ÆäÀÌÁö À̹ÌÁö
PDF
ePub

Rom. If I prophane with my unworthy hand [To Juliet: This holy fhrine, the gentle 7'fine

8

'be this, My lips two blufhing pilgrims ready stand,

To fmooth that rough touch with a tender kifs.
Jul. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which mannerly devotion fhews in this ;

For faints have hands that pilgrims hands do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers kifs.

Rom. Have not faints lips, and holy palmers too?
ful. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they muft ufe in prayer.
Rom. O then, dear faint, let lips do what hands do,
They pray; grant thou, left faith turn to despair.
Nurfe. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Rom. What is her mother?
[To ber Nurfe.

Nurse. Marry, batchelor,

Her mother is the Lady of the house,

And a good Lady, and a wife and virtuous.
I nurs'd her daughter that you talk withal:
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
Shall have the chink.

Rom. Is fhe a Capulet?

O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
Ben. Away, be gone, the fport is at the beft.
Rom. Ay, fo I fear, the more is my unrest.
Cap. Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en fo? why then, I thank you all.
I thank you, honeft gentlemen, good night:
More torches here come on, then let's to bed,

(a)

turn to despair.

Jul. Saints do not move, yet grant for prayers fake.
Rom. Then move not while my prayers effect I take:
Thus from my lips, by thine my fin is purg'd.

Jul. Then have my lips the fin that late they took.
Rom. Sin from my lips! O trefpafs fweetly urg'd:

Give me my fin again.

Jul. You kifs by th' book.

Nurfe. Madam, &'r.

Ah,

[Kiffing her.

[blocks in formation]

[Exeunt.

Ah, firrah, by my fay it waxes late.

I'll to my reft.

Jul. Come hither, nurfe. What is yon gentleman?
Nurfe. The fon and heir of old Tiberio.

Jul. What's he that now is going out of door?
Nurfe. That as I think is young Petruchio.

Jul. What's he that follows here, that would not dance?
Nurse. I know not.

Jul. Go ask his name. If he be married, My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurfe. His name is Romeo, and a Mountague,
The only fon of your great enemy.

Jul. My only love fprung from my only hate!
Too early feen, unknown; and known too late;
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.
Nurfe. What's this? what's this?
ful. A rhime I learn'd e'en now
Of one I danc'd withal.

Nurfe. Anon, anon

[One calls within, Juliet.

Come, let's away, the ftrangers all are gone.

Enter Chorus.

[Exeunt.

Cho. Now old defire doth on his death-bed lye,
And young affection gapes to be his heir:
That Fair for which love groan'd fore and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,

Alike bewitched by the charm of looks:
But to his foe fuppos'd he must complain,

And fhe fteal love's fweet bait from fearful hooks.

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe fuch vows as lovers ufe to fwear;
And fhe as much in love, her means much less
To meet her new beloved any where :

But paffion lends them power, time means to meet,
Temp'ring extremities with extream sweet.

[Exit.

ACT

RASK

ACT II. SCENE I.

The Street.

Enter Romeo alone.

ROMEO.

AN I go forward when my heart is here?
Turn back dull earth, and find thy center out. [Exit.

CA

Enter Benvolio with Mercutio.

Ben. Romeo, my coufin Romeo!

Mer. He is wife,

And, on my life, hath ftol'n him home to bed.

Ben. He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall. Call, good Mercutio.

Mer. Nay, I'll conjure too.

Why, Romeo! humours! madman! paffion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a Sigh,

Speak but one Rhime, and I am fatisfied.
Cry but Ab me! couple but love and dove,
Speak to my goffip Venus one fair word,
One nick-name to her pur-blind fon and heir,
(Young Abraham a Cupid, he that shot so true,
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid-)
He heareth not, he ftirreth not, he 'moves not,
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
I conjure thee by Rofaline's bright eyes,
By her high fore-head, and her fcarlet lip,
By her fine foot, ftraight leg, and quivering thigh,
And the demeafns that there adjacent lye,
That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

Ben.

(a) This, probably, was a name ftupidly given to Cupid in the old ballad here referr'd to of King Cophetua and the beggar-maid.

9 moveth

Ben. And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mer. This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
To raise a spirit in his miftrefs' circle,

Of some strange nature, letting it there ftand
'Till fhe had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were fome fpight. My invocation is
Honeft and fair, and in his mistress' name
I conjure only but to raise up him.

Ben. Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
To be conforted with the hum'rous night:
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Mer. If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he fit under a medlar-tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit,
Which maids call medlars, when they laugh alone-
Romeo, good night; I'll to my truckle-bed,
This field-bed is too cold for me to fleep:
Come, fhall we go?

Ben. Go then, for 'tis in vain

To feek him here that means not to be found. [Exeunt.

Rom.

[blocks in formation]

E jefts at scars that never felt a wound
But, foft! what light thro' yonder window
It is the east, and Juliet is the fun! [breaks?
[Juliet appears above at a window.

Arife, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already fick and pale with grief

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than fhe.
Be not her maid fince fhe is envious:

Her veftal livery is but fick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; caft it off—
She speaks, yet the fays nothing? what of that?

Her

Her eye difcourfes, I will anfwer it-
I am too bold, 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the fairest ftars of all the heav'n,
Having fome bufinefs, do intreat her eyes
To twinkle in their fpheres 'till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would fhame thofe ftars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eyes in heav'n
Would through the airy region ftream fo bright,
That birds would fing, and think it were not night:
See how fhe leans her cheek upon her hand!
O that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

Ful. Ah me!

Rom. She speaks.

Oh, fpeak again, bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged meffenger from heav'n,
Unto the white upturned wondring eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him,
When he beftrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon the bofom of the air.

Jul. O Romeo, Romeo,wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father, and refuse thy name:

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

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

Rom. Shall I hear more, or fhall I fpeak at this? [Afide. Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou'rt not thy felf fo, though a Mountague. What's Mountague? it is not hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face-nor any other part. What's in a name? that which we call a rose, By any other name would fmell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes, Without that title; Romeo, quit thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee, Take all my felf.

1 Thou art thy felf, though not a Mountague.

Rom.

« ÀÌÀü°è¼Ó »