Imagens das páginas
PDF
ePub
[ocr errors][merged small]

Alarums. Enter KING RICHARD.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Cate. Withdraw, my lord; I'll help you to a horse.

K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast,

10

And I will stand the hazard of the die :
I think there be six Richmonds in the field;
Five have I slain to-day instead of him.
A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse !
[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Another part of the field. Alarum. Enter RICHARD and RICHMOND; they fight. RICHARD is slain. Retreat and flourish. Re-enter RICHMOND, DERBY bearing the crown, with divers other Lords. Richm. God and your arms be praised, victorious friends;

The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.
Der. Courageous Richmond, well-hast thou
acquit thee.

Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal :
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richm. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all!

But, tell me, is young George Stanley_living? Der. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester

[blocks in formation]

Der. John Duke of Norfolk, Walter Lord Ferrers,

Sir Robert Brackenbury, and Sir William Brandon.

Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births:

Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled
That in submission will return to us :
And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose and the red :
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
20
That long have frown'd upon their enmity!
What traitor hears me, and says not amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd her-
self;

The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire :
All this divided York and Lancaster,
Divided in their dire division,

30

O, now, let Richmond and Elizabeth,
The true succeeders of each royal house,
By God's fair ordinance conjoin together!
And let their heirs, God, if thy will be so,
Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced
peace,

With smiling plenty and fair prosperous days!
Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord,
That would reduce these bloody days again,
And make poor England weep in streams of
blood!

Let them not live to taste this land's increase That would with treason wound this fair land's peace!

Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again :

That she may long live here, God say amen! [Exeunt

[graphic]

ROMEO AND JULIET.

(TWO DATES ARE ASSIGNED TO IT, 1591 AND 1596-97.)

INTRODUCTION.

The story of the unhappy lovers of Verona, as a supposed historical occurrence, is referred to theyear 1303; but no account of it exists of an earlier date than that of Luigi da Porto, about 1530. The story quickly acquired a European celebrity. Published by Bandello in his collection of Italian novels in 1554, it was translated into French in 1559 by Pierre Boisteau, and in three years more touched English soil. Arthur Brooke in 1562 produced his long metrical version, founded upon Boisteau's novel, and a pure translation of Boisteau's work appeared in Paynter's Palace of Pleasue in 1557. We have here reached Shakespeare's sources: Paynter he probably consulted; in nearly all essentials he follows the Romeus and Juliet of Brooke. The precise date of Shakespeare's play is uncertain. In 1597 it was published in quarto," as it hath been often (with great applause) plaid publiquely by the right Honorable the Lord of Hunsdon his servants." Now the Lord Chamberlain, Henry Lord Hunsdon, died July 22, 1596; his son, George Lord Hunsdon, was appointed Chamberlain in April, 1597. Before July, 1596, or after April, 1597, the theatrical company would have been styled by the more honorable designation, "the Lord Chamberlain's servants;" but during the interval they would have been described as on the title-page of the quarto. The Nurse's mention of the earthquake (Act I Sc. III., L. 23), 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years," has been referred to as giving the date 1591, a memorable earthquake, felt in London, having occurred in 1580; but, while professing an infallibly accurate recollection, the old woman blunders sadly bout her dates, so that even if an actual English earthquake were alluded to, the point of the jest may have been in the inaccuracy of the reference. The internal evidence favors the opinion that this tragedy was an early work of the poet, and that it was subsequently revised and enlarged. There is much rhyme, and much of this is in the form f alternate rhyme; the forced playing upon words, and the overstrained conceits point to an arly date. We may perhaps accept the opinion that the play was begun, and in part written, as early as 1591, and that it assumed its final form about 1597. Apart from its intrinsic beauty, Romeo and Juliet is of deep interes when viewed as Shakespeare's first tragedy, and as a work which probably occupied hi. thoughts, from time to time, during a series of years. It is a young man's tragedy, in which Youth and Love are brought face to face with Hatred and Death. The scene is essentially Italian: the burning noon of July in the Italian city inflame the blood of the strect quarrelers; the voluptuous moonlit nights are only like a softer day. And the characters are Italian, with their yrical ardor, their southern impetuosity of passion, and the southern forms and color of their speech. Romeo's nature is prone to enthusiastic feeling, and, as it were, vaguely trembling in the direction of lovebefore he sees Juliet; to meet her gives form and fixit, to his vague emotion. To Juliet-a girl of fourteen-love comes as a thing previously unknown; it is at once terrible and blissful; she rises, through love, and sorrow, and trial, from a child into a heroic woman. Shakespeare has exalted their enthusiastic joy and rapture to the highest point, he suddenly casts it down. Romeo is at first completely unmanned; but Juliet exhibits a noble fortitude and self command. Mercutio and the Nurse are almost creations of Shakespeare. Brooke had described Mercutio as "a lion among maidens," and speaks of his "ice-cold hand;" but it was the dramatist who drew at full length the figure of this brilliant being, who though with wit running beyond what is becoming, and effervescent animal spirits, yet acts as a guardian of Romeo, and is always a gallant gentleman. He dies forcing a jest through his bodily anguish, but he dies on Romeo's behalf: the scene darkens as his figure disappears. The action is accelerated by Shakespeare to the utmost, the four or five months of Brooke's poem being reduced to as many days. On Sunday the lovers meet, next day they are made one in marriage, on Tuesday morning at dawn they part, and they are finally re-united in the tomb on the night of Thursday. Shakespeare does not close the tragedy with Juliet's death: as he has shown in the first scene the hatred of the houses through the comic quarrel of the servants, thereby introducing the causes which produce the tragic issue, so in the last scene he shows us the houses sorrowfully reconciled over the dead bodies of a son and daughter.

