautiful and kind; You have added worth unto 't and lustre,[1849] And entertain'd me with mine own device: 140 I am to thank you for 't.[1850]

First Lady. My lord, you take us even at the best.[1851]

Apem. Faith, for the worst is filthy, and would not hold[1852] taking, I doubt me.[1852]

Tim. Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you:[1853][1854] 145 Please you to dispose yourselves.[1853]

All Lad. Most thankfully, my lord.[1855]

[Exeunt Cupid and Ladies.

Tim. Flavius!

Flav. My lord?

Tim. The little casket bring me hither.

Flav. Yes, my lord. [Aside] More jewels yet![1856][1857][1858] 150 There is no crossing him in 's humour;[1857][1859] Else I should tell him--well, i' faith, I should--[1860] When all's spent, he'ld be cross'd then, an he could.[1861] 'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind,[1862] That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind.[1863] [Exit. 155

First Lord. Where be our men?[1864]

Serv. Here, my lord, in readiness.

Sec. Lord. Our horses![1865]

Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket.[1866]

Tim. O my friends,[1867] I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord,[1867][1868] 160 I must entreat you, honour me so much[1867][1869] As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it,[1867][1870] Kind my lord.[1867][1871]

First Lord. I am so far already in your gifts,--[1872]

All. So are we all.[1873] 165

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate[1874][1875] newly alighted and come to visit you.[1875]

Tim. They are fairly welcome.[1876]

Flav. I beseech your honour, vouchsafe me a word; it[1877] does concern you near.[1877] 170

Tim. Near! why, then, another time I'll hear thee: I[1878][1879] prithee, let's be provided to show them entertainment.[1879]

Flav. [Aside] I scarce know how.[1880]

Enter another Servant.

Sec. Serv. May it please your honour, Lord Lucius[1881][1882][1883] Out of his free love hath presented to you[1882][1884] 175 Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver.[1882][1885]

Tim. I shall accept them fairly: let the presents Be worthily entertain'd.

Enter a third Servant.

How now! what news?

Third Serv. Please you, my lord, that honourable gentleman,[1886] Lord Lucullus, entreats your company to-morrow to[1886][1887] 180 hunt with him, and has sent your honour two brace of[1886][1888] greyhounds.[1886]

Tim. I'll hunt with him; and let them be received,[1889] Not without fair reward.[1889]

Flav. [Aside] What will this come to?[1890][1891] He commands us to provide and give great gifts, and all[1891][1892] 185 out of an empty coffer:[1891] Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, To show him what a beggar his heart is, Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state 190 That what he speaks is all in debt, he owes[1893][1894] For every word: he is so kind that he now[1893][1895] Pays interest for't; his land's put to their books.[1893][1896] Well, would I were gently put out of office,[1893] Before I were forced out![1893][1897] 195 Happier is he that has no friend to feed Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. I bleed inwardly for my lord.[1898][1899] [Exit.

Tim. You do yourselves[1899] Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits.[1899] Here, my lord, a trifle of our love.[1899] 200

Sec. Lord. With more than common thanks I will receive[1900][1901] it.[1901]

Third Lord. O, he's the very soul of bounty![1902]

Tim. And now I remember, my lord, you gave good[1903][1904] words the other day of a bay courser I rode on. 'Tis yours,[1903][1905] 205 because you liked it.[1903]

Third Lord. O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord,[1906][1907] in that.[1908]

Tim. You may take my word, my lord; I know, no[1909] man can justly praise, but what he does affect: I weigh[1909] 210 my friend's affection with mine own: I'll tell you true. I'll[1909][1910] call to you.[1909][1911]

All Lords. O, none so welcome.[1907]

Tim. I take all and your several visitations So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give:[1912] 215 Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends,[1912] And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living[1913] Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast 220 Lie in a pitch'd field.

Alcib. Ay, defiled land, my lord.[1914][1915]

First Lord. We are so virtuously bound--[1915][1916]

Tim. And so am I to you.[1915]

Sec. Lord. So infinitely endear'd--[1915][1917][1918] 225

Tim. All to you. Lights, more lights![1918][1919]

First Lord. The best of happiness, honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon![1920][1921]

Tim. Ready for his friends.[1920][1922]

[Exeunt all but Apemantus and Timon.

Apem. What a coil's here![1923][1924] Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums![1924][1925] 230 I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums[1924] That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs:[1924] Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs. Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies.

Tim. Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, 235 I would be good to thee.

Apem. No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too,[1926] there would be none left to rail upon thee; and then thou[1926] wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, Timon, I fear[1926] me thou wilt give away thyself in paper shortly: what[1926][1927] 240 needs these feasts, pomps and vain-glories?[1926][1928]

Tim. Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am[1926][1929] sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come with[1926] better music.[1926] [Exit.

Apem. So: thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not[1930][1931] 245 then: I'll lock thy heaven from thee.[1930][1932] O, that men's ears should be[1930] To counsel deaf, but not to flattery![1930] [Exit.

