Romeo and Juliet/ Romeo und Juliette E-Book

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: Seltzer Books
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 268

Beschreibung

Bilingual, English and German. Shakespearean tragedy, all 11 in English, with line numbers, and 7 of them translated to German by Christoph Martin Wieland. According to Wikipedia: Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy written early in the career of playwright William Shakespeare about two young star-crossed lovers whose deaths ultimately unite their feuding families. It is among Shakespeare's most popular archetypal stories of young, teenage lovers. Romeo and Juliet belongs to a tradition of tragic romances stretching back to antiquity. Its plot is based on an Italian tale, translated into verse as The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet by Arthur Brooke in 1562 and retold in prose in Palace of Pleasure by William Painter in 1582. Shakespeare borrowed heavily from both but, to expand the plot, developed supporting characters, particularly Mercutio and Paris. Believed written between 1591 and 1595, the play was first published in a quarto version in 1597."

Leseprobe

ROMEO AND JULIET, BILILNGUAL EDITION (IN ENGLISH WITH LINE NUMBERS AND IN GERMAN) 

published by Samizdat Express, Orange, CT, USA

established in 1974, offering over 14,000 books

Shakespeare tragedies in German translation:

Coriolanus (Tieck)

Hamlet (Wieland)

Julius Caesar (Schlegel)

Lear (Wieland)

Macbeth (Wieland and Tieck)

Othello (Wieland)

Romeo und Juliette (Wieland)

Timon Von Athen (Wieland)

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ROMEO AND JULIET

ROMEO UND JULIETTE, EIN TRAUERSPIEL, VON WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, ÜBERSETZT VON CHRISTOPH MARTIN WIELAND

_____________

ROMEO AND JULIET BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Dramatis Personae

Romeo And Juliet

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. (Prince:)

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. (Second 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.

Servants To Capulet

Sampson

Gregory

Peter, Servant To Juliet's Nurse.

Abraham, Servant To Montague.

An Apothecary. (Apothecary:)

Three Musicians.

 (First Musician:)

 (Second Musician:)

 (Third Musician:)

Page To Paris; (Page:) Another Page; An Officer.

Lady Montague, Wife To Montague.

Lady Capulet, Wife To Capulet.

Juliet, Daughter To Capulet.

Nurse to Juliet. (Nurse:)

Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses;

Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.

 (First Citizen:)

 (Servant:)

 (First Servant:)

 (Second Servant:)

 (First Watchman:)

 (Second Watchman:)

 (Third Watchman:)

 Chorus.

SCENE Verona: Mantua.

ROMEO AND JULIET

 PROLOGUE

 [Enter CHORUS]

(1) 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;

 Whole misadventured piteous overthrows

 Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

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

(10) 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.

ACT I

SCENE I Verona. A public place.

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

(1) SAMPSON Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.

GREGORY No, for then we should be colliers.

SAMPSON I mean, an 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.

(10) 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,

(20) 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?

(30) 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.

(40) 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;

(50) 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?

(60) 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.

(70) 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]

(80) 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,--

(90) 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

(100) 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.

(110) 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:

(120) 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,

(130) 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;

(140) 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 far 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?

(150) 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.

(160) 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?

(170) 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?

(180) 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?

(190) 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,

(200) 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!

(210) 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,

(220) 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

(230) 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:

(240) 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]

(1) 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,

(10) 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.

(20) 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

 Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:

 Such comfort as do lusty young men feel

 When well-apparell'd April on the heel

 Of limping winter treads, even such delight

 Among fresh female buds shall you this night

(30) Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,

 And like her most whose merit most shall be:

 Which on more view, of many mine being one

 May stand in number, though in reckoning none,

 Come, go with me.

 [To SERVANT, giving a paper]

 Go, sirrah, trudge about

 Through fair Verona; find those persons out

 Whose names are written there, and to them say,

 My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

 [Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS]

SERVANT Find them out whose names are written here! It is

 written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his

(40) 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.

 [Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO]

BENVOLIO Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,

 One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;

 Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;

 One desperate grief cures with another's languish:

(50) Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

 And the rank poison of the old will die.

ROMEO Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.

BENVOLIO For what, I pray thee?

ROMEO For your broken shin.

BENVOLIO Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

ROMEO Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;

 Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

 Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow.

SERVANT God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

(60) ROMEO Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

SERVANT Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I

 pray, can you read any thing you see?

ROMEO Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

SERVANT Ye say honestly: rest you merry!

ROMEO Stay, fellow; I can read.

 [Reads]

 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;

 County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady

 widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely

(70) nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine

 uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece

 Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin

 Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair

 assembly: whither should they come?

SERVANT Up.

ROMEO Whither?

SERVANT To supper; to our house.

ROMEO Whose house?

(80) SERVANT My master's.

ROMEO Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.

SERVANT Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the

 great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house

 of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.

 Rest you merry!

 [Exit]

BENVOLIO At this same ancient feast of Capulet's

 Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,

 With all the admired beauties of Verona:

(90) Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,

 Compare her face with some that I shall show,

 And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

ROMEO When the devout religion of mine eye

 Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;

 And these, who often drown'd could never die,

 Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!

 One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun

 Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.

BENVOLIO Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,

(100) Herself poised with herself in either eye:

 But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd

 Your lady's love against some other maid

 That I will show you shining at this feast,

 And she shall scant show well that now shows best.

ROMEO I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,

 But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

 [Exeunt]

SCENE III A room in Capulet's house.

