Title Page.The Tragical History of Romeus And Juliet, Written First In Italian By Bandell, And Now In English By Ar. Br. In Aedibus Richardi Tottelli. Cum Privilegio.
Prose address to the reader.To the Reader.
The God of all glory created universally all creatures, to set forth his praise, both those which we esteem profitable in use and pleasure, and also those, which we account noisome, and loathsome. But principally he hath appointed man, the chiefest instrument of his honour, not only for ministering matter thereof in man himself, but as well in gathering out of other the occasions of publishing God’s goodness, wisdom, and power. And in like sort, every doing of man hath by God’s dispensation something, whereby God may, and ought to be honoured. So the good doings of the good, and the evil acts of the wicked, the happy success of the blessed, and the woeful proceedings of the miserable, do in divers sort sound one praise of God. And as each flower yieldeth honey to the bee, so every example ministreth good lessons to the well-disposed mind. The glorious triumph of the continent man upon the lusts of wanton flesh, encourageth men to honest restraint of wild affections the shameful and wretched ends of such as have yielded their liberty thrall to foul desires, teach men to withhold themselves from the headlong fall of loose dishonesty. So, to like effect, by sundry means, the goodman’s example biddeth men to be good, and the evil man’s mischief warneth men not to be evil. To this good end, serve all ill ends of ill beginnings. And to this end (good Reader) is this tragical matter written, to describe unto thee a couple of unfortunate lovers, thralling themselves to unhonest desire, neglecting the authority and advice of parents and friends, conferring their principal counsels with drunken gossips, and superstitious friars (the naturally fit instruments of unchastity) attempting all adventures of peril, for the attaining of their wished lust using auricular confession (the key of whoredom, and treason) for furtherance of their purpose, abusing the honourable name of lawful marriage, to cloak the shame of stolen contracts, finally, by all means of unhonest life, hasting to most unhappy death. This precedent (good Reader) shall be to thee, as the slaves of Lacedaemon, oppressed with excess of drink, deformed and altered from likeness of men, both in mind, and use of body, were to the free born children, so showed to them by their parents to the intent to raise in them an hateful loathing of so filthy beastliness. Hereunto if you apply it, you shall deliver my doing from offence, and profit yourselves. Though I saw the same argument lately set forth on stage with more commendation than I can look for (being there much better set forth then I have or can do), yet the same matter penned as it is, may serve to like good effect, if the readers do bring with them like good minds, to consider it. Which hath the more encouraged me to publish it, such as it is. Ar. Br."
Verse address to the reader. To the Reader.
Amid the desert rocks, the mountain bear,
Brings forth unformed, unlike herself her young:
Nought else but lumps of flesh withouten hair,
In tract of time, her often licking tongue
5Gives them such shape, as doth (ere long) delight
The lookers on: Or when one dog doth shake
With muzzled mouth, the joints too weak to fight.
Or when upright he standeth by his stake,
(A noble crest) or wild in savage wood,
10A dozen dogs one holdeth at a bay,
With gaping mouth, and stained jaws with blood,
Or else, when from the farthest heavens, they
The lodestar are, the weary pilots mark,
In storms to guide to haven the tossed bark.
15Right so my muse
Hath (now at length) with travail long brought forth
Her tender whelps, her divers kinds of style,
Such as they are, or nought, or little worth,
Which careful travail, and a longer while,
20May better shape. The eldest of them lo,
I offer to the stake, my youthful work,
Which one reproachful mouth might overthrow:
The rest (unlicked as yet) a while shall lurk,
Till time give strength, to meet and match in fight
25With slanders whelps. Then shall they tell of strife
Of noble triumphs, and deeds of martial might,
And shall give rules of chaste and honest life.
The while I pray that you with favour blame,
Or rather not reprove the laughing game
30 Of this my muse.
Argument. [DP:Frame] [BOA:Sommaire] [PAI:Argument] [R&J-Q1:Prologue] [R&J-Q2:Chorus 1]Love hath inflaméd twain by sudden sight,
And both do grant the thing that both desire
They wed in shrift by counsel of a friar.
Young Romeus climbs fair Juliet’s bower by night.
5Three months he doth enjoy his chief delight.
By Tybalt’s rage provokéd unto ire,
He payeth death to Tybalt for his hire.
A banished man he ’scapes by secret flight.
New marriage is offered to his wife.
10She drinks a drink that seems to reave her breath:
They bury her that sleeping yet hath life.
Her husband hears the tidings of her death.
He drinks his bane. And she with Romeus’ knife,
When she awakes, herself, alas, she slay’th.
1. Description of Verona. [BAN:1] [BOA:1] [PAI:1]There is beyond the Alps,
a town of ancient fame,
Whose bright renown yet shineth clear:
Verona men it name;
Built in a happy time,
built on a fertile soil,
Maintained by the heavenly fates,
and by the townish toil
5The fruitful hills above,
the pleasant vales below,
The silver stream with channel deep,
that through the town doth flow,
The store of springs that serve
for use, and eke for ease,
And other more commodities,
which profit may and please,
Eke many certain signs
of things betid of old,
10To fill the hungry eyes of those
that curiously behold,
Do make this town to be
preferred above the rest
Of Lombard towns, or at the least,
compared with the best.
In which while Escalus
as prince alone did reign,
To reach reward unto the good,
to pay the lewd with pain,
15 2. The narrator introduces the woeful story he is about to tell. He feels unequal to his writing task. [DP:Frame] [BAN:2] [BOA:2] [PAI:2] Alas, I rue to think,
an heavy hap befell:
Which Boccace scant, not my rude tongue,
were able forth to tell.
Within my trembling hand,
my pen doth shake for fear,
And, on my cold amazéd head,
upright doth stand my hair.
But sith she doth command,
whose hest I must obey,
20In mourning verse, a woeful chance
to tell I will assay.
3. Invocation to the muses.Help, learnéd Pallas, help,
ye Muses with your art,
Help, all ye damnéd fiends to tell
of joys returned to smart.
Help eke, ye sisters three,
my skilless pen t’indite:
For you it caused which I, alas,
unable am to write.
254. The old grudge between the two families. [DP:1] [BAN:3] [BOA:3] [PAI:3] [R&J-Q1:Prologue] [R&J-Q2:Chorus 1]There were two ancient stocks,
which Fortune high did place
Above the rest, indued with wealth,
and nobler of their race,
Loved of the common sort,
loved of the prince alike,
And like unhappy were they both,
when Fortune list to strike;
Whose praise, with equal blast,
Fame in her trumpet blew;
30The one was clepéd Capulet,
and th’other Montague.
A wonted use it is,
that men of likely sort,
(I wot not by what fury forced)
envy each other’s port.
So these, whose equal state
bred envy pale of hue,
And then, of grudging envy’s root,
black hate and rancour grew
35As, of a little spark,
oft riseth mighty fire,
So of a kindled spark of grudge,
in flames flash out their ire.
And then their deadly food,
first hatched of trifling strife,
Did bathe in blood of smarting wounds;
it reavéd breath and life,
No legend lie I tell,
scarce yet their eyes be dry,
40That did behold the grisly sight,
with wet and weeping eye.
5. The Prince’s intervention. [DP:1] [BAN:4] [BOA:4] [PAI:4] [R&J-Q1: 2] [R&J-Q2: 2]But when the prudent prince,
who there the sceptre held,
So great a new disorder in
his commonweal beheld;
By gentle mean he sought,
their choler to assuage;
And by persuasion to appease,
their blameful furious rage.
45But both his words and time,
the prince hath spent in vain:
So rooted was the inward hate,
he lost his busy pain.
When friendly sage advice,
ne gentle words avail,
By thund’ring threats, and princely power
their courage ’gan he quail
In hope that when he had
the wasting flame supprest,
50In time he should quite quench the sparks
that burned within their breast.
6. Presentation of Romeus and his love for a Veronese girl. [DP:2] [DP:3] [BAN:6] [BAN:7] [BOA:5] [PAI:5]Now whilst these kindreds do
remain in this estate,
And each with outward friendly show
doth hide his inward hate:
One Romeus, who was
of race a Montague,
Upon whose tender chin, as yet,
no manlike beard there grew,
55Whose beauty and whose shape
so far the rest did stain,
That from the chief of Verona youth
he greatest fame did gain,
Hath found a maid so fair
(he found so foul his hap),
Whose beauty, shape, and comely grace,
did so his heart entrap
That from his own affairs,
his thought she did remove;
60Only he sought to honour her,
to serve her and to love.
To her he writeth oft,
of messengers are sent,
At length, in hope of better speed,
himself the lover went,
Present to plead for grace,
which absent was not found:
And to discover to her eye
his new receivéd wound.
