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| ISBN-13: | 9781843443681 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Oldcastle Books |
| Publication date: | 04/01/2015 |
| Series: | Pulp! The Classics |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 192 |
| File size: | 543 KB |
ACT I, SCENE I
Verona. A public place.
Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, with swords and bucklers, of the house of Capulet.
SAMPSON Gregory, on my word we'll not carry coals.
GREGORY No, for then we should be colliers.
SAMPSON I mean, and we be in choler, we'll draw.
GREGORY Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of 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 'Tis 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 civil with the maids, I will 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 of the house of Montagues.
Enter two other servingmen, ABRAM and BALTHASAR.
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 disgrace to them if they bear it.
ABRAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
SAMPSON I do bite my thumb, sir.
ABRAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
SAMPSON [aside to GREGORYITL] Is the law of our side if I say ay?
GREGORY [aside to SAMPSON] No.
SAMPSON No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.
GREGORY Do you quarrel, sir?
ABRAM Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
SAMPSON But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
ABRAM No better.
SAMPSON Well, sir.
Enter BENVOLIO.
GREGORY Say 'better', here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
SAMPSON Yes, better, sir.
ABRAM You lie.
SAMPSON Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.
[They fight.]
BENVOLIO Part, fools, put up your swords, you know not what you do.
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 three or four Citizens with clubs or partisans.
CITIZENS
Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
Enter old 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?
Enter old MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE.
CAPULET
My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
MONTAGUE
Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not! Let me go!
LADY MONTAGUE
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
Enter Prince ESCALUS with his train.
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 farther pleasure in this case,
To old Freetown, 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 prepar'd,
Which, as he breath'd 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 today?
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 drive me to walk abroad,
Where underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city 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,
Which then most sought, where most might not be found,
Being one too many by my weary self,
Pursu'd 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's 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 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 importun'd 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 anything of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen 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 press'd
With more of thine. This love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, 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;
And 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?
A word ill-urg'd to one that is so ill.
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
BENVOLIO
I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd.
ROMEO
A right good markman; 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 uncharm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms
Nor bide th' 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 starv'd 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 rul'd 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, puts 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.
CHAPTER 2ACT I, SCENE II
Verona. A street.
Enter CAPULET, PARIS and a 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.
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,
And she agreed, 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.
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
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] 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 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;
Take thou some new infection to thy eye
And the rank poison of the old will die.
ROMEO
Your plantain 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 madman is:
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented and – good e'en, good fellow.
SERVANT
God gi' good e'en: I pray, sir, can you read?
ROMEO
Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
SERVANT
Perhaps you have learned it without book.
But I pray, can you read anything 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. [He reads the letter.]
Signor Martino and his wife and daughters;
County Anselm and his beauteous sisters;
The lady widow of Utruvio;
Signor Placentio and his lovely nieces;
Mercutio and his brother Valentine;
Mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters;
My fair niece Rosaline and Livia;
Signor Valentio and his cousin Tybalt;
Lucio and the lively Helena.
A fair assembly. Whither should they come?
SERVANT
Up.
ROMEO
Whither to supper?
SERVANT
To our house.
ROMEO
Whose house?
SERVANT
My master's.
ROMEO
Indeed I should have asked 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 loves;
With all the admired beauties of Verona.
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 fire,
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:
Herself pois'd 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 seems best.
ROMEO
I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.
Exeunt.
Excerpted from Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. Copyright © 2014 William Shakespeare. Excerpted by permission of Oldcastle Books.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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