go

1 Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? Bea. There lies that Tybalt. 1 Cit. Up, sir, with me; I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. Enter PRINCE attended; MONTAGUE, Capulet, their Wives, and others.

Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? Ben. 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.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!

O prince, O cousin,-husband,"-the blood is spill'd

Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-
O cousin, cousin!

Pria. Benvolio, who began this fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand
did slay;

Rouco that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure :-All this-uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly
bow'd,-

Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

So (C) and folio. (D). "unhappy sight, ah me," and in that copy, "O cousin, cousin!" in the third line beyond, is omitted. Some modern editors, in this and in other passages, have adopted the arbitrary course of making up a text out of the first quarto and the quarto of 1599, without regard to the important circumstance that this later edition was "newly corrected, augmented, and amended,"--and that the folto, in nearly every essential particular, follows it.

b Slight.

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 agile 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 entertain'd 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.

La. Cap. 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.

Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's

friend;

His fault concludes but what the law should end, The life of Tybalt.

Prin.

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's found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence his body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter JULIET.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately."-
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night

a (A), hates. (C), heart's.

b (A). mansion. © Juliet's soliloquy ends here in the first quarto.

a

That, runaway's eyes may wink; and Romeo
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen !-
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,
It best agrees with night.-Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown
bold,

Think true love acted, simple modesty.

in night!

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.—
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd
night,

Give nie my Romeo: and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
But not possess'd it; and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day,
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient child, that hath new robes
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

Enter NURSE, with cords.

And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there?

the cords

a This reading is that of all the old copies. The passage has been a perpetual source of contention to the commentators. Their difficulties are well represented by Warburton's question-" What runaways are these, whose eyes Juliet is wishing to have stopped?" Warburton says Phoebus is the runaway. Steevens proves that Night is the runaway. Douce thinks that Juliet is the runaway. It has been suggested to us that in several early poems Cupid is styled Runaway. Monck Mason is confident that the passage ought to be "That Renomy's eyes may wink," Renomy being a new personage, created out of the French Renommée, and answering, we suppose, to the "Rumour" of Spenser. Zachary Jackson suggests that runaways is a misprint for unawares. The word unawares, in the old orthography, is unawayres (it is so spelt in the Third Part of Henry VI.), and the r, having been misplaced, produced this word of puzzle, runawayes. Mr. Collier adopts this reading. But Mr. Dyce objects: "That ways (the last syllable of run-aways) ought to be Day's, I feel next to certain; but what word originally preceded it I do not pretend to determine.

Whoever would have thought it ?-Romeo!

Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment

me thus ?

This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 1,*
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice :
I am not I, if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut, that make the answer, I.
If he be slain, say-I; or if not, no:
Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe.

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine
eyes,-

God save the mark !2-bere on his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore blood;-I swoonded at the sight.
Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrout,b
break at once!

To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I
had!

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd; and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord ?—
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished. Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day! it did. Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain !—
O, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ?--
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse.
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd,
All forsworn, all nought, all dissemblers.—
Ah, where 's my man? give me some aqua vitæ :-
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make
me old.

Shame come to Romeo!

Jul.

Blister'd be thy tongue,

For such a wish! he was not born to shame :

· Upon his brow shame is aslam'd to sit;
For 't is a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Narse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd
your cousin?

Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,

When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled

it ?

But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ?

That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
And Tybalt dead, that would have slain my
husband:

All this is comfort: Wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
But, O! it presses to my memory,
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds.
Tybalt is dead, and Romeo-banished;
That-banished, that one word-banished,
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,-
Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's dead,

a Thus (D). (C), dimme.

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
Romeo is banished,-to speak that word,
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead:-Romeo is banished,—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word's death; no words can that woe
sound.-

Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's

corse:

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Take up those cords :-Poor ropes, you are beguil'd,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd:
He made you for a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come, cord; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding
bed;

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse. Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo To comfort you :—I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night; I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true

knight,

Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished: Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. Rom. There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death:-then banished Is death mis-term'd. Calling death banishment, Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe, And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. Fri. O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, And turn'd that black word death to banishment. This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom. "T is torture, and not mercy heaven is here,

Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
But Romeo may not.-More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo: they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blessing from her lips;
Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
This may flies do, when I from this must fly—
(And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death)—
But Romeo may not, he is banished.b

Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground

knife,

No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But-banished-to kill me; banished?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word-banished?

Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.

Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that

word;

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

Rom. Yet banished?-Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,

a (A), Hence.

b We have restored this passage to the reading of the folio. The lines were transposed by Steevens, without regard to any copy. In the first quarto the passage is altogether different. In that of 1609 it runs thus:

"This may flies do, when I from this must fly ;-
(And say'st thou yet that exile is not death)-

But Romeo may not, he is banished.

Flies may do this, but I from this must fly,
They are free men, but I am banished."

• Thus (D).

Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom;
It helps not, it prevails not, talk no more.
Fri. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
Rom. How should they, when that wise men
have no eyes?

Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou
tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Fri. Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide
[Knocking within.
Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick

thyself.

Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?
Where is she? and how doth she? and what
says

My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love ?

Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;

And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again.

Rom. As if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand Murder'd her kinsman.-O tell me, friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge ? tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion. [Draws his sword. Fri. Hold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art; Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast: Unseemly woman, in a seeming man! And ill-beseeming beast, in seeming both! Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper'd. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And slay thy lady that in thy life lives," By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?

Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet

In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.

Fie, fie! thou sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit;

Which, like an usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy

wit.

Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digressing from the valour of a man:
Thy dear love sworn, but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to

cherish :

Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask,3
Is set a-fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;

▲ (4) reads—

"And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee."

There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy :* The law, that threaten'd death, became thy friend,

с

And turn'd it to exile; there art thou happy :
A pack of blessing lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehav'db and sullen wench,
Thou puttest up thy fortune and thy love:
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her;
But, look thou stay not till the watch be set,
For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of thy prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
Go, before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto :
Romeo is coming.

Nurse. O Lord, I could have staid here all

the night,

To hear good counsel: O, what learning is !— My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to

chide.

Nurse. Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:

Hie

you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit Nurse. Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands all your state;

Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence;
Sojourn in Mantua: I'll find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here:
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good
night.

Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief so brief to part with thee: Farewell.

[Exeunt.