657. Romeus’ beloved one: her chastity and virtue. [BAN:7] [BOA:5] [PAI:5] [R&J-Q1: 5.c] [R&J-Q2: 5.c]But she that from her youth
was fostered evermore
With virtue’s food, and taught in school
of wisdom’s skilful lore
By answer did cut off
th’affections of his love,
That he no more occasion had
so vain a suit to move.
So stern she was of cheer,
for all the pain he took,
70That, in reward of toil, she would
not give a friendly look.
And yet how much she did
with constant mind retire;
8. Romeus suffers unrequited love and wishes to leave Verona. [BAN:8] [BOA:6] [PAI:6]So much the more his fervent mind
was pricked forth by desire.
But when he many months,
hopeless of his recure,
Had servéd her, who forcéd not
what pains he did endure,
75At length he thought to leave
Verona, and to prove
If change of place might change away
his ill-bestowéd love;
And speaking to himself,
thus ’gan he make his moan:
"What booteth me to love and serve
a fell, unthankful one,
Sith that my humble suit
and labour sowed in vain,
80Can reap none other fruit at all
but scorn and proud disdain?
What way she seeks to go,
the same I seek to run,
But she the path wherein I tread,
with speedy flight doth shun.
I cannot live, except
that near to her I be;
She is aye best content when she
is farthest off from me.
85Wherefore henceforth I will
far from her take my flight;
Perhaps mine eye once banished
by absence from her sight,
This fire of mine, that by
her pleasant eyne is fed,
Shall little and little wear away,
and quite at last be dead."
9. Romeus is torn between opposite alternatives, and is prey of despair. [BAN:9] [BOA:7] [PAI:7] [R&J-Q1:5.b] [R&J-Q2:5.b]But whilst he did decree
this purpose still to keep,
90A contrary, repugnant thought
sank in his breast so deep,
That doubtful is he now
which of the twain is best:
In sighs, in tears , in plaint, in care,
in sorrow and unrest,
He moans the day, he wakes
the long and weary night;
So deep hath love with piercing hand,
y-graved her beauty bright
95Within his breast, and hath
so mastered quite his heart,
That he of force must yield as thrall,
no way is left to start.
He cannot stay his step,
but forth still must he run;
He languisheth and melts away,
10.His kindred and friends are worried about him. [BAN10] [BOA:8] [PAI:8] [R&J-Q1: 4.c] [R&J-Q2:4.c]His kindred and allies
do wonder what he ails,
100 And each of them in friendly wise
his heavy hap bewails.
11.A close friend rebukes him and urges him to look at other young ladies. [BAN:11] [BOA:9] [PAI:9] [R&J-Q1:5.d] [R&J-Q2:8] [R&J-Q1:10] [R&J-Q2:8] [R&J-Q1:10]But one among the rest,
the trustiest of his feres,
Far more than he with counsel filled,
and riper of his years ,
’Gan sharply him rebuke,
such love to him he bare,
That he was fellow of his smart,
and partner of his care.
105"What mean’st thou, Romeus,"
quoth he, "what doting rage
Doth make thee thus consume away
the best part of thine age,
In seeking her that scorns,
and hides her from thy sight,
Not forcing all thy great expense,
ne yet thy honour bright,
Thy tears, thy wretched life,
ne thine unspotted truth,
110Which are of force, I ween, to move
the hardest heart to ruth?
Now for our friendship’s sake,
and for thy health, I pray,
That thou henceforth become thine own.
Oh, give no more away
Unto a thankless wight
thy precious free estate;
In that thou lovest such a one,
thou seem’st thyself to hate.
115For she doth love elsewhere,
and then thy time is lorn,
Or else (what booteth thee to sue?)
Love’s court she hath forsworn.
Both young thou art of years,
and high in Fortune’s grace:
What man is better shaped than thou?
Who hath a sweeter face?
By painful studies’ mean,
great learning hast thou won;
120Thy parents have none other heir,
thou art their only son.
What greater grief, trow’st thou,
what woeful deadly smart
Should so be able to distrain
thy seely father’s heart,
As in his age to see
thee plungéd deep in vice,
When greatest hope he hath to hear
thy virtue's fame arise?
125What shall thy kinsmen think,
thou cause of all their ruth?
Thy deadly foes do laugh to scorn
thy ill-employéd youth.
Wherefore my counsel is,
that thou henceforth begin
To know and fly the error which
too long thou livedst in.
Remove the veil of love,
that keeps thine eyes so blind,
130That thou ne canst the ready path
of thy forefathers find.
But if unto thy will
so much in thrall thou art,
Yet in some other place bestow
thy witless wand’ring heart.
Choose out some worthy dame,
her honour thou and serve,
Who will give ear to thy complaint,
135But sow no more thy pains
in such a barren soil,
As yields in harvest time no crop,
in recompense of toil.
Ere long the townish dames
together will resort;
Some one of beauty, favour, shape,
and of so lovely port,
With so fast fixéd eye,
perhaps thou may’st behold,
140That thou shalt quite forget thy love,
and passions past of old."
12. Romeus follows his friend’s advice and starts to attend feasts and parties. [BAN:12] [BOA:10] [PAI:10]The young man’s listening ear
received the wholesome sound,
And reason’s truth y-planted so,
within his head had ground;
That now with healthy cool
y-tempered is the heat,
And piecemeal wears away the grief
that erst his heart did fret.
145To his approved friend
a solemn oath he plight,
At every feast y-kept by day,
and banquet made by night,
At pardons in the church,
at games in open street,
And everywhere he would resort
where ladies wont to meet;
Eke should his savage heart
like all indifferently,
150For he would view and judge them all
with unalluréd eye.
13.The narrator comments on Romeus’ misfortune. How happy had he been,
had he not been forsworn;
But twice as happy had he been,
had he been never born.
For ere the moon could thrice
her wasted horns renew,
False Fortune cast for him, poor wretch,
a mischief new to brew.
15514. Capulet’s feast at Christmas. [DP:2] [BAN:5] [BAN:13] [BOA:11] [PAI:11] [R&J-Q1:6.c] [R&J-Q2:6.c]The weary winter nights
restore the Christmas games,
And now the season doth invite
to banquet townish dames.
And first in Capel’s house,
the chief of all the kin
Spar’th for no cost, the wonted use
of banquets to begin.
No lady fair or foul
was in Verona town,
160No knight or gentleman
of high or low renown,
But Capulet himself
hath bid unto his feast,
Or by his name in paper sent,
appointed as a geast.
Young damsels thither flock,
of bachelors a rout,
Not so much for the banquet’s sake,
as beauties to search out.
16515. No Montague is admitted to the feast. Yet Romeus and five more go there masked. At some point they take off their masks. [DP:4] [BAN:13] [BOA:12] [PAI:12] [R&J-Q1:13d] [R&J-Q2:13d]But not a Montague
would enter at his gate,
(For as you heard, the Capulets
and they were at debate)
Save Romeus, and he,
in mask with hidden face,
The supper done, with other five
did press into the place.
When they had masked awhile,
with dames in courtly wise,
170All did unmask, the rest did show
them to their ladies’ eyes;
16. Romeus withdraws to a secluded part of the room. [DP:6] [BAN:14] [BOA:13] [PAI:13]But bashful Romeus
with shamefast face forsook,
The open press, and him withdrew
into the chamber’s nook.
17517. Romeus’ beauty is gazed upon by all women. [DP:4] [BAN:15] [BOA:14] [PAI:14] But brighter than the sun,
the waxen torches shone,
That maugre what he could, he was
espied of everyone.
But of the women chief,
their gazing eyes that threw,
To wonder at his sightly shape
and beauty’s spotless hue,
With which the heavens him had
and nature so bedecked,
That ladies thought the fairest dames
were foul in his respect.
18. Everybody wonders about his boldness, but no one dares to challenge him. The narrator wonders why. Everybody gazes on him, and Romeo judges all the beauties. [DP:4] [BAN:15] [BOA:15] [PAI:15] [R&J-Q1:15.d] [R&J-Q2:15.d] And in their head beside,
another wonder rose,
180How he durst put himself in throng
among so many foes.
Of courage stout they thought
his coming to proceed:
And women love an hardy heart,
as I in stories read.
The Capulets disdain
the presence of their foe,
Yet they suppress their stirréd ire,
the cause I do not know:
185Perhaps t’offend their guests
the courteous knights are loth,
Perhaps they stay from sharp revenge,
dreading the Prince’s wroth.
Perhaps for that they shamed
to exercise their rage
Within their house, ’gainst one alone,
and him of tender age.
They use no taunting talk,
ne harm him by their deed;
190They neither say, "What mak’st thou here?"
ne yet they say, "God speed."
So that he freely might
the ladies view at ease;
And they also beholding him,
their change of fancies please;
Which Nature had him taught
to do with such a grace,
That there was none but joyéd at
his being there in place.