ESCALUS, prince of Verona.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

PARIS, a young nobleman, kinsman to the

prince.

MONTAGUE, heads of two houses at variance

CAPULET,

with each other.

An old man, cousin to Capulet.

(264)

ROMEO, son to Montague.

MERCUTIO, kinsman to the prince, and friend to Romeo.

BENVOLIO, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.

TYBALT, nephew to Lady Capulet.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

SCENE I. Verona. A public place. Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers.

Sam. Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.

Gre. No, for then we should be colliers. Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.

Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.

Sam. I strike quickly, being moved. Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Sam. A dog of the house of Montague

moves me.

10

Gre. To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

Sam. A dog of that house shall move me to 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, and cut off their heads.

29

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. Draw thy tool; here comes two of the house of the Montagues.

Sam. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

Gre. How! turn thy back and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Gre. No, marry; I fear thee!

40

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 bear it. 50

Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? Sam. [Aside to Gre.] Is the law of our side, if I say ay?

Gre. No.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

Enter several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs. First Cit. Clubs, bills, and partisans ! strike beat them down! 80 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 a foot to seek a foe.

Enter PRINCE, with Attendants. Prin. Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

Profaners of this neighbor-stained steel,Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,

90

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, 100
To wield old partisans, 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.
For this time, all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me:
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-

place.

109

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. [Exeunt all but Montague, Lady Montague, and Benvolio. Mon. Who set this ancient quarrel new

abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began ? Ben. Here were the servants of your ad

versary,

And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, He swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, 120 Came more and more and fought on part and part,

Till the prince came, who parted either part. La. Mon. O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd

sun

130

Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city's side,
So early walking did I see your son :
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
And stole into the covert of the wood :
I, measuring his affections by my own,
That most are busied when they're most alone,
Pursued my humor not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
Mon. Many a morning hath he there been

seen,

[sighs;

140

With tears augmenting the fresh morning's
dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out
And makes himself an artificial night :
Black and portentous must this humor prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
Ben. My noble uncle, do you know the
cause?

Mon. I neither know it nor can learn of him. 150

Ben. Have you importuned him by any means?

Mon. Both by myself and many other

friends:

[blocks in formation]

We would as willingly give cure as know.

Ben.

Enter ROMEO.

See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;

I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. Mon. I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,

To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's
away. [Exeunt Montague and Lady.
Ben. Good-morrow, cousin.
Rom.

Is the day so young?
Ben. But new struck nine.
Rom.

Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast Ben. It was. What sadness lengthens

[blocks in formation]

No, coz, I rather weep.

190

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 nine own.
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, 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.

200

Ben. Soft! I will go along; An 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 is that you love.

Rom. What, shall I groan and tell thee?
Ben.
Groan! why, no.

But sadly tell me who.

Rom. Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:

210

Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Ben. I aim'd so near, when I supposed you
loved.

Rom. A right good mark-man! 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.

220

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 starved with her severity
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.

230

[blocks in formation]

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant. Cap. But 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 honorable reckoning are you both; And pity 'tis you lived 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;

« AnteriorContinuar »