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

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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4.1 Enter Friar Laurence and Paris

FRIAR LAURENCE

On Thursday, sir? The time is very short.

PARIS

My father Capulet will have it so,

And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

You say you do not know the lady’s mind?

Uneven is the course. I like it not.

PARIS

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death,

And therefore have I little talked of love,

For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.

Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous

That she do give her sorrow so much sway,

And in his wisdom hastes our marriage

To stop the inundation of her tears,

Which, too much minded by herself alone,

May be put from her by society.

Now do you know the reason of this haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE (aside)

I would I knew not why it should be slowed.—

Enter Juliet

Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell.

PARIS

Happily met, my lady and my wife.

JULIET

That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.

PARIS

That ’may be’ must be, love, on Thursday next.

JULIET

What must be shall be.

FRIAR LAURENCE That’s a certain text.

PARIS

Come you to make confession to this father?

JULIET

To answer that, I should confess to you.

PARIS

Do not deny to him that you love me.

JULIET

I will confess to you that I love him.

PARIS

So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.

JULIET

If I do so, it will be of more price,

Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

PARIS

Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.

JULIET

The tears have got small victory by that,

For it was bad enough before their spite.

PARIS

Thou wrong’st it more than tears with that report.

JULIET

That is no slander, sir, which is a truth,

And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

PARIS

Thy face is mine, and thou hast slandered it.

JULIET

It may be so, for it is not mine own.—

Are you at leisure, holy father, now,

Or shall I come to you at evening mass?

FRIAR LAURENCE

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.

My lord, we must entreat the time alone.

PARIS

God shield I should disturb devotion!—

Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye.

(Kissing her) Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss.

Exit

JULIET

O, shut the door, and when thou hast done so,

Come weep with me, past hope, past cure, past help!

FRIAR LAURENCE

O Juliet, I already know thy grief.

It strains me past the compass of my wits.

I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,

On Thursday next be married to this County.

JULIET

Tell me not, friar, that thou hear’st of this,

Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.

If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,

Do thou but call my resolution wise,

She draws a knife

And with this knife I’ll help it presently.

God joined my heart and Romeo‘s, thou our hands,

And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo’s sealed,

Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt

Turn to another, this shall slay them both.

Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,

Give me some present counsel; or, behold,

’Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife

Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that

Which the commission of thy years and art

Could to no issue of true honour bring.

Be not so long to speak. I long to die

If what thou speak’st speak not of remedy.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, daughter, I do spy a kind of hope

Which craves as desperate an execution

As that is desperate which we would prevent.

If, rather than to marry County Paris,

Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,

Then is it likely thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this shame,

That cop‘st with death himself to scape from it;

And, if thou dar’st, I’ll give thee remedy.

JULIET

O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,

From off the battlements of any tower,

Or walk in thievish ways, or bid me lurk

Where serpents are. Chain me with roaring bears,

Or hide me nightly in a charnel house,

O’ercovered quite with dead men’s rattling bones,

With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;

Or bid me go into a new-made grave

And hide me with a dead man in his tomb—

Things that, to hear them told, have made me

tremble—

And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unstained wife to my sweet love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent

To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow.

Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone.

Let not the Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber.

Take thou this vial, being then in bed,

And this distilling liquor drink thou off,

When presently through all thy veins shall run

A cold and drowsy humour; for no pulse

Shall keep his native progress, but surcease.

No warmth, no breath shall testify thou livest.

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade

To wanny ashes, thy eyes’ windows fall

Like death when he shuts up the day of life.

Each part, deprived of supple government,

Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death;

And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death

Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours,

And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes

To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.

Then, as the manner of our country is,

In thy best robes, uncovered on the bier

Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault

Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.

In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,

Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,

And hither shall he come, and he and I

Will watch thy waking, and that very night

Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.

And this shall free thee from this present shame,

If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear

Abate thy valour in the acting it.

JULIET

Give me, give me O, tell not me of fear!

FRIAR LAURENCE (giving her the vial)

Hold, get you gone. Be strong and prosperous

In this resolve. I’ll send a friar with speed

To Mantua with my letters to thy lord.

JULIET

Love give me strength, and strength shall help afford.

Farewell, dear father. Exeunt [severally]

4.2 Enter Capulet, his Wife, the Nurse, and ⌈two⌉ Servingmen

CAPULET (giving a Servingman a paper)

So many guests invite as here are writ.

⌈Exit Servingman⌉

(To the other Servingman) Sirrah, go hire me twenty

cunning cooks.

SERVINGMAN You shall have none ill, sir, for I’ll try if they can lick their fingers.

CAPULET How canst thou try them so?