195With upright beam he weighed
the beauty of each dame,
And judged who best, and who next her,
was wrought in Nature’s frame.
19. Romeus sees a fair maid and falls in love. [BAN:16] [BOA:16] [PAI:16] [R&J-Q1:15.c] [R&J-Q2:15.c]At length he saw a maid,
right fair, of perfect shape,
have chosen to their rape.
200Whom erst he never saw;
of all she pleased him most;
Within himself he said to her,
“Thou justly may’st thee boast
Of perfect shape’s renown,
and beauty’s sounding praise,
Whose like ne hath, ne shall be seen,
ne liveth in our days.”
20. Romeus forgets about his former beloved one. The narrator comments on his sudden change and the new kindled love with proverbial wisdom. [DP:11] [BAN:17] [BOA:17] [PAI:17] And whilst he fixed on her
his partial piercéd eye,
His former love, for which of late
he ready was to die,
205Is now as quite forgot,
as it had never been:
The proverb saith, “Unminded oft
are they that are unseen.”
And as out of a plank
a nail a nail doth drive,
So novel love out of the mind
the ancient love doth rive.
This sudden kindled fire
in time is wox so great,
210That only death and both their bloods
might quench the fiery heat.
21. Romeus feels as in a tempest tossed and does not dare to ask her name. He tries to follow her by sight, and is poisoned by her beauty. [BAN:17] [BOA:18] [PAI:18]When Romeus saw himself
Where both was hope of pleasant port,
and danger to be lost,
He doubtful, scarcely knew
what countenance to keep;
In Lethe’s flood his wonted flames
were quenched and drenchéd deep.
215Yea, he forgets himself,
ne is the wretch so bold
To ask her name, that without force
hath him in bondage fold.
Ne how t’unloose his bonds
doth the poor fool devise,
But only seeketh by her sight
to feed his hungry eyes:
Through them he swalloweth down
220How surely are the wareless wrapt
by those that lie in wait!
So is the poison spread
throughout his bones and veins,
That in a while, alas, the while,
it hasteth deadly pains.
22. Juliet sees Romeus and is pierced by Cupid’s arrow (the power of sight). [DP:5] [BAN:18] [BOA:20] [PAI:20]Whilst Juliet, for so
this gentle damsel hight,
From side to side on every one
did cast about her sight:
225At last her floating eyes
were anchored fast on him,
Who for her sake did banish health
and freedom from each limb.
He in her sight did seem
to pass the rest as far
As Phoebus’ shining beams do pass
the brightness of a star.
In wait lay warlike Love
with golden bow and shaft,
230And to his ear with steady hand
the bowstring up he raft.
Till now she had escaped
his sharp inflaming dart,
Till now he listed not assault
her young and tender heart.
His whetted arrow loosed,
so touched her to the quick,
That through the eye it strake the heart,
and there the head did stick.
235It booted not to strive,
for why, she wanted strength;
The weaker aye unto the strong
of force must yield, at length.
The pomps now of the feast
her heart ’gins to despise;
And only joyeth when her eyne
meet with her lover’s eyes.
23. The two youths look at each other for a while and become aware of mutual love. [BAN:19] [BOA:21] [PAI:21] When their new smitten hearts
had fed on loving gleams,
240Whilst, passing to and fro their eyes,
Each of these lovers ’gan
by other’s looks to know,
That friendship in their breast had root,
and both would have it grow.
24. Juliet is invited to dance. [BOA:22] [PAI:22] When thus in both their hearts
And each of them had sought the mean
to end the war by speech,
245Dame Fortune did assent
their purpose to advance,
With torch in hand a comely knight
did fetch her forth to dance;
She quit herself so well,
and with so trim a grace,
That she the chief praise won that night
from all Verona race.
25. Romeus places himself close to her seat, and on the other side there sits Mercutio, a courteous youth. [BOA:23] [PAI:23] The whilst our Romeus
a place had warely won,
250Nigh to the seat where she must sit,
the dance once being done.
Fair Juliet turned to
her chair with pleasant cheer,
And glad she was her Romeus
approachéd was so near.
At th’one side of her chair
her lover Romeo,
And on the other side there sat
one called Mercutio;
255A courtier that each where
was highly had in price,
For he was courteous of his speech,
and pleasant of device.
Even as a lion would
among the lambs be bold ,
Such was among the bashful maids
Mercutio to behold .
26. Juliet’s right hand is seized by Mercutio’s cold hand. [DP:9] [BAN:22] [BOA:24] [PAI:24] With friendly gripe he seized
fair Juliet’s snowish hand:
260A gift he had that Nature gave
him in his swathing band,
That frozen mountain ice
was never half so cold,
As were his hands, though ne’er so near
the fire he did them hold.
27. Juliet’s left hand is seized by Romeus. Emotion prevents him from talking to her [DP:9] [BAN:22] [BOA:25] [PAI:25] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e] As soon as had the knight
the virgin’s right hand raught,
Within his trembling hand her left
hath loving Romeus caught.
265For he wist well himself
for her abode most pain,
And well he wist she loved him best,
unless she list to feign.
28. Juliet presses Romeus’ palm. When she sees him blush, she spurns him on to speak. Roméo declares his love. [DP:10] [BAN:22] [BOA:26] [PAI:26] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e]Then she with tender hand
his tender palm hath pressed;
What joy, trow you, was grafféd so
in Romeus’ cloven breast
The sudden sweet delight
hath stoppéd quite his tongue,
270Ne can he claim of her his right,
ne crave redress of wrong.
But she espied straightway,
by changing of his hue
From pale to red, from red to pale,
and so from pale anew,
That veh’ment love was cause,
why so his tongue did stay,
And so much more she longed to hear
what Love could teach him say.
275When she had longéd long,
and he long held his peace,
And her desire of hearing him,
by silence did increase,
At last, with trembling voice
and shamefast cheer, the maid
Unto her Romeus turned herself,
and thus to him she said:
"O blesséd be the time
of thy arrival here":
280But ere she could speak forth the rest,
to her Love drew so near
And so within her mouth,
her tongue he gluéd fast,
That no one word could ’scape her more
than what already passed.
In great contented ease
the young man straight is rapt:
“What chance”, quoth he, “un’ware to me,
O lady mine, is hapt,
285That gives you worthy cause
my coming here to bliss?”
Fair Juliet was come again
unto herself by this:
First ruthfully she looked,
then said with smiling cheer:
“Marvel no whit, my heart’s delight,
my only knight and fere,
Mercutio’s icy hand had
all-to frozen mine,
290And of thy goodness thou again
hast warmed it with thine.”
Whereto with stayéd brow,
’gan Romeus to reply:
“If so the gods have granted me
such favour from the sky,
That by my being here
some service I have done
That pleaseth you, I am as glad,
as I a realm had won.
295O well-bestowéd time,
that hath the happy hire,
Which I would wish, if I might have,
my wishéd heart’s desire.
For I of God would crave,
as price of pains forepast,
To serve, obey, and honour you,
so long as life shall last;
As proof shall teach you plain,
if that you like to try
300His faultless truth, that nill for aught
unto his lady lie.
But if my touched hand
have warmed yours some deal,
Assure yourself the heat is cold,
which in your hand you feel,
Compared to such quick sparks
and glowing furious glead,
As from your beauty’s pleasant eyne,
Love causéd to proceed;
305Which have so set on fire
each feeling part of mine,
That lo, my mind doth melt away,
my outward parts do pine.
And but you help, all whole,
to ashes shall I turn;
Wherefore, alas, have ruth on him,
whom you do force to burn.”
29. They must part but Juliet declares her love and acknowledges Romeus’ own. [BAN:22] [BOA:27] [PAI:27] [R&J-Q1:15.e] [R&J-Q2:15.e]Even with his ended tale,
the torches’ dance had end,
310And Juliet of force must part
from her new chosen friend.
His hand she clasped hard,
and all her parts did shake,
When leisureless with whisp’ring voice
thus did she answer make:
“You are no more your own,
dear friend, than I am yours,
My honour savéd, pressed t’obey
your will, while life endures.”
31530. The narrator comments on happy love when blessed by God.Lo, here the lucky lot
that seld true lovers find,
Each takes away the other’s heart,
and leaves the own behind.
A happy life is love,
if God grant from above,
That heart with heart by even weight
do make exchange of love.
31. Romeus discovers Juliet’s name and laments his lot. [BAN:23] [BOA:28] [PAI:28] [R&J-Q1:15.f] [R&J-Q2:15.f]But Romeus gone from her,
his heart for care is cold;
320He hath forgot to ask her name
that hath his heart in hold.
With forgéd careless cheer,
of one he seeks to know,
Both how she hight, and whence she came,
that him enchanted so.
