The Complete Works of Shakspeare, Revised from the Best Authorities : with a Memoir, and Essay on His Genius

't is

Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch: marry, enough. Where is my page?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page.

Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 't is enough, 't will serve. Ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' both your houses! - What, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! - Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. Rom. I thought all for the best.

Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint. - A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms'-meat of me:

I have it, and soundly too. - Your houses!

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Rom. This gentleman, the Prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf: my reputation stained With Tybalt's slander; Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my cousin :-O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, And in my temper softened valor's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's O prince, —O cousin, — husband, — the blood is

Cold death aside, and with the other send It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity Retorts it home: Romeo he cries aloud,

And bring in cloudy night immediately.— Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That enemies' eyes may wink, and Romeo

"Hold, friends! friends, part!" and, swifter than Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen!

-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 entertained 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.

Lady C. 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:

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,
Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
Hood thy unmanned blood, bating in my checks,
With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown
bold,

Think true love acted, simple modesty.
Come, night!-Come, Romeo! come, thou day
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-browed
night!

Give me 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. —

His fault concludes but what the law should end, O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

The life of Tybalt.

Prin.

And for that offense,

Immediately we do exile him hence.

I have an interest in your hates' proceeding;
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding:
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine,
shall all repent the loss of mine.

That you
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 this body, and attend our will;
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Alack the day!—-he's gone, he 's killed, he's When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me No faith, no honesty in men: all perjured,

thus?

This torture should be roared in dismal hell.

Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but "Ay,"
And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I, if there be such an "Ay;"

Or those eyes shut that make thee answer "Ay."
If he be slain, say "Ay;" or if not, "No:"
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine

Blistered be thy tongue

For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
For 't is a throne where honor may be crowned
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse. Will you speak well of him that killed
your cousin?

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

Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrout, break Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy

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 slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-loved 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 killed 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 face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? *Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical! Dove-feathered raven! wolfish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of Divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st; A damnéd saint, an honorable villain !

O, nature! what hadst thou to do in hell,

name,

When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it? But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain cousin would have killed my hus

band: :

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's dead, that would have slain my hus-
band:

All this is comfort: wherefore weep I, then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murdered me: I would forget it fain;
But O! it presses to my memory,

Like damnéd guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
"Tybalt is dead, and Romeo-banished: "
That "banishéd," 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 ranked with other griefs,
Why followed not, when she said "Tybalt's
dead,"

"Thy father," or "thy mother," nay, or both,

Which modern lamentation might have moved?
But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
"Romeo is banishéd!"-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,

Rom. What less than doomsday is the Prince's
doom?"

Fri. A gentler judgment vanished from his lips:
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Rom. Ha! banishment? Be merciful, say
"death:"

In that word's death; no words can that woe For exile hath more terror in his look,

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 be-
guiled,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:
He made you for a highway to my bed;

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowéd.

Much more than death: do not say "banishment."
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 banishéd is banished from the world,
And world's exíle is death. Then banishment
Is death mistermed: calling death banishment,
Thou cutt'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 rushed aside the law,

Come, cords; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding- And turned that black word "death" to "banish

Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true Live here in heaven, and may look on her;

knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. - FRIAR LAURENCE's Cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO.

But Romeo may not. - More validity,
More honorable state, more courtship, lives
In carrion flies than Romeo: they may scize
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;
But Romeo may not; he is banished:
Flies may do this, when I from this must fly:

Fri. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fear- They are free men, but I am banishéd.

ful man:

Affliction is enamored of thy parts,

And thou art wedded to calamity.

And says thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground
knife,

Rom. Father, what news? what is the Prince's No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,

Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.

Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Fri. I'll give thee armor to keep off that word:
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banishéd.
Rom. Yet "banishéd?"- Hang up philosophy!
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
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 what thou dost
not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murderéd,
Doting like me, and like me banished,

Then mightst thou speak, then mightst 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
thyself.
[Knocking within.
Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick
groans,

Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.

[Knocking. Fri. Hark, how they knock!- Who's there? -Romeo, arise;

Thou wilt be taken :-Stay awhile: - stand up;
[Knocking.
Run to my study: - By and by:- - God's will!
What wilfulness is this?—I come, I come.

[Knocking. Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubber-
ing.

Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Rom. Nurse!

Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir!-Well, death's the
end of all.

Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth she not think me an old murderer,
Now I have stained the childhood of our joy
With blood removed but little from her own?
Where is she, and how doth she, and what says
My cóncealed lady to our canceled love?

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

The hateful mansion.
Fri.

Did murder her; as that name's curséd hand
Murdered 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
[Drawing his sword.
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!
Or ill-beseeming beast, in seeming both!
Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,

Nurse [within]. Let me come in, and you shall I thought thy disposition better tempered.

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The Complete Works of Shakspeare, Revised from the Best ..., Volume 1