SERVINGMAN Marry, sir, ’tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers, therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.

CAPULET Go, be gone. ⌈Exit Servingman⌉

We shall be much unfurnished for this time.

(To the Nurse) What, is my daughter gone to Friar

Laurence?

NURSE Ay, forsooth.

CAPULET

Well, he may chance to do some good on her.

A peevish, self-willed harlotry it is.

Enter Juliet

NURSE

See where she comes from shrift with merry look.

CAPULET (to Juliet)

How now, my headstrong, where have you been gadding ?

JULIET

Where I have learned me to repent the sin

Of disobedient opposition

To you and your behests, and am enjoined

By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here

To beg your pardon. (Kneeling) Pardon, I beseech you.

Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

CAPULET ⌈to the Nurse⌉

Send for the County; go tell him of this.

I’ll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning.

JULIET

I met the youthful lord at Laurence’ cell,

And gave him what becoming love I might,

Not stepping o’er the bounds of modesty.

CAPULET

Why, I am glad on’t. This is well. Stand up.

Juliet rises

This is as’t should be. Let me see the County.

⌈To Nurse⌉ Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.

Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar,

All our whole city is much bound to him.

JULIET

Nurse, will you go with me into my closet

To help me sort such needful ornaments

As you think fit to furnish me tomorrow?

CAPULET’S WIFE

No, not till Thursday. There is time enough.

CAPULET

Go, Nurse, go with her. We’ll to church tomorrow.

Exeunt Juliet and Nurse

CAPULET’S WIFE

We shall be short in our provision.

’Tis now near night.

CAPULET Tush, I will stir about,

And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.

Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her.

I’ll not to bed tonight. Let me alone.

I’ll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!

They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself

To County Paris to prepare up him

Against tomorrow. My heart is wondrous light,

Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed.

Exeunt ⌈severally⌉

4.3 Enter Juliet and the Nurse ⌈with garments⌉

JULIET

Ay, those attires are best. But, gentle Nurse,

I pray thee leave me to myself tonight,

For I have need of many orisons

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,

Which—well thou knowest—is cross and full of sin.

Enter Capulet’s Wife

CAPULET’S WIFE

What, are you busy, ho? Need you my help?

JULIET

No, madam, we have culled such necessaries

As are behoveful for our state tomorrow.

So please you, let me now be left alone,

And let the Nurse this night sit up with you,

For I am sure you have your hands full all

In this so sudden business.

CAPULET’S WIFE Good night.

Get thee to bed, and rest, for thou hast need.

Exeunt Capulet’s Wife ⌈and Nurse⌉

JULIET

Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins

That almost freezes up the heat of life.

I’ll call them back again to comfort me.

Nurse!—What should she do here?

⌈She opens curtains, behind which is seen her bed⌉

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?

No, no, this shall forbid it. Lie thou there.

She lays down a knife

What if it be a poison which the friar

Subtly hath ministered to have me dead,

Lest in this marriage he should be dishonoured

Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is—and yet methinks it should not,

For he hath still been tried a holy man.

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeem me? There’s a fearful point.

Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,

And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like

The horrible conceit of death and night,

Together with the terror of the place—

As in a vault, an ancient receptacle

Where for this many hundred years the bones

Of all my buried ancestors are packed;

Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,

Lies fest‘ring in his shroud; where, as they say,

At some hours in the night spirits resort—

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

So early waking—what with loathsome smells,

And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,

That living mortals, hearing them, run mad—

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

Environèd with all these hideous fears,

And madly play with my forefathers’ joints,

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud,

And, in this rage, with some great kinsman’s bone

As with a club dash out my desp’rate brains?

O, look! Methinks I see my cousin’s ghost

Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body

Upon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!

Romeo, Romeo, Romeo! Here’s drink. I drink to thee.

She drinks from the vial and falls upon the bed, ⌈pulling closed the curtains⌉

4.4 Enter Capulet’s Wife, and the Nurse ⌈With herbs⌉

CAPULET’S WIFE

Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, Nurse.

NURSE

They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter Capulet

CAPULET

Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crowed.

The curfew bell hath rung. ’Tis three o’clock.

Look to the baked meats, good Angelica.

Spare not for cost.

NURSE Go, you cot-quean, go.

Get you to bed. Faith, you’ll be sick tomorrow

For this night’s watching.

CAPULET

No, not a whit. What, I have watched ere now

All night for lesser cause, and ne’er been sick.

CAPULET’S WIFE

Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time,

But I will watch you from such watching now.

Exeunt Capulet’s Wife and Nurse

CAPULET

A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood!

Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits and logs and baskets

Now, fellow, what is there?

FIRST SERVINGMAN

Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what.