So hath he learned her name,
and know’th she is no geast,
Her father was a Capulet,
and master of the feast.
325Thus hath his foe in choice
to give him life or death,
That scarcely can his woeful breast
keep in the lively breath.
Wherefore with piteous plaint
fierce Fortune doth he blame,
That in his ruth and wretched plight
doth seek her laughing game.
And he reproveth Love,
chief cause of his unrest,
330Who ease and freedom hath exiled
out of his youthful breast.
Twice hath he made him serve,
hopeless of his reward;
Of both the ills to choose the less,
I ween the choice were hard.
First to a ruthless one
he made him sue for grace,
And now with spur he forceth him
to run an endless race.
335Amid these stormy seas
one anchor doth him hold,
He serveth not a cruel one,
as he had done of old.
And therefore is content,
and chooseth still to serve,
Though hap should swear that guerdonless
the wretched wight should sterve.
The lot of Tantalus
is, Romeus, like to thine;
340For want of food amid his food,
the miser still doth pine.
32. Juliet discovers Romeus’ name and despairs, giving up sleep. [BAN:24] [BOA:29] [PAI:29] [R&J-Q1:15.h] [R&J-Q2:15.h]As careful was the maid
what way were best devise
To learn his name, that entertained
her in so gentle wise,
Of whom her heart received
so deep, so wide a wound.
An ancient dame she called to her,
and in her ear ’gan round.
345This old dame in her youth
had nursed her with her milk,
With slender needle taught her sew,
and how to spin with silk.
“What twain are those,” quoth she,
“which press unto the door,
Whose pages in their hand do bear
two torches light before?”
And then as each of them
had of his household name,
350So she him named yet once again,
the young and wily dame.
“And tell me, who is he
with visor in his hand,
That yonder doth in masking weed
beside the window stand?”
“His name is Romeus,”
said she, “a Montague,
Whose father’s pride first stirred the strife
which both your households rue.”
355The word of Montague
her joys did overthrow,
And straight instead of happy hope,
despair began to grow.
“What hap have I,” quoth she,
"to love my father’s foe?
What, am I weary of my weal?
What, do I wish my woe?"
But though her grievous pains
distrained her tender heart,
360Yet with an outward show of joy
she cloakéd inward smart;
And of the courtlike dames
her leave so courtly took,
That none did guess the sudden change
by changing of her look.
Then at her mother’s hest
to chamber she her hied,
So well she feigned, mother ne nurse
the hidden harm descried.
365But when she should have slept,
as wont she was, in bed,
Not half a wink of quiet sleep
could harbour in her head.
For lo, an hugy heap
of divers thoughts arise,
That rest have banished from her heart,
and slumber from her eyes.
370And now from side to side
she tosseth and she turns ,
And now for fear she shivereth,
and now for love she burns.
And now she likes her choice,
and now her choice she blames,
And now each hour within her head
a thousand fancies frames.
Sometime in mind to stop
amid her course begun,
Sometime she vows, what so betide,
th’attempted race to run.
375Thus danger’s dread and love
within the maiden fought:
The fight was fierce, continuing long
by their contrary thought.
In turning maze of love
she wand’reth to and fro,
Then standeth doubtful what to do,
lost, overpressed with woe.
How so her fancies cease,
her tears did never blin,
380With heavy cheer and wringéd hands
thus doth her plaint begin:
33. Juliet fears that Romeus might want to dishonour her. [DP:12] [BAN:25] [BOA:30] [PAI:30] “Ah, silly fool,” quoth she,
“y-caught in subtle snare!
Ah, wretchéd wench, bewrapt in woe!
Whence come these wand’ring thoughts
to thy unconstant breast?
By straying thus from reason’s law,
that reave thy wonted rest.
385What if his subtle brain
to feign have taught his tongue,
And so the snake that lurks in grass
thy tender heart hath stung?
What if with friendly speech
the traitor lie in wait,
As oft the poisoned hook is hid,
wrapt in the pleasant bait?
Oft under cloak of truth
hath Falsehood served her lust;
390And turned their honour into shame,
that did so slightly trust.
What, was not Dido so,
a crowned queen, defamed?
And eke, for such a heinous crime,
have men not Theseus blamed?
A thousand stories more,
to teach me to beware,
In Boccace and in Ovid’s books
too plainly written are.
395Perhaps, the great revenge
he cannot work by strength,
By subtle sleight, my honour stained,
he hopes to work at length.
So shall I seek to find
my father’s foe his game;
So, I befiled, Report shall take
her trump of black defame,
Whence she with pufféd cheek
shall blow a blast so shrill
400Of my dispraise, that with the noise
Verona shall she fill.
Then I, a laughing-stock
through all the town become,
Shall hide myself, but not my shame,
within an hollow tomb.”
Straight underneath her foot
she treadeth in the dust.
Her troublesome thought, as wholly vain,
y-bred of fond distrust.
40534. Juliet changes her mind and believes that his beauty can only reflect moral integrity. [BAN:26] [BOA:31] [PAI:31] “No, no, by God above,
I wot it well,” quoth she,
“Although I rashly spake before,
in no wise can it be
That where such perfect shape
with pleasant beauty rests,
There crooked craft and treason black
should be appointed guests.
Sage writers say, the thoughts
are dwelling in the eyne;
410Then sure I am, as Cupid reigns,
that Romeus is mine.
The tongue the messenger
eke call they of the mind;
So that I see he loveth me;
shall I then be unkind?
His face’s rosy hue
I saw full oft to seek;
And straight again it flashéd forth,
and spread in either cheek.
415His fixéd heavenly eyne,
that through me quite did pierce
His thoughts unto my heart, my thought
they seeméd to rehearse.
What meant his falt’ring tongue
in telling of his tale?
The trembling of his joints, and eke
his colour waxen pale?
And whilst I talked with him,
himself he hath exiled
420Out of himself, a seeméd me,
ne was I sure beguiled.
Those arguments of love
Craft wrate not in his face,
But Nature’s hand, when all deceit
was banished out of place.
What other certain signs
seek I of his good will?
These do suffice; and steadfast I
will love and serve him still.
425Till Atropos shall cut
my fatal thread of life,
So that he mind to make of me
his lawful wedded wife.
35. Thus she believes that their alliance may help quench the feud. [DP:12] [BAN:27] [BOA:32] [PAI:32]For so perchance this new
alliance may procure
Unto our houses such a peace
as ever shall endure.”
36. The narrator comments on the power of self-persuasion.Oh, how we can persuade
ourself to what we like,
430And how we can dissuade our mind,
if aught our mind mislike!
Weak arguments are strong,
our fancies straight to frame
To pleasing things, and eke to shun
if we mislike the same.
37. At dawn Romeus passes by her house and greets her. [DP:14] [BAN:28] [BOA:33] [PAI:33]The maid had scarcely yet
ended the weary war,
Kept in her heart by striving thoughts,
when every shining star
435Had paid his borrowed light,
and Phoebus spread in skies
His golden rays, which seemed to say,
now time it is to rise.
And Romeus had by this
forsaken his weary bed,
Where restless he a thousand thoughts
had forgéd in his head.
And while with ling’ring step
by Juliet's house he passed,
440And upwards to her windows high
his greedy eyes did cast,
His love that looked for him
there ’gan he straight espy.
With pleasant cheer each greeted is;
she followeth with her eye
His parting steps, and he
oft looketh back again
But not so oft as he desires;
warely he doth refrain.
44538. The narrator comments on love free from jealousy.What life were like to love,
if dread of jeopardy
Y-soured not the sweet, if love
were free from jealousy!
39. Juliet looks after him when he often passes her house and he looks up at her. [BOA:33] [PAI:33]But she more sure within,
unseen of any wight,
When so he comes, looks after him
till he be out of sight.
In often passing so,
his busy eyes he threw,
450That every pane and tooting hole
the wily lover knew.
40. Romeus finds a way to get into the garden at night. [BOA:33] [PAI:33]In happy hour he doth
a garden plot espy,
From which, except he warely walk,
men may his love descry;
For lo, it fronted full
upon her leaning place,
Where she is wont to show her heart
by cheerful friendly face.
455And lest the arbours might
their secret love bewray,
He doth keep back his forward foot
from passing there by day;
But when on earth the Night
her mantle black hath spread;
Well armed he walketh forth alone,
ne dreadful foes doth dread.
41.The narrator’s proverbial wisdom.Whom maketh Love not bold,
nay, whom makes he not blind?
46042. Romeus passes by Juliet’s house at night but does not see Juliet and Juliet despairs for not seeing him. The narrator comments on lovers’ apprehension.He reaveth danger’s dread oft-times
out of the lover’s mind.
By night he passeth here,
a week or two in vain;
And for the missing of his mark
his grief hath him nigh slain.
