stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:-therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men. Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids? Sam. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh. Gre. "Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John.2 Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues." Enter Abram and Balthazar.. Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee. Gre. How? turn thy back, and run? Gre. No, marry: I fear thee! Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list. Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they Gre. To move, is-to stir; and to be valiant, is-bear it. stand to it: therefore, if thou art moved, thou unn'st away. Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to (1) A phrase formerly in use to signify the bearg injuries. VOL. II. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? (2) Poor John is hake, dried and salted." Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say—ay? Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you. Abr. No better. Sam. Well, sir. Enter Benvolio, at a distance. For this time, all the rest depart away: [Exe. Prince, and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my mas-I drew to part them; in the instant came ter's kinsmen. Sam. Yes, better, sir. Abr. You lie. Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. [They fight. Ben. Part, fools; put up your swords; you know not what you do. Beats down their swords. The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepar'd; La. Mon. O, where is Romeo?-aw you him heart-Right glad I am, he was not at this fray. Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. I hate As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: 1 Cil. Clubs,' bills, and partizans! strike! beat Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! Enter Capulet, in his gown; and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noise is this?-Give me my long sword, ho! La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword? Cap. My sword, I say!-Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter Montague and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain Capulet,-Hold me not, let me go. La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe. Enter Prince, with Attendants. Prince. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel, Will they not hear?-what ho! you men, you beasts, "That quench the fire of your pernicious rage 'With purple fountains issuing from your veins, 'On pain of torture, from those bloody hands 'Throw your mistemper'd' weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince.'Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, 'By thee, old Capulet and Montague, Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets; And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partizans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. (1) Clubs! was the usual exclamation at an af ray in the streets, as we now call Watch! Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen, Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the cause? Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow, Enter Romeo, at a distance. Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Ben. Good morrow, cousin. Is the day so young? Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? Rom. Not having that, which having, makes them short. Ben. In love? Rom. Out Ben. Of love? Rom. Out of her favour, where I am in love. Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Ben. No, coz, I rather weep. Rom. Good heart, at what? Ben. At thy good heart's oppression. Rom. Why, such is love's transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast; Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love, that thou hast shown, Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz. [Going. Ben. Soft, I will go along; And if you leave me so, you do me wrong. Rom. Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. Ben. Tell me in sadness,' who she is you love. Rom. What, shall I groan, and tell thee? Ben. But sadly tell me, who. Groan? why, no; Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urg'd to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. Ben. I aim'd so near, when I suppos'd you lov'd. Rom. A right good marksman!-And she's fair I love. Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. Rom. Well, in that hit, you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty; only poor, That, when she dies, with beauty dies her store. Ben. Then she hath sworn, that she will still live chaste? Rom. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste; For beauty, starv'd with her severity, She is too fair, too wise; wisely too fair, (1) In seriousness. (2) i. e. What end does it answer. (3) Account, estimation. To merit bliss by making me despair: Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. 'Tis the way Rom. To call hers, exquisite, in question more: [Exeunt. SCENE II-A street. Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant. Cap. And Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. Par. Of honourable reckoning are you both, And pity 'tis you liv'd at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? Cap. But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world, She hath not seen the change of fourteen years; Let two more summers wither in their pride, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. Par. Younger than she are happy mothers made. Cap. And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; And she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent, and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house, look to behold this night My house and welcome on their pleasures stay. Serv. Find them out, whose names are written here? It is written-that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons, whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hath here writ. I must to the learned :-In good time. (4) To inherit, in the language of Shakspeare, is to possess. (5) Estimation. Enter Benvolio and Romeo. Ben. Tut, man! one fire burns out another's One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish ; Rom. Your plantain leaf is excellent for that. For your broken shin. Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Serv. God gi' good e'en.-I pray, sir, can you read? Rom. Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. [Reads. We must talk in secret.-Nurse, come back again; I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, La. Cap. A fortnight, and odd days. Signior Martino, and his wife, and daughters; Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year, County Anselme, and his beauteous sisters; The Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen. lady widow of Vitruvio; Signior Placentio, and Susan and she,-God rest all Christian souls!his lovely nieces; Mercutio, and his brother Val-Were of an age.-Well, Susan is with God; entine: Mine uncle Capulet, his wife, and daugh- She was too good for me: But, as I said, ters; My fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen: Valentio, and his cousin Tybalt; Lucio, and the That shall she, marry; I remember it well. lively Helena. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd, I never shall forget it,— Of all the days of the year, upon that day: For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall, My lord and you were then at Mantua :Nay, I do bear a brain :-but, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Of my dug, and felt it bitter, pretty fool! To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug. Shake, quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge. A fair assembly; [Gives back the note.] Whither should they come? Serv. Up. Rom. Whither? Serv. To supper; to our house. Serv. My master's. Rom. Indeed, I should have asked you that before. Serv. Now I'll tell you without asking: My Ben. At this same ancient feast of Capulet's And since that time it is eleven years: I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it; Will thou not, Jule? quoth he: Rom. When the devout religion of mine eye And she shall scant show well, that now shows Rom. I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own. [Exeunt. (1) We still say in cant language-to crack a bottle. And, pretty fool, it stinted, and said-Ay. peace. Nurse. Yes, madam; Yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying, and say-Ay: (5) i. e. I have a perfect remembrance or recol lection. (6) The cross. (7) Holy dame, i. e. the blessed Virgin, |