 [Enter LADY CAPULET and NURSE]

(1) LADY CAPULET Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.

NURSE Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,

 I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!

 God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!

 [Enter JULIET]

JULIET How now! who calls?

NURSE Your mother.

JULIET Madam, I am here.

 What is your will?

LADY CAPULET This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile,

 We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again;

 I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.

(10) Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

NURSE Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

LADY CAPULET She's not fourteen.

NURSE I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--

 And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--

 She is not fourteen. How long is it now

 To Lammas-tide?

LADY CAPULET                   A fortnight and odd days.

NURSE Even or odd, of all days in the year,

 Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.

 Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--

 Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;

(20) She was too good for me: but, as I said,

 On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;

 That shall she, marry; I remember it well.

 '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,

(30) 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:

 And since that time it is eleven years;

 For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,

 She could have run and waddled all about;

 For even the day before, she broke her brow:

 And then my husband--God be with his soul!

(40) A' was a merry man--took up the child:

 'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?

 Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;

 Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,

 The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'

 To see, now, how a jest shall come about!

 I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,

 I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;

 And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'

LADY CAPULET Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

(50) NURSE Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,

 To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'

 And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow

 A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;

 A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:

 'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?

 Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;

 Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'

JULIET And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.

NURSE Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!

(60) Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:

 An I might live to see thee married once,

 I have my wish.

LADY CAPULET Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme

 I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,

 How stands your disposition to be married?

JULIET It is an honour that I dream not of.

NURSE An honour! were not I thine only nurse,

 I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

LADY CAPULET Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,

(70) Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

 Are made already mothers: by my count,

 I was your mother much upon these years

 That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:

 The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

NURSE A man, young lady! lady, such a man

 As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.

LADY CAPULET Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

NURSE Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.

LADY CAPULET What say you? can you love the gentleman?

(80) This night you shall behold him at our feast;

 Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,

 And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;

 Examine every married lineament,

 And see how one another lends content

 And what obscured in this fair volume lies

 Find written in the margent of his eyes.

 This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

 To beautify him, only lacks a cover:

 The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride

(90) For fair without the fair within to hide:

 That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,

 That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;

 So shall you share all that he doth possess,

 By having him, making yourself no less.

NURSE No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.

LADY CAPULET Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

JULIET I'll look to like, if looking liking move:

 But no more deep will I endart mine eye

 Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

 [Enter a SERVANT]

(100) SERVANT Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you

 called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in

 the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must

 hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

LADY CAPULET We follow thee.

 [Exit SERVANT]

 Juliet, the county stays.

NURSE Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

 [Exeunt]

SCENE IV A street.

 [Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]

(1) ROMEO What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

 Or shall we on without a apology?

BENVOLIO The date is out of such prolixity:

 We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,

 Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,

 Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;

 Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke

 After the prompter, for our entrance:

 But let them measure us by what they will;

(10) We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.

ROMEO Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;

 Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

MERCUTIO Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

ROMEO Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes

 With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead

 So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,

 And soar with them above a common bound.

ROMEO I am too sore enpierced with his shaft

(20) To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,

 I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:

 Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

MERCUTIO And, to sink in it, should you burden love;

 Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROMEO Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,

 Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

MERCUTIO If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

 Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

 Give me a case to put my visage in:

(30) A visor for a visor! what care I

 What curious eye doth quote deformities?

 Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

BENVOLIO Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,

 But every man betake him to his legs.

ROMEO A torch for me: let wantons light of heart

 Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,

 For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;

 I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.

 The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

(40) MERCUTIO Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:

 If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire

 Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st

 Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

ROMEO Nay, that's not so.

MERCUTIO I mean, sir, in delay

 We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.

 Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

 Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

ROMEO And we mean well in going to this mask;

 But 'tis no wit to go.

MERCUTIO Why, may one ask?

ROMEO I dream'd a dream to-night.

(50) MERCUTIO And so did I.

ROMEO Well, what was yours?

MERCUTIO That dreamers often lie.

ROMEO In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

MERCUTIO O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.

 She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

 In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

 On the fore-finger of an alderman,

 Drawn with a team of little atomies

 Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;

 Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,

(60) The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,

 The traces of the smallest spider's web,

 The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,

 Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,

 Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,

 Not so big as a round little worm

 Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;

 Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut

 Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

 Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

(70) And in this state she gallops night by night

 Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;

 O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,

 O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,

 O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,

 Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

 Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:

 Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,

 And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;

 And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail

(80) Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,

 Then dreams, he of another benefice:

 Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

 And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

 Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

 Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon

 Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,

 And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two

 And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

 That plats the manes of horses in the night,

(90) And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,

 Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:

 This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

 That presses them and learns them first to bear,

 Making them women of good carriage:

 This is she--

ROMEO                   Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!

 Thou talk'st of nothing.

MERCUTIO True, I talk of dreams,

 Which are the children of an idle brain,

 Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

 Which is as thin of substance as the air

(100) And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes

 Even now the frozen bosom of the north,

 And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,

 Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;

 Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

ROMEO I fear, too early: for my mind misgives

 Some consequence yet hanging in the stars

 Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

 With this night's revels and expire the term

(110) Of a despised life closed in my breast

 By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

 But He, that hath the steerage of my course,

 Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.

BENVOLIO Strike, drum.

 [Exeunt]

SCENE V A hall in Capulet's house.

 [MUSICIANS waiting. Enter SERVINGMEN with napkins]

(1) FIRST SERVANT Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He

 shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!