And Juliet that now
doth lack her heart’s relief,
Her Romeus’ pleasant eyne, I mean,
is almost dead for grief.
465Each day she changeth hours
(for lovers keep an hour
When they are sure to see their love
in passing by their bower).
43. Finally, one night, Juliet sees Romeus and greatly rejoices. [DP:15] [BAN:29] [BOA:34] [PAI:34]Impatient of her woe,
she happed to lean one night
Within her window, and anon
the moon did shine so bright
That she espied her love:
her heart revivéd sprang;
470And now for joy she claps her hands,
which erst for woe she wrang.
Eke Romeus, when he saw
his long desiréd sight,
His mourning cloak of moan cast off,
hath clad him with delight.
Yet dare I say, of both
that she rejoicéd more:
His care was great, hers twice as great
was all the time before;
475For whilst she knew not why
he did himself absent,
Aye doubting both his health and life,
his death she did lament.
44. The Narrator comments on lovers’ fears.For love is fearful oft
where is no cause of fear,
And what love fears, that love laments,
as though it chancéd were.
Of greater cause always
is greater work y-bred;
480While he nought doubteth of her health,
she dreads lest he be dead.
45. Although Juliet rejoices more than him, reassured that he is not dead, they love alike.When only absence is
the cause of Romeus’ smart,
By happy hope of sight again
he feeds his fainting heart.
What wonder then if he
were wrapped in less annoy?
What marvel if by sudden sight
she fed of greater joy
485His smaller grief or joy
no smaller love do prove;
Ne, for she passed him in both,
did she him pass in love :
But each of them alike
did burn in equal flame,
The well-beloving knight and eke
the well-beloved dame.
46. Juliet asks Romeus how he got there and urges him to go away, being an enemy to her family; Romeus expresses his love. [DP:15] [BAN:30] [BOA:35] [PAI:35] [R&J-Q1:17.d] [R&J-Q2:17-d]Now whilst with bitter tears
her eyes as fountains run,
490With whispering voice, y-broke with sobs,
thus is her tale begun:
“O Romeus, of your life
too lavish sure you are,
That in this place, and at this time,
to hazard it you dare.
What if your deadly foes,
my kinsmen, saw you here?
Like lions wild, your tender parts
asunder would they tear.
495In ruth and in disdain,
I, weary of my life,
With cruel hand my mourning heart
would pierce with bloody knife.
For you, mine own, once dead,
what joy should I have here?
And eke my honour stained, which I
than life do hold more dear.”
“Fair lady mine, dame Juliet,
my life,” quoth he,
500“Even from my birth committed was
to fatal sisters three.
They may in spite of foes
draw forth my lively thread;
And they also, whoso saith nay,
asunder may it shred.
But who to reave my life,
his rage and force would bend,
Perhaps should try unto his pain
how I it could defend.
505Ne yet I love it so,
but always for your sake,
A sacrifice to death I would
my wounded corpse betake.
If my mishap were such,
that here before your sight,
I should restore again to death,
of life, my borrowed light,
This one thing and no more
my parting sprite would rue,
510That part he should before that you
by certain trial knew
The love I owe to you,
the thrall I languish in,
And how I dread to lose the gain
which I do hope to win;
And how I wish for life,
not for my proper ease,
But that in it you might I love,
you honour, serve and please,
515Till deadly pangs the sprite
out of the corpse shall send."
And thereupon he sware an oath,
and so his tale had end.
47. Juliet asks him if his intention is hon-est, and proposes marriage. [DP:17] [BAN:31] [BOA:36] [PAI:36] [R&J-Q1:17.i] [R&J-Q2:17.i]Now love and pity boil
in Juliet’s ruthful breast;
In window on her leaning arm
her weary head doth rest;
Her bosom bathed in tears,
to witness inward pain,
520With dreary cheer to Romeus
thus answered she again:
“Ah, my dear Romeus,
keep in these words,” quoth she,
"For lo, the thought of such mischance
already maketh me
For pity and for dread
well-nigh to yield up breath;
In even balance poiséd are
my life and eke my death.
525For so my heart is knit,
yea, made one self with yours,
That sure there is no grief so small,
by which your mind endures,
But as you suffer pain,
so I do bear in part,
Although it lessens not your grief,
the half of all your smart.
But these things overpast,
if of your health and mine
530You have respect, or pity aught
my teary, weeping eyne,
In few unfeigned words
your hidden mind unfold,
That as I see your pleasant face,
your heart I may behold.
For if you do intend
my honour to defile,
In error shall you wander still,
as you have done this while;
535But if your thought be chaste,
and have on virtue ground,
If wedlock be the end and mark
which your desire hath found,
Obedience set aside,
unto my parents due,
The quarrel eke that long ago
between our households grew,
Both me and mine I will
all whole to you betake,
540And following you whereso you go,
my father’s house forsake.
But if by wanton love
and by unlawful suit
You think in ripest years to pluck
my maidenhood’s dainty fruit,
You are beguiled; and now
your Juliet you beseeks
To cease your suit, and suffer her
to live among her likes."
54548. Romeus rejoices and tells Juliet that he will ask the friar for advice and will return the following night at the same hour with news. [BOA:37] [PAI:37] [R&J-Q1:17.j] [R&J-Q2:17.j]Then Romeus, whose thought
was free from foul desire,
And to the top of virtue’s height
did worthily aspire,
Was filled with greater joy
than can my pen express,
Or, till they have enjoyed the like,
the hearer’s heart can guess.
And then with joined hands,
heaved up into the skies,
550He thanks the Gods, and from the heavens
for vengeance down he cries
If he have other thought
but as his lady spake;
And then his look he turned to her,
and thus did answer make:
“Since, lady, that you like
to honour me so much
As to accept me for your spouse,
I yield myself for such.
555In true witness whereof,
because I must depart,
Till that my deed do prove my word,
I leave in pawn my heart.
To-morrow eke betimes
before the sun arise,
To Friar Laurence will I wend,
to learn his sage advice.
He is my ghostly sire,
and oft he hath me taught
560What I should do in things of weight,
when I his aid have sought.
And at this self-same hour,
I plight you here my faith,
I will be here, if you think good,
to tell you what he saith.”
49. Romeus finds no other satisfaction than pleasant words. [DP:17] [BAN:31] [BOA:38] [PAI:38] [R&J-Q2:17.g]She was contented well;
else favour found he none
That night at lady Juliet’s hand,
save pleasant words alone.
56550. Description of the friar as a well-beloved doctor in divinity and very close to Romeus. [DP:20] [BAN:33] [BOA:39] [PAI:39] [R&J-Q1:18.a] [R&J-Q2:18.a]This barefoot friar girt
with cord his grayish weed,
For he of Francis’ order was,
a friar, as I read.
Not as the most was he,
a gross unlearnéd fool,
But doctor of divinity
proceeded he in school.
The secrets eke he knew
in Nature’s works that lurk;
570By magic’s art most men supposed
that he could wonders work.
Ne doth it ill beseem
divines those skills to know,
If on no harmful deed they do
such skilfulness bestow;
For justly of no art
can men condemn the use,
But right and reason’s lore cry out
against the lewd abuse.
575The bounty of the friar
and wisdom hath so won
The townsfolks’ hearts, that well nigh all
to Friar Laurence run
To shrive themselves; the old,
the young, the great and small;
Of all he is beloved well,
and honoured much of all.
And, for he did the rest
in wisdom far exceed,
580The prince by him, his counsel craved,
was holp at time of need.
Betwixt the Capulets
and him great friendship grew,
A secret and assuréd friend
unto the Montague.
Loved of this young man more
than any other guest,
The friar eke of Verona youth
aye likéd Romeus best;
585For whom he ever hath
in time of his distress,
As erst you heard, by skilful lore
found out his harm’s redress:
51. Romeus tells the friar about his love for Juliet and recounts their encounter. He asks him to marry them. [DP:21] [BAN:34] [BOA:40] [PAI:40] [R&J-Q1:18.c] [R&J-Q2:18.c]To him is Romeus gone,
ne stay’th he till the morrow;
To him he painteth all his case,
his passéd joy and sorrow.
How he hath her espied
with other dames in dance,
590And how that first to talk with her
himself he did advance;
Their talk and change of looks
he ’gan to him declare,
And how so fast by faith and troth
they both y-coupléd are,
That neither hope of life,
nor dread of cruel death,
Shall make him false his faith to her,
while life shall lend him breath.
595And then with weeping eyes
he prays his ghostly sire
To further and accomplish all
their honest hearts’ desire.
52. The friar tries to dissuade him. [BOA:41] [PAI:41] [R&J-Q1:18.d] [R&J-Q2:18.d]A thousand doubts and moe
in th’old man’s head arose,
A thousand dangers like to come
the old man doth disclose,
And from the spousal rites
he redeth him refrain,
Perhaps he shall be bet advised
600 within a week or twain.
