William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (184 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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Enter the Nurse,
⌈
wringing her hands,
⌉
with the ladder of cords
⌈
in her lap
⌉
O, here comes my Nurse,
And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Now, Nurse, what news ? What, hast thou there
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?
And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Now, Nurse, what news ? What, hast thou there
The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?
NURSE ⌈
putting down the cords
⌉ Ay, ay, the cords.
putting down the cords
⌉ Ay, ay, the cords.
JULIET
Ay me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands?
NURSE
Ah, welladay! He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!
We are undone, lady, we are undone.
Alack the day, he’s gone, he’s killed, he’s dead!
We are undone, lady, we are undone.
Alack the day, he’s gone, he’s killed, he’s dead!
JULIET
Can heaven be so envious?
NURSE Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo,
Who ever would have thought it Romeo?
Who ever would have thought it Romeo?
JULIET
What devil art thou that dost torment me 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 makes thee answer ‘Ay’.
If he be slain, say ‘Ay’; or if not, ‘No’.
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
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 makes 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 eyes,
God save the mark, here on his manly breast—
A piteous corpse, a bloody, piteous corpse—
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,
All in gore blood; I swooned at the sight.
God save the mark, here on his manly breast—
A piteous corpse, a bloody, piteous corpse—
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,
All in gore blood; I swooned at the sight.
JULIET
O, break, my heart, poor bankrupt, break 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!
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!
O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman,
That ever I should live to see thee dead!
JULIET
What storm is this that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest cousin and my dearer lord?
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom,
For who is living if those two are gone?
Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead?
My dearest 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.
Romeo that killed him—he is banished.
JULIET
O God, did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood?
⌈NURSE⌉
It did, it did, alas the day, it did.
⌈JULIET⌉
O serpent heart hid with a flow‘ring face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despisèd substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st—
A damnèd saint, an honourable villain.
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb!
Despisèd substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem’st—
A damnèd saint, an honourable villain.
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous palace!
NURSE
There’s no trust, no faith, no honesty in men;
All perjured, all forsworn, all naught, dissemblers all.
Ah, where’s my man? Give me some aqua vitae.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
All perjured, all forsworn, all naught, dissemblers all.
Ah, where’s my man? Give me some aqua vitae.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!
JULIET Blistered be thy tongue
For such a wish! He was not born to shame.
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit,
For ’tis a throne where honour may be crowned
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit,
For ’tis a throne where honour 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?
JULIET
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy 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 husband.
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 husband.
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 damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds!
‘Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.’
That ‘banishèd’, that one word ‘banishèd’
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 rearward following Tybalt’s death,
‘Romeo is banishèd‘-to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. ‘Romeo is banishèd’—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word’s death. No words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy 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 husband.
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 husband.
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 damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds!
‘Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banished.’
That ‘banishèd’, that one word ‘banishèd’
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 rearward following Tybalt’s death,
‘Romeo is banishèd‘-to speak that word
Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
All slain, all dead. ‘Romeo is banishèd’—
There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
In that word’s death. No words can that woe sound.
Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?
NURSE
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corpse.
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
JULIET
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 beguiled,
Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled.
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come, cords; come, Nurse; I’ll to my wedding bed,
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment.
Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguiled,
Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled.
He made you for a highway to my bed,
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Come, cords; come, Nurse; I’ll to my wedding bed,
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
NURSE (
taking up the cords
)
taking up the cords
)
Hie to your chamber. I’ll find Romeo
To comfort you. I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
I’ll to him. He is hid at Laurence’ cell.
To comfort you. I wot well where he is.
Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
I’ll to him. He is hid at Laurence’ cell.
JULIET (
giving her a ring
)
giving her a ring
)
O, find him! Give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Exeunt
⌈
severally
⌉
Enter Friar Laurence
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo, come forth, come forth, thou fear-full man.
Affliction is enamoured of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Affliction is enamoured of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.
Enter Romeo
ROMEO
Father, what news? What is the Prince’s doom?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand
That I yet know not?
