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That heaven's vault should crack! – 0, she is gone Alb. He knows not what he says; and rain it is, for ever!
That we present us to him.
Enter an Officer.
off. Edmand is dead, my lord !
Alb. That's but a trifle here. -
You lords, and noble friends, know our intent!
What comfort to this great decay may come,
To him our absolute power. - You, to your rights ;
[To Edgar and Keni. Lear. Prythee, away!
With boot, and such addition as your honours Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend!
Have more than merited. All friends shall taste Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors, The wages of their virtue, and all foes all!
The cup of their deservings.- see, see! di I might have sav'd her; now she's gone for ever! Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life! Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little! Ha!
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, What is't thou say'st ?-Her voice was ever soft, And thou no breath at all? 0, thou wilt some po Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman: more, I kill'd the slave, that was a hanging thee. Never, never, never, never, never ! off: 'Tis true, my lords, he did.
Pray you, undo this button! Thank you, sir!Lear. Did I not, fellow?
Do you see this? Look on her, --look,-her lips,I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion Look there, Jook there!
(Ile dies. I would have made them skip: 1 am old now, Edg. He faints !- My lord, my lord, And these same crosses spoil me. Who are you? Kent. Break, heart! Í pry’thee, break! Mine eyes are none o'the best:—I'll tell you straight. Edg. Look up, my lord ! Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated, Kent. Vex not his ghost: 0 let him pass! he hates One of them we behold.
Stretch him out longer.
Lear. He's a good fellow, I can tell you that; Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd so long:
Is general woe. Friends of my soul, you twain
[To Kent and Edgar. decay,
Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain. Have follow'd your sad steps.
Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go;
My master calls, and I must not say, no.
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. Your eldest daughters have foredoom'd themselves, The oldest hath borne most: we, that are young, And desperately are dead.
Shall never see so much, nor live so long.
(Exeunt, with a dead march.
persons of the Drama.
servant to Capulet.
Chorus, Boy; Page to Paris ; Peter; an Officer.
Lady CAPULET, wife to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.
Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women,
relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Friar Jonn, of the same order.
Watchmen, and Attendants.
The fiery Tub Which, as he Heswaug abc Who, nothin While we we Came more & Till the prin La. Mon,
to-das Right glad I
Ben. Mada Peer'd forth A troubled Where,
The shady c
Away from 1
Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir;
but I bite my thumb, sir! Two households, both alike in dignity,
Gre. Do you quarrel, sir? In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
Abr, Quarrel, sir? no, sir ! Fair ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
a man, as you. From forth the futal loins of these two foes Abr. No better.
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Sam. Well, sir!
Enter Benvolio, at a distance.
And the continuance of their parents' rage, Sam. Yes, better, sir!
Is now the two hours' traffick of our stage: Sam, Draw, if you be men !-Gregory, remember The which, if you with patient ears attend,
thy swashing blow!
( They fight
. What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. Ben. Part, fools! put up your swords ; you know
Tyb. What, art thou drawn among these heartless
hinds? Enter Sampson and Gregory, armed with swords Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death! and bucklers. Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy sword
, Sam. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals! Or manage it to part these men with me! Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
Tyb. What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. word,
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee! I collar.
Have at thee, coward !
(They fight Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.
Enter several partizans of both houses, who jour Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike. the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs. Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
1 Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! strike! beat them Gre. To move, is – to stir ; and to be valiant, is
down! to stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou run'st Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues ! away.
Enter Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet, şam. A dog of that house shall move me to stand : | Cap. What noise is this ?-Give me my long sword,ko! I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. La. Cup. A crutch, a crutch !-Why call you for Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weak
a sword ? est goes to the wall.
Cap. My sword, I say !--Old Montague is come, Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weak- And flourishes his blade in spite of me. er vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: -
- therefore Enter Montague, and Lady Mostacte. I will push Montagne's men from the wall, and thrust Mon. Thou villain, Capulet!-Hold me not, let me go! his maids to the wall.
La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a toe. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us
Enter Prince, with Attendants. their men.
Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with Will they not hear?-What, ho ! you men, you beasts the maids; I will cut off their heads.
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage. Gre. The heads of the maids?
With purple fountains issuing from your veios, Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maiden-On pain of torture, from those bloody hands heads; take it in what sense thou wilt.
Throw your mis-temper'd weapons to the ground
, Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it.
And hear the sentence of your moved princem Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand : Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Canker’d with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
Your lives shall pay tlie forfeit of the peace. Gre. How? turn thy back, and run?
For this time, all the rest depart away: Sam. Fear me not.
You, Capulet, shall go along with me; Gre. No, marry: I fear thee!
And, Montague, come you this afternoon, bSam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them to know our farther pleasure in this case, egin.
To old Free-town, our commoy Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take once more, on pain of death, all men depart! it as they list.
(Exeunt Prince, and Attendants ; CapaSam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at
let, Lady Capulet , Tybalt, Citizens, them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
and Servants. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel newabrosch?Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir !
Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?
, Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay? And yours, close figthing ere I did approach : Gre. No.
I drew to part them; in the instant came
And private Shuts up his And makes Black and
Ben, In lo Rom. Out Ben, 011 Rom. On Ben. Alae Should be
Rors. Als Should, wi Where she
Yet tell m
The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar’d; Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
Dost thou not laugh?
Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.
Ben. At thy good heart's oppression.
Rom. Why, such is love's transgression. —
With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown,
Love is a smoke, rais'd with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire, sparkling in lovers' eyes;
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
Rom. "Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here ; Should in the furthest east begin to draw
This is not Romeo, he's some other where. The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Ben. Tell me in sadness, who she is you love, Away from light steals home my heavy son,
Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee?
Ben. Groan ? why, no!