53. The narrator comments on Romeus’ deafness to all ad-vice. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]Advice is banished quite
from those that follow love,
Except advice to what they like
their bending mind do move.
605As well the father might
have counselled him to stay
That from a mountain’s top thrown down
is falling half the way
As warn his friend to stop
amid his race begun,
Whom Cupid with his smarting whip
enforceth forth to run.
54. At last the friar consents as he thinks that the marriage might assuage the feud. [DP:22] [BAN:35] [BOA:42] [PAI:42] [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]Part won by earnest suit,
the friar doth grant at last;
And part, because he thinks the storms,
so lately overpast,
Of both the households’ wrath,
this marriage might appease;
610So that they should not rage again,
but quite for ever cease
The respite of a day
he asketh to devise
What way were best, unknown, to end
so great an enterprise.
55. Romeus’ hurry. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]The wounded man that now
doth deadly pains endure,
Scarce patient tarrieth whilst his leech
doth make the salve to cure:
615So Romeus hardly grants
a short day and a night,
Yet needs he must, else must he want
his only heart’s delight.
56. The narrator addresses the read-er about Romeus’ and Juliet’s hurry. [R&J-Q1:18.e] [R&J-Q2:18.e]You see that Romeus
no time or pain doth spare;
Think that the whilst fair Juliet
is not devoid of care.
57. The narrator shift his narrative to Juliet and the Nurse pair.Young Romeus poureth forth
his hap and his mishap
620Into the friar’s breast; but where
shall Juliet unwrap
The secrets of her heart?
To whom shall she unfold
Her hidden burning love, and eke
her thought and cares so cold?
58. Juliet discloses her secret love to the Nurse. [BAN:37] [BOA:43] [PAI:43]The nurse of whom I spake,
within her chamber lay,
Upon the maid she waiteth still;
to her she doth bewray
625Her new receivéd wound,
and then her aid doth crave,
In her, she saith, it lies to spill,
in her, her life to save.
Not easily she made
the froward nurse to bow,
But won at length with promised hire,
she made a solemn vow.
To do what she commands,
as handmaid of her hest;
630Her mistress’ secrets hide she will
within her covert breast.
59. The Nurse goes to Romeus and is instructed to accompany Juliet to shrine on Saturday. [BAN:42] [BOA:44] [BOA:45] [PAI:44] [PAI:45] [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]To Romeus she goes;
of him she doth desire
To know the mean of marriage,
by counsel of the friar.
“On Saturday,” quoth he,
“if Juliet come to shrift,
She shall be shrived and marriéd;
how like you, nurse, this drift?”
635“Now by my truth,” quoth she,
“God’s blessing have your heart,
For yet in all my life I have
not heard of such a part.
Lord, how you young men can
such crafty wiles devise,
If that you love the daughter well,
to blear the mother’s eyes.
An easy thing it is
with cloak of holiness
640To mock the seely mother, that
suspecteth nothing less.
But that it pleaséd you
to tell me of the case,
For all my many years, perhaps,
I should have found it scarce.
Now for the rest let me
and Juliet alone;
To get her leave, some feat excuse
I will devise anon;
645For that her golden locks
by sloth have been unkempt,
Or for unwares some wanton dream
the youthful damsel dreamt,
Or for in thoughts of love
her idle time she spent,
Or otherwise within her heart
deservéd to be shent.
I know her mother will
in no case say her nay;
650I warrant you, she shall not fail
to come on Saturday.”
60. The Nurse prates about Juliet’s youth and her having been like a mother for her. [R&J-Q1:11.b] [R&J-Q2:11.b]And then she swears to him,
the mother loves her well;
And how she gave her suck in youth,
she leaveth not to tell.
“A pretty babe,” quoth she,
“it was when it was young;
Lord, how it could full prettily
have prated with it tongue!
655A thousand times and more
I laid her on my lap,
And clapped her on the buttock soft,
and kissed where I did clap.
And gladder then was I
of such a kiss, forsooth,
Than I had been to have a kiss
of some old lecher’s mouth.”
And thus of Juliet’s youth
began this prating nurse,
660And of her present state to make
a tedious, long discourse.
61. Romeus silences the Nurse by giving her money. [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]For though he pleasure took
in hearing of his love,
The message’ answer seeméd him
to be of more behove.
But when these beldames sit
at ease upon their tail,
The day and eke the candle-light
before their talk shall fail.
665And part they say is true,
and part they do devise,
Yet boldly do they chat of both,
when no man checks their lies.
Then he six crowns of gold
out of his pocket drew,
And gave them her; “A slight reward,”
quoth he, "and so, adieu."
In seven years twice told
she had not bowed so low
670Her crooked knees, as now they bow;
she swears she will bestow
Her crafty wit, her time,
and all her busy pain,
To help him to his hopéd bliss;
and, cow’ring down again,
She takes her leave, and home
she hies with speedy pace;
62. The Nurse gives Juliet the news and praises Romeus. She does not mention the money she has received. [R&J-Q1:20.c] [R&J-Q2:20.c]The chamber door she shuts, and then
she saith with smiling face:
675“Good news for thee, my girl,
good tidings I thee bring.
Leave off thy wonted song of care,
and now of pleasure sing.
For thou may’st hold thyself
the happiest under sun,
That in so little while, so well,
so worthy a knight hast won.
The best y-shaped is he,
and hath the fairest face
680Of all this town, and there is none
hath half so good a grace:
So gentle of his speech,
and of his counsel wise”:
And still with many praises more
she heaved him to the skies.
“Tell me else what,” quoth she,
“this evermore I thought;
But of our marriage, say at once,
what answer have you brought?”
685“Nay, soft,” quoth she, “I fear
you’re hurt by sudden joy.”
“I list not play,” quoth Juliet,
“although thou list to toy.”
How glad, trow you, was she,
when she had heard her say,
No farther off than Saturday
deferréd was the day!
Again the ancient nurse
doth speak of Romeus,
690“And then,” said she, “he spake to me,
and then I spake him thus.”
Nothing was done or said
that she hath left untold,
Save only one, that she forgot,
the taking of the gold.
“There is no loss,” quoth she,
“sweet wench, to loss of time,
Ne in thine age shalt thou repent
so much of any crime.
695For when I call to mind
my former passéd youth,
One thing there is which most of all
doth cause my endless ruth.
At sixteen years I first
did choose my loving fere,
And I was fully ripe before,
I dare well say, a year.
The pleasure that I lost,
that year so overpast,
700A thousand times I have bewept,
and shall while life doth last.
In faith it were a shame,
yea, sin it were, y-wis,
When thou may’st live in happy joy,
to set light by thy bliss.”
63. The Narrator comments on the persuasive power of gold. His address to the reader.She that this morning could
her mistress’ mind dissuade,
705Is now become an oratress,
her lady to persuade.
If any man be here
whom love hath clad with care,
To him I speak; if thou wilt speed,
thy purse thou must not spare,
Two sorts of men there are,
seld welcome in at door,
The wealthy sparing niggard, and
the suitor that is poor.
by kind to move the heart;
710And oftentimes a slight reward
doth cause a more desart.
Y-written have I read,
I wot not in what book,
There is no better way to fish
than with a golden hook.
64. Juliet and the Nurse talk about Romeus and devise a stratagem to go to church. The narrator ignores what it is. [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]Of Romeus these two
do sit and chat awhile,
And to themselves they
laugh how they the mother shall beguile.
715A feat excuse they find,
but sure I know it not,
And leave for her to go to shrift
on Saturday she got.
So well this Juliet,
this wily wench did know
Her mother’s angry hours, and eke
the true bent of her bow.
65. On Saturday Juliet, the Nurse and a maid go to church. [DP:23] [BAN:46] [BOA:46] [PAI:46]The Saturday betimes,
in sober weed y-clad,
720She took her leave, and forth she went
with visage grave and sad.
With her the nurse is sent,
as bridle of her lust,
With her the mother sends a maid
almost of equal trust.
Betwixt her teeth the bit
the jennet now hath caught,
So warely eke the virgin walks,
her maid perceiveth nought.
725She gazeth not in church
on young men of the town,
Ne wand’reth she from place to place,
but straight she kneeleth down
Upon an altar’s step,
where she devoutly prays,
And there upon her tender knees
the weary lady stays;
Whilst she doth send her maid
the certain truth to know,
730If Friar Laurence leisure had
to hear her shrift, or no.
Out of his shriving place
he comes with pleasant cheer;
The shamefast maid with bashful brow
to himward draweth near.
“Some great offence,” quoth he,
“you have committed late,
Perhaps you have displeased your friend
by giving him a mate.”