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand
That I yet know not?
FRIAR LAURENCE Too familiar
Is my dear son with such sour company.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince’s doom.
I bring thee tidings of the Prince’s doom.
ROMEO
What less than doomsday is the Prince’s doom?
FRIAR
LAURENCE
LAURENCE
A gentler judgement vanished from his lips:
Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.
Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.
ROMEO
Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say ‘death’,
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say ‘banishment’.
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death. Do not say ‘banishment’.
FRIAR
LAURENCE
LAURENCE
Hence from Verona art thou banished.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
ROMEO
There is no world without Verona walls
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banished from the world,
And world’s exile is death. Then ‘banishèd’
Is death mistermed. Calling death ‘banishèd’
Thou cutt‘st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil’st upon the stroke that murders me.
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banished from the world,
And world’s exile is death. Then ‘banishèd’
Is death mistermed. Calling death ‘banishèd’
Thou cutt‘st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil’st upon the stroke that murders me.
FRIAR
LAURENCE
LAURENCE
O deadly sin, O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rushed aside the law
And turned that black word ’death’ to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,
Taking thy part, hath rushed aside the law
And turned that black word ’death’ to banishment.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
ROMEO
‘Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
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, but I from this must fly.
They are free men, but I am banished.
And sayst thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne’er so mean,
But ‘banishèd’ to kill me—‘banishèd’?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver and my friend professed,
To mangle me with that word ‘banishèd’?
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable state, more courtship lives
In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
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, but I from this must fly.
They are free men, but I am banished.
And sayst thou yet that exile is not death?
Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne’er so mean,
But ‘banishèd’ to kill me—‘banishèd’?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell.
Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver and my friend professed,
To mangle me with that word ‘banishèd’?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
ROMEO
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word—
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee though thou art banished.
Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee though thou art banished.
ROMEO
Yet ‘banishèd’? 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.
Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom,
It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.
FRIAR LAURENCE
O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
ROMEO
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
ROMEO
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
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,
He falls upon the ground
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Knock within
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
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,
He falls upon the ground
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Knock within
FRIAR LAURENCE
Arise, one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
ROMEO
Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans
Mist-like enfold me from the search of eyes.
Mist-like enfold me from the search of eyes.
Knocking within
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hark, how they knock!—Who’s there?—Romeo, arise.
Thou wilt be taken.—Stay a white.—Stand up.
Thou wilt be taken.—Stay a white.—Stand up.
Still knock within
Run to my study.—By and by!—God’s will,
What simpleness is this?
What simpleness is this?
Knock within
I come, I come.
Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What’s your
will?
Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What’s your
will?
NURSE (
within
)
within
)
Let me come in, and you shall know my errand.
I come from Lady Juliet.
I come from Lady Juliet.
FRIAR LAURENCE ⌈
opening the door
⌉ Welcome then.
opening the door
⌉ Welcome then.
Enter the Nurse
NURSE
O holy friar, O tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady’s lord? Where’s Romeo?
Where is my lady’s lord? Where’s Romeo?
FRIAR LAURENCE
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
NURSE
O, he is even in my mistress’ case,
Just in her case! O woeful sympathy,
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
Blubb’ring and weeping, weeping and blubb’ring.
(
To Romeo
) 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?
Just in her case! O woeful sympathy,
Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
Blubb’ring and weeping, weeping and blubb’ring.
(
To Romeo
) 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?
ROMEO (
rising
)
rising
)
Nurse.
NURSE Ah sir, ah sir, death’s the end of all.
ROMEO
Spak’st thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
Doth not she 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 concealed lady to our cancelled love?
Doth not she 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 concealed lady to our cancelled love?
NURSE
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps,
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And ’Tybalt’ calls, and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
And ’Tybalt’ calls, and then on Romeo cries,
And then down falls again.
ROMEO As if that name
Shot from the deadly level of a gun
Did murder her as that name’s cursed 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
The hateful mansion.
Did murder her as that name’s cursed 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
The hateful mansion.
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