William Shakespeare

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet

Warsaw 2019

Contents

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

PROLOGUE

ACT I

SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

SCENE II. A street.

SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.

SCENE IV. A street.

SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house.

ACT II

PROLOGUE

SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE IV. A street.

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell.

ACT III

SCENE I. A public place.

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

ACT IV

SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.

SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.

SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.

ACT V

SCENE I. Mantua. A street.

SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Escalus, prince of Verona

Paris, a young nobleman, kinsman to the prince

Heads of two houses at variance with each other

MONTAGUE

CAPULET

An old Man, cousin to Capulet.

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.

Franciscans

FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR JOHN

Balthasar, servant to Romeo.

SAMPSON, GREGORY, servants to Capulet.

Peter, servant to Juliet’s nurse.

Abraham, servant to Montague.

An Apothecary.

Three Musicians.

Page to Paris; another Page; an officer.

LADY Montague, wife to Montague.

LADY Capulet, wife to Capulet.

Juliet, daughter to Capulet.

Nurse to Juliet.

Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.

Chorus.

PROLOGUE

Enter Chorus

Chorus

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,

And the continuance of their parents’ rage,

Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,

Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

Exit.

ACT I

SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers

Sampson

Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.

Gregory

No, for then we should be colliers.

Sampson

I mean, as we be in choler, we’ll draw.

Gregory

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

Sampson

I strike quickly, being moved.

Gregory

But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

Sampson

A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

Gregory

To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:

therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.

Sampson

A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will

take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.

Gregory

That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes

to the wall.

Sampson

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.

Gregory

The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

Sampson

'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.

Gregory

The heads of the maids?

Sampson

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;

take it in what sense thou wilt.

Gregory

They must take it in sense that feel it.

Sampson

Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and

'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Gregory

'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.

Sampson

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

Gregory

How! turn thy back and run?

Sampson

Fear me not.

Gregory

No, marry; I fear thee!

Sampson

Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

Gregory

I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as

they list.

Sampson

Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;

which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR

Abraham

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sampson

I do bite my thumb, sir.

Abraham

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

Sampson

Aside to GREGORY Is the law of our side, if I say

ay?

Gregory

No.

Sampson

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I

bite my thumb, sir.

Gregory

Do you quarrel, sir?

Abraham

Quarrel sir! no, sir.

Sampson

If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

Abraham

No better.

Sampson

Well, sir.

Gregory

Say ‘better:’ here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.

Sampson

Yes, better, sir.

Abraham

You lie.

Sampson

Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

They fight
Enter BENVOLIO

Benvolio

Part, fools!

Put up your swords; you know not what you do.

Beats down their swords Enter TYBALT

Tybalt

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Benvolio

I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

Tybalt

What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:

Have at thee, coward!

They fight
Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs

First citizen

Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!

Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET

Capulet

What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!

Lady Capulet

A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?

Capulet

My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,

And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

Montague

Thou villain Capulet,–Hold me not, let me go.

Lady Montague

Thou shalt not stir a 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 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.

Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO

Montague

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Benvolio

Here were the servants of your adversary,

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,

Came more and more and fought on part and part,

Till the prince came, who parted either part.

Lady Montague

O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Benvolio

Madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sun

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 humour not pursuing his,

And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.

Montague

Many a morning hath he there been seen,

With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.

Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;

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 the 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 humour prove,

Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

Benvolio

My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

Montague

I neither know it nor can learn of him.

Benvolio

Have you importuned him by any means?

Montague

Both by myself and many other friends:

But he, his own affections’ counsellor,

Is to himself–I will not say how true–

But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery,

As is the bud bit with an envious worm,

Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,

Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.

We would as willingly give cure as know.

Enter ROMEO

Benvolio

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

I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.

Montague

I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,

To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let’s away.

Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

Benvolio

Good-morrow, cousin.

Romeo

Is the day so young?

Benvolio

But new struck nine.

Romeo

Ay me! sad hours seem long.

Was that my father that went hence so fast?

Benvolio

It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

Romeo

Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

Benvolio

In love?

Romeo

Out–

Benvolio

Of love?

Romeo

Out of her favour, where I am in love.

Benvolio

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,

Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Romeo

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,

Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!

Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?

Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.

Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!

O any thing, of nothing first create!

O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,

sick health!

Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

Dost thou not laugh?

Benvolio

No, coz, I rather weep.

Romeo

Good heart, at what?

Benvolio

At thy good heart’s oppression.

Romeo

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 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.

Benvolio

Soft! I will go along;

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Romeo

Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;

This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.

Benvolio

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.

Romeo

What, shall I groan and tell thee?

Benvolio

Groan! why, no.

But sadly tell me who.

Romeo

Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:

Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

Benvolio

I aim’d so near, when I supposed you loved.

Romeo

A right good mark-man! And she’s fair I love.

Benvolio

A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

Romeo

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.

Benvolio

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

Romeo

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.

Benvolio

Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.

Romeo

O, teach me how I should forget to think.

Benvolio

By giving liberty unto thine eyes;

Examine other beauties.

Romeo

'Tis the way

To call hers exquisite, in question more:

These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ brows

Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;

He that is strucken blind cannot forget

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:

Show me a mistress that is passing fair,

What doth her beauty serve, but as a note

Where I may read who pass’d that passing fair?

Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.

Benvolio

I’ll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

Exeunt

SCENE II. A street.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant

Capulet

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.

Paris

Of honourable reckoning are you both;

And pity ’tis you lived at odds so long.

But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

Capulet

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.

Paris

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

Capulet

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;

An 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.

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