73566. The friar tells the two women to go hear a mass or two and then return [DP:24] [BAN:48] [BOA:47] [PAI:47]Then turning to the nurse
and to the other maid,
“Go, hear a mass or two,” quoth he,
"which straightway shall be said.
For, her confession heard,
I will unto you twain
The charge that I received of you
restore to you again.”
67. The narrator comments upon Juliet’s satisfaction.What, was not Juliet,
trow you, right well apaid?
740That for this trusty friar hath changed
her young mistrusting maid?
I dare well say, there is
in all Verona none,
But Romeus, with whom she would
so gladly be alone.
68. The friar confesses them and celebrates the secret marriage. [DP:25] [BAN:49] [BOA:48] [PAI:48] [R&J-Q1:21] [R&J-Q2:21]Thus to the friar’s cell
they both forth walkéd bin;
He shuts the door as soon as he
and Juliet were in.
745But Romeus, her friend,
was entered in before,
And there had waited for his love,
two hours large and more.
and every hour a day,
’Twixt hope he livéd and despair
of coming or of stay.
Now wavering hope and fear
are quite fled out of sight,
750For what he hoped he hath at hand,
his pleasant, chief delight.
And joyful Juliet
is healed of all her smart,
For now the rest of all her parts
have found her straying heart.
Both their confessions first
the friar hath heard them make.
And then to her with louder voice
thus Friar Laurence spake:
755“Fair lady Juliet,
my ghostly daughter dear,
As far as I of Romeus learn,
who by you standeth here,
’Twixt you it is agreed,
that you shall be his wife,
And he your spouse in steady truth,
till death shall end your life.
Are you both fully bent
to keep this great behest?”
760And both the lovers said, it was
their only heart’s request.
When he did see their minds
in links of love so fast,
When in the praise of wedlock’s
state some skilful talk was past,
When he had told at length
the wife what was her due,
His duty eke by ghostly talk
the youthful husband knew;
765How that the wife in love
must honour and obey,
What love and honour he doth owe,
and debt that he must pay.
The words pronouncéd were
which holy church of old
Appointed hath for marriage,
and she a ring of gold
Received of Romeus;
and then they both arose.
770To whom the friar then said:
“Perchance apart you will disclose,
Betwixt yourself alone,
the bottom of your heart;
Say on at once, for time it is
that hence you should depart.”
69. Romeus tells Juliet to send the Nurse to him to organise his arrival at night (the cord ladder). [BAN:37] [BAN:38] [BOA:49] [PAI:49] [R&J-Q1:20.c] [R&J-Q2:20.c] [R&J-Q1:19.e] [R&J-Q2:19.e]Then Romeus said to her,
both loth to part so soon,
“Fair lady, send to me again
your nurse this afternoon.
775Of cord I will bespeak
a ladder by that time;
By which, this night, while others sleep,
I will your window climb.
Then will we talk of love
and of our old despairs,
And then, with longer leisure had,
dispose our great affairs."
70. After planning to meet, Romeus and Juliet part. [DP:26] [BAN:50] [BOA:50] [PAI:50]These said, they kiss, and then
part to their fathers’ house,
780The joyful bride unto her home,
to his eke go’th the spouse:
Contented both, and
yet both uncontented still,
Till Night and Venus’ child give leave
the wedding to fulfil.
71. The narrator comments on the lovers’ cares and unrest.The painful soldier, sore
y-beat with weary war,
The merchant eke that needful things
doth dread to fetch from far,
785The ploughman that for doubt
of fierce invading foes,
Rather to sit in idle ease
than sow his tilt hath chose,
Rejoice to hear proclaimed
the tidings of the peace;
Not pleasured with the sound so much;
but, when the wars do cease,
Then ceased are the harms
which cruel war brings forth:
790The merchant then may boldly fetch
his wares of precious worth;
Dreadless the husbandman
doth till his fertile field.
For wealth, her mate, not for herself,
is peace so precious held:
So lovers live in care,
in dread, and in unrest,
And deadly war by striving thoughts
they keep within their breast:
795But wedlock is the peace
whereby is freedom won
To do a thousand pleasant things
that should not else be done.
The news of ended war
these two have heard with joy,
But now they long the fruit of peace
with pleasure to enjoy.
72. The narrator addresses Romeus, wishing him God’s blessing for his arrival at a safe port.In stormy wind and wave,
in danger to be lost,
800Thy steerless ship, O Romeus,
hath been long while betossed;
The seas are now appeased,
and thou, by happy star,
Art come in sight of quiet haven;
and, now the wrackful bar
Is hid with swelling tide,
boldly thou may’st resort
Unto thy wedded lady's bed,
thy long desiréd port.
805God grant, no folly's mist
so dim thy inward sight,
That thou do miss the channel that
doth lead to thy delight.
God grant, no danger’s rock,
y-lurking in the dark,
Before thou win the happy port,
wrack thy sea-beaten bark.
73. Romeus’ trusty servant prepares the ladder. [BAN:39] [BOA:51] [PAI:51]A servant Romeus had,
of word and deed so just,
810That with his life, if need required,
his master would him trust.
His faithfulness had oft
our Romeus proved of old;
And therefore all that yet was done
unto his man he told,
Who straight, as he was charged,
To which he hath made fast two strong
and crooked iron hooks.
81574. Juliet sends him the Nurse at twilight and appoints her to watch for Romeus to arrive. [BOA:52] [PAI:52]The bride to send the nurse
at twilight faileth not,
To whom the bridegroom given hath
the ladder that he got,
And then to watch for him
appointeth her an hour;
For whether Fortune smile on him,
or if she list to lower,
He will not miss to come
to his appointed place,
820Where wont he was to take by stealth
the view of Juliet’s face.
75. The narrator comments on their impatience about the arrival of night. [BOA:53] [PAI:53] [R&J-Q1:27.a] [R&J-Q2:27.a]How long these lovers thought
the lasting of the day,
Let other judge that wonted are
like passions to assay:
For my part, I do guess
each hour seems twenty year:
So that I deem, if they might have,
as of Alcume we hear,
825The sun bound to their will,
if they the heavens might guide,
Black shade of night and doubled dark
should straight all over hide.
76. Romeus arrives at Juliet’s chamber and the two lovers embrace. [DP:27] [BAN:51] [BOA:54] [PAI:54]Th’appointed hour is come;
he, clad in rich array,
Walks toward his desiréd home:
good fortune guide his way.
Approaching near the place
from whence his heart had life,
830So light he wox, he leapt the wall,
and there he spied his wife,
Who in the window watched
the coming of her lord;
Where she so surely had made fast
the ladder made of cord,
That dangerless her spouse
the chamber window climbs,
Where he ere then had wished himself
above ten thousand times.
835The windows close are shut;
else look they for no guest;
To light the waxen quarriers,
the ancient nurse is pressed,
Which Juliet had before
prepared to be light,
That she at pleasure might behold
her husband’s beauty bright.
A kerchief white as snow
ware Juliet on her head,
840Such as she wonted was to wear,
attire meet for the bed.
As soon as she him spied,
about his neck she clung,
And by her long and slender arms
a great while there she hung.
A thousand times she kissed,
and him unkissed again,
Ne could she speak a word to him,
though would she ne’er so fain.
845And like betwixt his arms
to faint his lady is;
She fets a sigh and clappeth close
her closéd mouth to his;
And ready then to sownd
she lookéd ruthfully,
That lo, it made him both at once
to live and eke to die.
These piteous painful pangs
were haply overpast,
850And she unto herself again
returnéd home at last.
Then, through her troubled breast,
even from the farthest part,
An hollow sigh, a messenger,
she sendeth from her heart.
77. The two lovers reassure each other and promise to love wisely. [BOA:55] [PAI:55]“O Romeus,” quoth she,
“in whom all virtues shine,
Welcome thou art into this place,
where from these eyes of mine
855Such teary streams did flow,
that I suppose well-nigh
The source of all my bitter tears
is altogether dry.
Absence so pined my heart,
which on thy presence fed,
And of thy safety and thy health
so much I stood in dread.
But now what is decreed
by fatal destiny,
860I force it not; let Fortune do,
and death, their worst to me.
Full recompensed am I
for all my passéd harms,
In that the Gods have granted me
to clasp thee in mine arms."
The crystal tears began
to stand in Romeus’ eyes,
When he unto his lady’s words
’gan answer in this wise:
865"Though cruel Fortune be
so much my deadly foe,
That I ne can by lively proof
cause thee, fair dame, to know
How much I am by love
enthralléd unto thee,
Ne yet what mighty power thou hast,
by thy desert, on me,
Ne torments that for thee
I did ere this endure,
870Yet of thus much, ne will I feign,
I may thee well assure,
The least of many pains
which of thy absence sprung,
More painfully than death itself
my tender heart hath wrung.