CAPULET

Make haste, make haste.

Exit First Servingman ⌈and one or two others⌉

Sirrah, fetch drier logs.

Call Peter. He will show thee where they are.

SECOND SERVINGMAN

I have a head, sir, that will find out logs

And never trouble Peter for the matter.

CAPULET

Mass, and well said! A merry whoreson, ha!

Thou shalt be loggerhead. Exit Second Servingman

Good faith, ’tis day.

The County will be here with music straight,

For so he said he would.

Music plays within

I hear him near.

Nurse! Wife! What ho, what, Nurse, I say!

Enter the Nurse

Go waken Juliet. Go and trim her up.

I’ll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste,

Make haste, the bridegroom he is come already.

Make haste, I say. Exit

NURSE

Mistress, what, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she.

Why, lamb, why, lady! Fie, you slug-abed!

Why, love, I say, madam, sweetheart, why, bride!

What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now.

Sleep for a week, for the next night, I warrant,

The County Paris hath set up his rest

That you shall rest but little. God forgive me!

Marry, and amen. How sound is she asleep!

I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!

Ay, let the County take you in your bed.

He’ll fright you up, i’faith. Will it not be?

⌈She draws back the curtains⌉

What, dressed and in your clothes, and down again?

I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady!

Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady’s dead.

O welladay, that ever I was born!

Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord, my lady!

Enter Capulet’s Wife

CAPULET’S WIFE

What noise is here?

NURSE O lamentable day!

CAPULET’S WIFE

What is the matter?

NURSE Look, look. O heavy day!

CAPULET’S WIFE

O me, O me, my child, my only life!

Revive, look up, or I will die with thee.

Help, help, call help!

Enter Capulet

CAPULET

For shame, bring Juliet forth. Her lord is come.

NURSE

She’s dead, deceased. She’s dead, alack the day!

CAPULET’S WIFE

Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

CAPULET

Ha, let me see her! Out, alas, she’s cold.

Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff.

Life and these lips have long been separated.

Death lies on her like an untimely frost

Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

NURSE

O lamentable day!

CAPULET’S WIFE O woeful time!

CAPULET

Death, that hath ta’en her hence to make me wail,

Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians

FRIAR LAURENCE

Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

CAPULET

Ready to go, but never to return.

(To Paris) O son, the night before thy wedding day

Hath death lain with thy wife. See, there she lies,

Flower as she was, deflowered by him.

Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir.

My daughter he hath wedded. I will die,

And leave him all. Life, living, all is death’s.

⌈Paris, Capulet and his Wife, and the Nurse all at once wring their hands and cry out together:⌉

PARIS

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,

And doth it give me such a sight as this?

Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!

Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,

By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown.

O love, O life: not life, but love in death.

CAPULET’S WIFE

Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!

Most miserable hour that e’er time saw

In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,

But one thing to rejoice and solace in,

And cruel death hath catched it from my sight!

NURSE

O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!

Most lamentable day! Most woeful day

That ever, ever, I did yet behold!

O day, O day, O day, O hateful day,

Never was seen so black a day as this I

O woeful day, O woeful day! 85

CAPULET

Despised, distressed, hated, martyred, killed!

Uncomfortable time, why cam’st thou now

To murder, murder our solemnity?

O child, O child, my soul and not my child!

Dead art thou, alack, my child is dead,

And with my child my joys are buried.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion’s cure lives not

In these confusions. Heaven and yourself

Had part in this fair maid. Now heaven hath all,

And all the better is it for the maid.

Your part in her you could not keep from death,

But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.

The most you sought was her promotion,

For ’twas your heaven she should be advanced,

And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced

Above the clouds as high as heaven itself?

O, in this love you love your child so ill

That you run mad, seeing that she is well.

She’s not well married that lives married long,

But she’s best married that dies married young.

Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary

On this fair corpse, and, as the custom is,

All in her best array bear her to church;

For though fond nature bids us all lament,

Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment.

CAPULET

All things that we ordained festival

Turn from their office to black funeral.

Our instruments to melancholy bells,

Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,

Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change;

Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corpse,

And all things change them to the contrary.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Sir, go you in; and madam, go with him,

And go, Sir Paris. Everyone prepare

To follow this fair corpse unto her grave.

The heavens do lour upon you for some ill.

Move them no more by crossing their high will.

⌈They cast rosemary on Juliet, and shut the curtains.⌉ Exeunt all but the Nurse and Musicians

⌈FIRST⌉ MUSICIAN Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.

NURSE

Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,

For well you know this is a pitiful case.

⌈FIRST⌉ MUSICIAN

Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Exit Nurse Enter Peter

PETER Musicians, O, musicians! ‘Heart’s ease’, ‘Heart’s ease’; O,an you will have me live, play ‘Heart’s ease’.

