Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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2.2 Enter Friar Laurence, with a basket

FRIAR LAURENCE

The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,

Chequ’ring the eastern clouds with streaks of light,

And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels

From forth day’s path and Titan’s fiery wheels.

Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye

The day to cheer and night’s dank dew to dry,

I must up-fill this osier cage of ours

With baleful weeds and precious-juicèd flowers.

The earth, that’s nature’s mother, is her tomb.

What is her burying grave, that is her womb,

And from her womb children of divers kind

We sucking on her natural bosom find,

Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some, and yet all different.

O mickle is the powerful grace that lies

In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities,

For naught so vile that on the earth doth live

But to the earth some special good doth give;

Nor aught so good but, strained from that fair use,

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.

Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied,

And vice sometime’s by action dignified.

Enter Romeo

Within the infant rind of this weak flower

Poison hath residence, and medicine power,

For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.

Two such opposed kings encamp them still

In man as well as herbs—grace and rude will;

And where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

ROMEO

Good morrow, father.

FRIAR LAURENCE Benedicite.

What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?

Young son, it argues a distempered head

So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.

Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye,

And where care lodges, sleep will never lie,

But where unbruisèd youth with unstuffed brain

Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.

Therefore thy earliness doth me assure

Thou art uproused with some distemp’rature;

Or if not so, then here I hit it right:

Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.

ROMEO

That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

God pardon sin!—Wast thou with Rosaline?

ROMEO

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No,

I have forgot that name and that name’s woe.

FRIAR LAURENCE

That’s my good son; but where hast thou been then?

ROMEO

I’ll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.

I have been feasting with mine enemy,

Where on a sudden one hath wounded me

That’s by me wounded. Both our remedies

Within thy help and holy physic lies.

I bear no hatred, blessed man, for lo,

My intercession likewise steads my foe.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift.

Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

ROMEO

Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is set

On the fair daughter of rich Capulet.

As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,

And all combined save what thou must combine

By holy marriage. When and where and how

We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow

I’ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,

That thou consent to marry us today.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!

Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,

So soon forsaken? Young men’s love then lies

Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine

Hath washed thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

How much salt water thrown away in waste

To season love, that of it doth not taste!

The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears.

Thy old groans yet ring in mine ancient ears.

Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit

Of an old tear that is not washed off yet.

If e’er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,

Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.

And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then:

Women may fall when there’s no strength in men.

ROMEO

Thou chidd’st me oft for loving Rosaline.

FRIAR LAURENCE

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

ROMEO

And bad’st me bury love.

FRIAR LAURENCE Not in a grave

To lay one in, another out to have.

ROMEO

I pray thee, chide me not. Her I love now

Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.

The other did not so.

FRIAR LAURENCE O, she knew well

Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.

But come, young waverer, come, go with me.

In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;

For this alliance may so happy prove

To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.

ROMEO

O, let us hence! I stand on sudden haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Wisely and slow. They stumble that run fast. Exeunt

2.3 Enter Benvolio and Mercutio

MERCUTIO Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?

BENVOLIO

Not to his father’s. I spoke with his man.

MERCUTIO

Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,

Torments him so that he will sure run mad.

BENVOLIO

Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,

Hath sent a letter to his father’s house.

MERCUTIO

A challenge, on my life.

BENVOLIO Romeo will answer it.

MERCUTIO Any man that can write may answer a letter.

BENVOLIO Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how he dares, being dared. is

MERCUTIO Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead—stabbed with a white wench’s black eye, run through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

⌈BENVOLIO⌉ Why, what is Tybalt?

MERCUTIO More than Prince of Cats. O, he’s the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing pricksong: keeps time, distance, and proportion. He rests his minim rests: one, two, and the third in your bosom; the very butcher of a silk button. A duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house of the first and second cause. Ah, the immortal passado, the puntoreverso, the hai.

BENVOLIO The what?

MERCUTIO The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting phantasims, these new tuners of accent! ‘By Jesu, a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whore.’ Why is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these ‘pardon-me’s’, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones! Enter Romeo

BENVOLIO Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!

MERCUTIO Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified ! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura to his lady was a kitchen wench—marry, she had a better love to berhyme her—Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signor Romeo, bonjour. There’s a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

ROMEO Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? 45

MERCUTIO The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive ?

ROMEO Pardon, good Mercutio. My business was great, and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

MERCUTIO That’s as much as to say such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

ROMEO Meaning to curtsy.

MERCUTIO Thou hast most kindly hit it.

ROMEO A most courteous exposition.

MERCUTIO Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

ROMEO Pink for flower.

MERCUTIO Right.

ROMEO Why, then is my pump well flowered.

MERCUTIO Sure wit, follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, solely singular.

ROMEO O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!

MERCUTIO Come between us, good Benvolio. My wits faints.