FOOTNOTES:

[1597] ACT I. SCENE I.] Actus Primus. Scæna Prima. Ff. See note (I).

Athens.] Capell.

A hall in Timon's house.] Rowe.

[1598] Merchant, and others,] Malone. Merchant and divers others, Capell. Merchant, and Mercer, Ff. and Merchant, Johnson.

[1599] Poet. Good.... Poet. I have] Poet. Good day. Pain. Good day, sir. Poet. I am ... well. I have Farmer conj. See note (II).

[1600] Good day] Good day, good day Capell. Good day, good Seymour conj.

I am] Good sir, I'm Singer conj.

you're] y'are F1 F2 F3. ye are F4. you are Capell.

[1601] grows] goes Theobald.

[1602] strange] so strange Rowe.

[1603] Which] That Johnson conj.

[1604] See, Magic] Paint. See! Poet Magick Johnson conj.

[1605] Hath ... merchant.] One line in Pope. Two in Ff.

[1606] A most] om. Seymour conj.

man] om. Capell.

[1607] goodness: He passes.] goodness. Pope (omitting He passes). goodness. He passes-- Theobald. goodness: Indeed, he passes. Seymour conj. goodness, He passes. Staunton.

[1608] passes] surpasses Jackson conj.

[1609] I] Look, I Steevens conj.]

here--] Collier. here: Capell. heere. F1 F2. here. F3 F4.

[1610] for ... sir?] A separate line in Pope.

[1611] [Reciting to himself] Repeating ... Hanmer (Warburton conj.). om. Qq Ff.

[1612] [Looking on the jewel] Pope. om. Qq Ff.

[1613] ye] you Capell.

[1614] You ... lord.] As verse first by Pope. Prose in Ff.

[1615] You are] You're Pope.

are ... dedication] As one line, Seymour conj., ending the previous line at You.

[1616] idly] idlely F1.

[1617] gum, which oozes] Johnson. gowne, which uses F1 F2. gown, which uses F3 F4. gum, which issues Pope.

[1618] struck] F3 F4. stroke F1 F2.

[1619] flies Each] flies; Each Mason conj.

flies ... chafes] flies. Eche (bound) it chafes Becket conj.

[1620] chafes] Theobald. chases Ff.

[1621] Capell, reading with Hanmer in line 28, ends the lines sir ... heels ... piece ... piece.

[1622] When] And when Hanmer.

[1623] 'Tis a good piece] 'Tis a good piece, indeed Steevens conj. It is a goodly piece. Seymour conj.

[1624] Pope ends the line at 'tis.

[1625] grace ... standing] standing ... graces or grace Speaks understanding Johnson conj. Grace Speaks its own standing Mason conj. grace Speaks! 'tis one standing Jackson conj.

[1626] I will] I'll Pope.

[1627] these] those Theobald.

and pass over.] Capell. Omitted in Ff.

[1628] lord is] lord's Steevens (1793).

[1629] man] Theobald. men Ff.

[1630] Look, moe!] Looke moe. Ff. Look, more. Rowe. Look you now, there's more. Seymour conj.

[1631] beneath world] beneath-world Theobald (ed. 2).

[1632] particularly] particular Theobald.

[1633] wax] verse Collier (Collier MS.).

levell'd] leven'd Warburton.

[1634] hold;] Here Keightley marks a lacuna.

[1635] But] It Hanmer.

[1636] tract] track Hanmer.

[1637] I will] I'll Pope.

[1638] creatures] natures Hanmer.

[1639] services] service Pope.

[1640] abhor himself] make himself abhorr'd Hanmer.

[1641] together] om. Steevens conj.

[1642] Sir,] om. Pope.

[1643] Feign'd ... mount] One line in Rowe. Two in Ff.

[1644] Lord] om. Pope.

[1645] present grace] puissant grace Anon. conj.

to present slaves] to peasant slaves S. Walker conj. t' obedient slaves Anon. conj.

[1646] conceived to scope.] Johnson. conceyv'd, to scope Ff. conceiv'd to th' scope. Theobald. conceiv'd, to scope, Warburton. conceiv'd, your scope Heath conj.

[1647] sir,] om. Pope.

[1648] value,] Theobald. valew; F1 F2. value; F3 F4.

[1649] tendance] 'tendance Johnson.

[1650] Rain] Roun (for Round) Delius.

[1651] him] om. Pope.

[1652] hands] F2 F3 F4. hand F1.

slip] Rowe. sit Ff. sink Delius conj.

[1653] moral] om. Seymour conj., reading 'Tis ... show as one line.

[1654] Fortune's] Malone. Fortunes F1. Fortune F2 F3 F4.

[1655] mean] men's Hanmer (Theobald conj.).

[1656] Trumpets sound.] Ff. Flourish. Capell.

Enter ...] Edd. Enter Lord Timon, addressing himselfe curteously to every Sutor. Ff. Enter Timon, attended, Servant of Ventidius talking with him. Capell.