Roin. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!-Unless good counsel may the cause remove. In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov’d. Mon. I neither know it, nor can learn of him. Rom. A right good marksman !- And she's fair I Ben. Have you impórtun'd him by any means ? love. Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends : Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. But he, his own allections' counsellor,
Rom. Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit Is to himself — I will not say, how true
With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; Lut to himself so secret and so close,
And, in strong proof of chastity well armd, So far from sounding and discovery,
From love's weak childish bow she lives un harm’d. As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold : Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, o, she is rich in beauty; only poor, We would as willingly give cure as know. That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Enter Romeo, at a distance.
Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live
Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay, waste;
[Exeunt Montague and Lady. Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
She hath forsworn to love; and, in that vow,
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.
Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes ;
Rom. 'Tis the way
To call her’s, exquisite, in question more:
These happy masks, that kiss fair ladies' brı w's,
Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost :
here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Ben. I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
SCENE II.- A Streat.
County Anselme, and hisbeauteous sisters; the la Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. dy widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and his Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Valentine: In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daughters ; my For men so old as we to keep the peace.
fair niece Rosaline ; Livia ; Signior Valentio, and Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both; This cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the lively Helena. And pity 'tis, you lived at odds so long.
A fair assembly; (Gives back the note.] Whither But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
should they come? Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before:
Serv. My master's.
house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
of wine. Rest you merry.
. My will to her consent is but a part;
Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's An she agree, within her scope of choice
Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so lov'st; Lies my consent and fair according voice.
With all the admired beauties of Verona : This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
Go thither; and with unattainted eye, Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Compare her face with some that I shall show,
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow,
Que fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
Herself pois'd with herself in either eye:
. Through fair Verona; find those persons out, Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, Whose names are written there, *[Gives a paper.) But to rejoice in splendour of mine ovo. (Exeuns.
and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay:
A room in CAPULET's house. [Exeunt Capulet and Paris.
Enter Lady CAPULET (2nd Nurse. Serr. Find them out, whose names are written La. Cap. Nurse, where's my daughter? call her here? It is written — that the shoemaker should forth to me! meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, Nurse. Now, by my maiden-head, - at twelve year the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his old, nets: but I am sent to find those persons, whose I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!names are here writ, and can never find what names God forbid ! - where's this girl? what Juliet! the writing person hath here writ. I must to the
Enter JULIET. learned. - In good time.
Jul. How now, who calls ?
Nurse. Your mother. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's Jul, Madam, I am here. burning,
What is your will ?
La. Cap. This is the matter.- Nurse, give leare
-Nurse, come back again
! Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
I have remember'd me, thou shalt hear our coupscl. And the rank poison of the old will die.
Thou know'st, my daughter's of a pretty agen Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. Nurse. 'Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. Ben. For what, 1.pray thee?
Lu. Cap. She's not fourteen. Rom. For your broken shin.
Nurse. l'll lay fourteen of my teeth,
And yet, to my teen be it spoken; I have but four, -
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, Serv. God gi' good e'en. - I pray, sir, can you read? Some Lammas-eve at vight, shall she be fourteen. Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls!Serv. Perhaps you have learn’d it without book:
Were of an age. -- Well, Susan is with God; But I pray, can you read any thing you see? She was too good for me: but, as I said, Rom. Ay, if I know the letters, and the language. On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen
; Serv. Ye say honestly; rest you merry! That shall she, marry; I remember it well. Rom. Stay, fellow! I can read.
[Reads. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years ; Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters ; And she was weau'd, I never shall forget it, a
And what of
The lish liv For fair wit That booki
That in gol
Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making yourself no less.
La, Cap. Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
Jul. I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
Enter a Serrant.
up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse And since that time it is eleven years :
cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity, For then she could stand alove; nay, by the rood, I must hence to wait ; I beseech you, follow straight! She could have run and waddled all about.
La. Cap. We follow thee!— Juliet, the county stays. For even the day before, she broke her brow: Nurse. Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days! And then my husband — God be with his soul!
SCENE IV.– A street.
Or shall we on without apology?
Ben. The date is out of such prolixity:
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
After the prompter, for our entrance:
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
Rom. Give me a torch, – I am not for this ambling;
Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have dance.
Rom. I am too sore empierced with his shaft,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's heavy burden do ) sink.
Too rude, too boisť’rons; and it pricks like thorn.
(Putting on a mask. Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
A visor for a visor! - what care , Are made already mothers : by my count,
What curious eye
doth quote deformities? I was your mother much upon these years
Here are the beetle-brows, shall blush for me. That you are now a maid. Thus then, in brief; Ben. Come, knock, and enter! and no sooner in, The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
But every man betake him to his legs. Nurse. A man, young lady! lady, such a man, Rom. A torch for me! let wantons, light of heart, As all the world — Why, he's a man of wax. Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; La. Cap. Verona's summer hath not such a flower. For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, Nurse. Nay, he's a flower; iu faith, a very flower ! I'll be a candle-holder, anil look on, La. Cap. What say you? can you love the gen- The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. tleman?
Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own This night you shall behold him at our feast;
word: Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; of this (save reverence) love, wherein thou stich'st Examine every married lineament,
Up to the ears. - Come, we burn day-light, ho! And see how one another lends content;
Rom. Nay, that's not so. And what obscurd in this fair volume lies,
Mer. I mean, sir, in delay Find written in the margin of liis eyes.
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. This precious book of love, this mubound lover, Take our good meaning; for our judgment sits To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
Five times in that, ere once in our fire wits. The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride, Rom. And we mean weil, in going to this mask; For fair withont the fair within to hide:
But 'is no wit to go. That book in many's eves doth share the glory, Mer. Why, may one ask? 'That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night.
I have my