ROMEO Switch and spurs, switch and spurs, or I’ll cry a match.

MERCUTIO Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done, for thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits than I am sure I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the goose?

ROMEO Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.

MERCUTIO I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.

ROMEO Nay, good goose, bite not.

MERCUTIO Thy wit is very bitter sweeting, it is a most sharp sauce.

ROMEO And is it not then well served in to a sweet goose?

MERCUTIO O, here’s a wit of cheverel, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad.

ROMEO I stretch it out for that word ‘broad’, which, added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

MERCUTIO Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou art by art as well as by nature, for this drivelling love is like a great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.

BENVOLIO Stop there, stop there.

MERCUTIO Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.

BENVOLIO Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. MERCUTIO O, thou art deceived, I would have made it short, for I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupy the argument no longer. Enter the Nurse, and Peter, her man

ROMEO Here’s goodly gear.

⌈BENVOLIO⌉ A sail, a sail!

MERCUTIO Two, two—a shirt and a smock.

NURSE Peter.

PETER Anon.

NURSE My fan, Peter.

MERCUTIO Good Peter, to hide her face, for her fan’s the fairer face.

NURSE God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

MERCUTIO God ye good e’en, fair gentlewoman.

NURSE Is it good e’en?

MERCUTIO ’Tis no less, I tell ye: for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.

NURSE Out upon you, what a man are you!

ROMEO One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.

NURSE By my troth, it is well said. ‘For himself to mar’, quoth a? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?

ROMEO I can tell you, but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him. I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.

NURSE You say well.

MERCUTIO Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i’faith, wisely, wisely.

NURSE (to Romeo) If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.

BENVOLIO She will endite him to some supper.

MERCUTIO A bawd, a bawd, a bawd. So ho!

ROMEO What hast thou found?

MERCUTIO No hare, sir, unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

⌈He walks by them and⌉ sings

An old hare hoar

And an old hare hoar

Is very good meat in Lent.

But a hare that is hoar

Is too much for a score

When it hoars ere it be spent.

Romeo, will you come to your father’s ? We’ll to dinner thither.

ROMEO I will follow you.

MERCUTIO Farewell, ancient lady. Farewell, ⌈sings⌉ ‘lady, lady, lady’. Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio

NURSE I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?

ROMEO A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.

NURSE An a speak anything against me, I’ll take him down an a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks; an if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-jills, I am none of his skeans-mates. (To Peter) And thou must stand by, too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure.

PETER I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon should quickly have been out; I warrant you, I dare draw as soon as another man if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side.

NURSE Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! (To Romeo) Pray you, sir, a word; and, as I told you, my young lady bid me enquire you out. What she bid me say I will keep to myself, but first let me tell ye if ye should lead her in a fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they say, for the gentlewoman is young; and therefore if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

ROMEO Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee—

NURSE Good heart, and i’faith I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.

ROMEO What wilt thou tell her, Nurse? Thou dost not mark me.

NURSE I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which as I take it is a gentlemanlike offer.

ROMEO Bid her devise

Some means to come to shrift this afternoon,

And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cell

Be shrived and married. (Offering money) Here is for

thy pains.

NURSE No, truly, sir, not a penny.

ROMEO Go to, I say, you shall.

NURSE ⌈taking the money⌉

This afternoon, sir. Well, she shall be there.

ROMEO

And stay, good Nurse, behind the abbey wall.

Within this hour my man shall be with thee

And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,

Which to the high topgallant of my joy

Must be my convoy in the secret night.

Farewell. Be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains.

Farewell. Commend me to thy mistress.

NURSE

Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.

ROMEO What sayst thou, my dear Nurse?

NURSE

Is your man secret? Did you ne‘er hear say

‘Two may keep counsel, putting one away’ ?

ROMEO

I warrant thee my man’s as true as steel.

NURSE

Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady.

Lord, Lord, when ’twas a little prating thing—

O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris,

That would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul,

Had as lief see a toad, a very toad,

As see him. I anger her sometimes,

And tell her that Paris is the properer man;

But I’ll warrant you, when I say so she looks

As pale as any clout in the versal world.

Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin

Both with a letter?

ROMEO

Ay, Nurse, what of that? Both with an ‘R’.

NURSE Ah, mocker—that’s the dog’s name. ’R’ is for the—no, I know it begins with some other letter, and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.

ROMEO Commend me to thy lady.

NURSE Ay, a thousand times. Peter!

PETER Anon.

NURSE ⌈giving Peter her fan⌉ Before, and apace.

Exeunt ⌈Peter and Nurse at one door, Romeo at another door⌉

2.4 Enter Juliet

JULIET

The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse.

In half an hour she promised to return.

Perchance she cannot meet him. That’s not so.

O, she is lame! Love’s heralds should be thoughts,

Which ten times faster glides than the sun’s beams

Driving back shadows over louring hills.

Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw Love,

And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

Of this day’s journey, and from nine till twelve

Is three long hours, yet she is not come.

Had she affections and warm youthful blood

She would be as swift in motion as a ball.

My words would bandy her to my sweet love,

And his to me.

But old folks, many feign as they were dead—

Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.

Enter the Nurse and Peter

O God, she comes! O honey Nurse, what news?

Hast thou met with him ? Send thy man away.

NURSE Peter, stay at the gate. Exit Peter

JULIET

Now, good sweet Nurse—O Lord, why look‘st thou sad ?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;

If good, thou sham’st the music of sweet news

By playing it to me with so sour a face.

NURSE

I am a-weary. Give me leave a while.

Fie, how my bones ache. What a jaunce have I!

JULIET

I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news.

Nay, come, I pray thee speak, good, good Nurse, speak.

NURSE

Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay a while?

Do you not see that I am out of breath?

JULIET

How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath

To say to me that thou art out of breath?

The excuse that thou dost make in this delay

Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.

Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that.

Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance.

Let me be satisfied: is’t good or bad?

NURSE Well, you have made a simple choice. You know not how to choose a man. Romeo? No, not he; though his face be better than any man‘s, yet his leg excels all men’s, and for a hand and a foot and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but, I’ll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench. Serve God. What, have you dined at home?

JULIET

No, no. But all this did I know before.

What says he of our marriage—what of that?

NURSE

Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!

It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back—

⌈Juliet rubs her back⌉

a’ t’other side—ah, my back, my back!

Beshrew your heart for sending me about

To catch my death with jauncing up and down.

JULIET

I’faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.

Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?

NURSE Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a

courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I warrant,

a virtuous—where is your mother?

JULIET

Where is my mother? Why, she is within.

Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!

‘Your love says like an honest gentleman

“Where is your mother?” ’

NURSE O, God’s Lady dear!

Are you so hot? Marry come up, I trow.

Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

Henceforward do your messages yourself.

JULIET

Here’s such a coil ! Come, what says Romeo?

NURSE

Have you got leave to go to shrift today?

JULIET I have.

NURSE

Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell.

There stays a husband to make you a wife.

Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks.

They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news.

Hie you to church. I must another way,

To fetch a ladder by the which your love

Must climb a bird’s nest soon, when it is dark.

I am the drudge, and toil in your delight,

But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

Go, I’ll to dinner. Hie you to the cell.

JULIET

Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.

Exeunt ⌈severally⌉

2.5 Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo

FRIAR LAURENCE

So smile the heavens upon this holy act

That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!

ROMEO

Amen, amen. But come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

That one short minute gives me in her sight.

Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

Then love-devouring death do what he dare—

It is enough I may but call her mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

These violent delights have violent ends,

And in their triumph die like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume. The sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite.

Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so.

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Enter Juliet Somewhat fast, and embraceth Romeo⌉

Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot

Will ne’er wear out the everlasting flint.

A lover may bestride the gossamers

That idles in the wanton summer air,

And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

JULIET

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

JULIET

As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

ROMEO

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more

To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue

Unfold the imagined happiness that both

Receive in either by this dear encounter.

JULIET

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,

Brags of his substance, not of ornament.

They are but beggars that can count their worth,

But my true love is grown to such excess

I cannot sum up some of half my wealth.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Come, come with me, and we will make short work,

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone

Till Holy Church incorporate two in one. Exeunt

3.1 Enter Mercutio with his page, Benvolio, and men

BENVOLIO

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire.

The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,

And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl,

For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

MERCUTIO Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says ‘God send me no need of thee’, and by the operation of the second cup, draws him on the drawer when indeed there is no need.

BENVOLIO Am I like such a fellow?

MERCUTIO Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.

BENVOLIO And what to?

MERCUTIO Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou—why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter; with another for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

BENVOLIO An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

MERCUTIO The fee simple? O, simple!

Enter Tybalt, Petruccio, and others

BENVOLIO By my head, here comes the Capulets.

MERCUTIO By my heel, I care not.

TYBALT (to Petruccio and the others)

Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

(To the Montagues) Gentlemen, good e’en. A word with

one of you.

MERCUTIO And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something: make it a word and a blow.

TYBALT You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.

MERCUTIO Could you not take some occasion without giving ?

TYBALT

Mercutio, thou consort’st with Romeo.

MERCUTIO ‘Consort’ ? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. ⌈touching his rapier⌉ Here’s my fiddlestick; here’s that shall make you dance. Zounds—‘Consort’!

BENVOLIO

We talk here in the public haunt of men.

Either withdraw unto some private place,

Or reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.

MERCUTIO

Men’s eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.

I will not budge for no man’s pleasure, I.

Enter Romeo

TYBALT

Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.

MERCUTIO

But I’ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.

Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower.

Your worship in that sense may call him ‘man’.