⌈FIRST⌉ MUSICIAN Why ‘Heart’s ease’?

PETER O, musicians, because my heart itself plays ‘My heart is full of woe’. O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.

⌈FIRST⌉ MUSICIAN Not a dump, we. ’Tis no time to play now.

PETER You will not then?

FIRST MUSICIAN No.

PETER I will then give it you soundly.

FIRST MUSICIAN What will you give us?

PETER No money, on my faith, but the gleek. I will give you the minstrel.

FIRST MUSICIAN Then will I give you the serving-creature.

PETER (drawing his dagger) Then will I lay the serving-creature’s dagger on your pate. I will carry no crochets. I’ll re you, I’ll fa you. Do you note me?

FIRST MUSICIAN An you re us and fa us, you note us.

SECOND MUSICIAN Pray you, put up your dagger and put out your wit.

⌈PETER⌉ Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men.

⌈Sings⌉

When griping grief the heart doth wound,

And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then music with her silver sound—

Why ‘silver sound’, why ‘music with her silver sound’?

What say you, Matthew Minikin?

FIRST MUSICIAN Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

PETER Prates! What say you, Hugh Rebec?

SECOND MUSICIAN I say ’silver sound’ because musicians sound for silver.

PETER Prates too! What say you, Simon Soundpost?

THIRD MUSICIAN Faith, I know not what to say.

PETER O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer. I will say for you. It is ’music with her silver sound’ because musicians have no gold for sounding.

⌈Sings⌉

Then music with her silver sound

With speedy help doth lend redress. Exit

FIRST MUSICIAN What a pestilent knave is this same!

SECOND MUSICIAN Hang him, jack! Come, we’ll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. Exeunt

5.1 Enter Romeo

ROMEO

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,

My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.

My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne,

And all this day an unaccustomed spirit

Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

I dreamt my lady came and found me dead—

Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to

think!—

And breathed such life with kisses in my lips

That I revived and was an emperor.

Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed

When but love’s shadows are so rich in joy!

Enter Balthasar, Romeo’s man, ⌈booted⌉

News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?

Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?

How doth my lady? Is my father well?

How fares my Juliet? That I ask again,

For nothing can be ill if she be well.

BALTHASAR

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.

Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument,

And her immortal part with angels lives.

I saw her laid low in her kindred’s vault,

And presently took post to tell it you.

O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,

Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

ROMEO

Is it e’en so? Then I defy you, stars.

Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper,

And hire posthorses. I will hence tonight.

BALTHASAR

I do beseech you, sir, have patience.

Your looks are pale and wild, and do import

Some misadventure.

ROMEO Tush, thou art deceived.

Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.

Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

BALTHASAR

No, my good lord.

ROMEO No matter. Get thee gone,

And hire those horses. I’ll be with thee straight.

Exit Balthasar

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.

Let’s see for means. O mischief, thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

I do remember an apothecary,

And hereabouts a dwells, which late I noted,

In tattered weeds, with overwhelming brows,

Culling of simples. Meagre were his looks.

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones,

And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,

An alligator stuffed, and other skins

Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves

A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,

Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses

Were thinly scattered to make up a show.

Noting this penury, to myself I said

‘An if a man did need a poison now,

Whose sale is present death in Mantua,

Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.’

O, this same thought did but forerun my need,

And this same needy man must sell it me.

As I remember, this should be the house.

Being holiday, the beggar’s shop is shut.

What ho, apothecary!

Enter Apothecary

APOTHECARY Who calls so loud?

ROMEO

Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.

He offers money

Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have

A dram of poison—such soon-speeding gear

As will disperse itself through all the veins,

That the life-weary taker may fall dead,

And that the trunk may be discharged of breath

As violently as hasty powder fired

Doth hurry from the fatal cannon’s womb.

APOTHECARY

Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua’s law

Is death to any he that utters them.

ROMEO

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,

And fear’st to die? Famine is in thy cheeks,

Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,

Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back.

The world is not thy friend, nor the world’s law.

The world affords no law to make thee rich.

Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

APOTHECARY

My poverty but not my will consents.

ROMEO

I pay thy poverty and not thy will.

APOTHECARY (handing Romeo poison)

Put this in any liquid thing you will

And drink it off, and if you had the strength

Of twenty men it would dispatch you straight.

ROMEO (giving money)

There is thy gold—worse poison to men’s souls, 80

Doing more murder in this loathsome world,

Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.

I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.

Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh.

⌈Exit Apothecary⌉

Come, cordial and not poison, go with me 85

To Juliet’s grave, for there must I use thee. Exit