TYBALT

Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford

No better term than this: thou art a villain.

ROMEO

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

To such a greeting. Villain am I none.

Therefore, farewell. I see thou knowest me not.

TYBALT

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.

ROMEO

I do protest I never injured thee,

But love thee better than thou canst devise

Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.

And so, good Capulet—which name I tender

As dearly as mine own—be satisfied.

MERCUTIO ⌈drawing⌉

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! 1

Alla stoccado carries it away.

Tybalt, you ratcatcher, come, will you walk?

TYBALT What wouldst thou have with me?

MERCUTIO Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine lives. That I mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

TYBALT (drawing) I am for you.

ROMEO

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

MERCUTIO (to Tybalt) Come, sir, your passado.

They fight

ROMEO ⌈drawing⌉

Draw, Benvolio. Beat down their weapons.

Gentlemen, for shame forbear this outrage.

Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath

Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.

Hold, Tybalt, good Mercutio.

⌈Romeo beats down their points and rushes between them. Tybalt under Romeo’s arm thrusts Mercutio in⌉

⌈PETRUCCIO⌉ Away, Tybalt!

Exeunt Tybalt, Petruccio, and their followers

MERCUTIO I am hurt.

A plague o’ both your houses. I am sped.

Is he gone, and hath nothing?

BENVOLIO What, art thou hurt?

MERCUTIO

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, ’tis enough.

Where is my page? Go, villain. Fetch a surgeon.

Exit page

ROMEO

Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.

MERCUTIO No, ‘tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but ’tis enough. ’Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’ both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us ? I was hurt under your arm.

ROMEO I thought all for the best.

MERCUTIO

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

Or I shall faint. A plague o’ both your houses.

They have made worms’ meat of me.

I have it, and soundly, too. Your houses!

Exeunt all but Romeo

ROMEO

This gentleman, the Prince’s near ally,

My very friend, hath got this mortal hurt

In my behalf, my reputation stained

With Tybalt’s slander—Tybalt, that an hour

Hath been my cousin! O sweet Juliet,

Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,

And in my temper softened valour’s steel.

Enter Benvolio

BENVOLIO

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead!

That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

ROMEO

This day’s black fate on more days doth depend.

This but begins the woe others must end.

Enter Tybalt

BENVOLIO

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

ROMEO

He gad in triumph, and Mercutio slain ?

Away to heaven, respective lenity,

And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now.

Now, Tybalt, take the ‘villain’ back again

That late thou gav’st me, for Mercutio’s soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company.

Either thou, or I, or both must go with him.

TYBALT

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

ROMEO This shall determine that.

They fight. Tybalt is wounded. He falls and dies

BENVOLIO Romeo, away, be gone.

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.

Stand not amazed. The Prince will doom thee death

If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away.

ROMEO

O, I am fortune’s fool!

BENVOLIO Why dost thou stay?

Exit Romeo

Enter Citizens ⌈of the watchi⌉

CITIZEN ⌈0F THE WATCH⌉

Which way ran he that killed Mercutio?

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

BENVOLIO

There lies that Tybalt.

CITIZEN ⌈OF THE WATCH⌉ (to Tybalt) Up, sir, go with me.

I charge thee in the Prince’s name, obey.

Enter the Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and all

PRINCE

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

BENVOLIO

O noble Prince, I can discover all

The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.

There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,

That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

CAPULET’S WIFE

Tybalt, my cousin, O, my brother’s child!

O Prince, O cousin, husband! O, the blood is spilled

Of my dear kinsman ! Prince, as thou art true,

For blood of ours shed blood of Montague!

O cousin, cousin!

PRINCE Benvolio, who began this fray?

BENVOLIO

Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did slay.

Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal

Your high displeasure. All this-utterèd

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed—

Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts

With piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast,

Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

Cold death aside, and with the other sends

It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

Retorts it. Romeo, he cries aloud,

‘Hold, friends, friends, part!’ and swifter than his

tongue

His agent arm beats down their fatal points,

And ’twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm

An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled,

But by and by comes back to Romeo,

Who had but newly entertained revenge,

And to’t they go like lightning; for ere I

Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain,

And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.

This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

CAPULET’S WIFE

He is a kinsman to the Montague.

Affection makes him false; he speaks not true.

Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

And all those twenty could but kill one life.

I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.

Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.

PRINCE

Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio.

Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

⌈MONTAGUE⌉

Not Romeo, Prince. He was Mercutio’s friend.

His fault concludes but what the law should end,

The life of Tybalt.

PRINCE And for that offence

Immediately we do exile him hence.

I have an interest in your hate’s proceeding;

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.

But I’ll amerce you with so strong a fine

That you shall all repent the loss of mine.

I will be deaf to pleading and excuses.

Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.

Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,

Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.

Bear hence this body, and attend our will.

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Exeunt with the body