Ere this, one death had reft
a thousand deaths away,
But life prolongéd was by hope
of this desiréd day,
875Which so just tribute pays
of all my passéd moan,
That I as well contented am
as if myself alone
Did from the Ocean reign
unto the sea of Ind.
Wherefore now let us wipe away
old cares out of our mind.
For as the wretched state
is now redressed at last,
880So is it skill behind our back
the curséd care to cast.
Since Fortune of her grace
hath place and time assigned,
Where we with pleasure may content
our uncontented mind,
In Lethes hide we deep
all grief and all annoy,
Whilst we do bathe in bliss, and fill
our hungry hearts with joy.
885And, for the time to come,
let be our busy care
So wisely to direct our love,
as no wight else be ware;
Lest envious foes by force
despoil our new delight,
And us throw back from happy state
to more unhappy plight.”
78. The Nurse urges them to stop talking and waste no more time. [BOA:56] [PAI:56]Fair Juliet began
to answer what he said,
890But forth in haste the old nurse stepped,
and so her answer stayed.
“Who takes not time,” quoth she,
“when time well offered is,
Another time shall seek for time,
and yet of time shall miss.
And when occasion serves,
whoso doth let it slip,
Is worthy sure, if I might judge,
of lashes with a whip.
89579. The Nurse urges them to go to bed (the site of a love- battlefield.). [BOA:57] [PAI:57]Wherefore if each of you
hath harmed the other so,
And each of you hath been the cause
of other’s wailéd woe,
Lo here a field” – she showed
a field-bed ready dight –
"Where you may, if you list, in arms
revenge yourself by fight."
Whereto these lovers both
’gan easily assent,
900And to the place of mild revenge
with pleasant cheer they went,
Where they were left alone
– the nurse is gone to rest.
How can this be? They restless lie,
ne yet they feel unrest.
80. The narrator avows jealous ignorance of such a bliss which he can hardly describe.I grant that I envy
the bliss they livéd in;
Oh that I might have found the like,
I wish it for no sin,
905But that I might as well
with pen their joys depaint,
As heretofore I have displayed
their secret hidden plaint.
Of shivering care and dread
I have felt many a fit,
But Fortune such delight as theirs
did never grant me yet.
By proof no certain truth
can I unhappy write,
910But what I guess by likelihood,
that dare I to indite.
81. Description of their passing the night in jolly game. [DP:27] [BAN:52] [BOA:58] [PAI:58]The blindfold goddess that
with frowning face doth fray,
And from their seat the mighty kings
throws down with headlong sway,
Beginneth now to turn
to these her smiling face;
Needs must they taste of great delight,
so much in Fortune’s grace.
915If Cupid, god of love,
be god of pleasant sport,
I think, O Romeus, Mars himself
envies thy happy sort.
Ne Venus justly might,
as I suppose, repent,
If in thy stead, O Juliet,
this pleasant time she spent.
Thus pass they forth the night,
in sport, in jolly game;
920The hastiness of Phoebus’ steeds
in great despite they blame.
hath warlike Romeus got,
In which as yet no breach was made
by force of cannon shot,
And now in ease he doth
possess the hopéd place:
How glad was he, speak you that may
your lover’s parts embrace.
92582. The lovers blame the arrival of the morning but promise to meet again every night. [DP:27] [BAN:53] [BOA:59] [PAI:59] [R&J-Q1:30.a] [R&J-Q2:30.a]The marriage thus made up,
and both the parties pleased,
The nigh approach of day’s return
these seely fools dis-eased.
And for they might no while
in pleasure pass their time,
Ne leisure had they much to blame
the hasty morning’s crime,
With friendly kiss in arms
of her his leave he takes,
930And every other night, to come,
a solemn oath he makes,
By one self mean, and eke
to come at one self hour:
And so he doth, till Fortune list
to sauce his sweet with sour.
83. Uncertainty of life and the wavering of Fortune’s wheel. [DP:28]But who is he that can
his present state assure?
And say unto himself, thy joys
shall yet a day endure?
935So wavering Fortune’s wheel,
her changes be so strange;
And every wight y-thralléd is
by Fate unto her change,
Who reigns so over all,
that each man hath his part
(Although not aye, perchance, alike)
of pleasure and of smart.
For after many joys
some feel but little pain,
940And from that little grief they turn
to happy joy again.
But other some there are,
that, living long in woe,
At length they be in quiet ease,
but long abide not so;
Whose grief is much increased
by mirth that went before,
Because the sudden change of things
doth make it seem the more.
94584. Prefiguration of the two lovers’ mishap. [DP:28] [BOA:60] [PAI:60]Of this unlucky sort
our Romeus is one,
For all his hap turns to mishap,
and all his mirth to moan.
And joyful Juliet
another leaf must turn;
As wont she was, her joys bereft,
she must begin to mourn.
The summer of their bliss
doth last a month or twain,
950But winter’s blast with speedy foot
doth bring the fall again.
had heaved to the skies,
By envious Fortune overthrown,
on earth now grovelling lies.
She paid their former grief
with pleasure’s doubled gain,
But now for pleasure’s usury,
tenfold redoubleth pain.
95585. The feud is rekindled: a new brawl breaks the morning after Easter by Purser’s gate. [DP:29] [BAN:55] [BOA:61] [PAI:61] [R&J-Q1:22.b] [R&J-Q2:22.b]The prince could never cause
those households so agree,
But that some sparkles of their wrath
as yet remaining be;
Which lie this while raked up
in ashes pale and dead
Till time do serve that they again
in wasting flame may spread.
At holiest times, men say,
most heinous crimes are done;
960The morrow after Easter day
the mischief new begun.
A band of Capulets
did meet – my heart it rues –
Within the walls, by Purser’s gate,
a band of Montagues.
86. Description of Tybalt, chief of the Capulets. [BAN:56] [BOA:62] [PAI:62] [R&J-Q1:19.b] [R&J-Q2:19.b]The Capulets, as chief,
a young man have chose out,
Best exercised in feats of arms,
and noblest of the rout,
965Our Juliet’s uncle’s son,
that clepéd was Tybalt;
He was of body tall and strong,
and of his courage halt.
87. Tybalt starts the quarrel. [BAN:56] [BOA:63] [PAI:63] [R&J-Q1:22.b] [R&J-Q2:22.b]They need no trumpet sound
to bid them give the charge,
So loud he cried with strainéd voice
and mouth outstretchéd large:
"Now, now," quoth he, "my friends,
ourself so let us wreak,
970That of this day’s revenge and us
our children’s heirs may speak.
Now once for all let us
their swelling pride assuage;
Let none of them escape alive."
Then he, with furious rage,
And they with him, gave charge
upon their present foes,
And then forthwith a skirmish great
upon this fray arose.
975For, lo, the Montagues
thought shame away to fly,
And rather than to live with shame,
with praise did choose to die.
The words that Tybalt used
to stir his folk to ire,
Have in the breasts of Montagues
kindled a furious fire.
With lions’ hearts they fight,
warely themselves defend;
980To wound his foe, his present wit
and force each one doth bend.
This furious fray is long
on each side stoutly fought,
That whether part had got the worst,
full doubtful were the thought.
The noise hereof anon
throughout the town doth fly,
And parts are taken on every side;
both kindreds thither hie.
985Here one doth gasp for breath,
his friend bestrideth him;
And he hath lost a hand, and he
another maiméd limb,
His leg is cut whilst he
strikes at another full,
And whom he would have thrust quite through,
hath cleft his crackéd skull.
990Their valiant hearts forbode
their foot to give the ground;
With unappalléd cheer they took
full deep and doubtful wound.
Thus foot by foot long while,
and shield to shield set fast,
One foe doth make another faint,
but makes him not aghast.
88. Romeus arrives and tries to part the enemies, yet to no avail. [DP:30] [BAN:57] [BOA:64] [PAI:64] [R&J-Q1:22.c] [R&J-Q2:22.c]And whilst this noise is rife
in every townsman’s ear,
Eke, walking with his friends, the noise
doth woeful Romeus hear.
995With speedy foot he runs
unto the fray apace;
With him, those few that were with
him he leadeth to the place.
They pity much to see
the slaughter made so great,
That wetshod they might stand in blood
on either side the street.
"Part, friends," said he, "part, friends,
Help, friends, to part the fray,"
1000And to the rest, "Enough," he cries,
"Now time it is to stay.
God’s farther wrath you stir,
beside the hurt you feel,
And with this new uproar
confound all this our common weal."
But they so busy are
in fight, so eager and fierce,
That through their ears his sage advice
no leisure had to pierce.
1005Then leapt he in the throng,
to part and bar the blows
As well of those that were his friends,
as of his deadly foes.
89. Tybault sees Romeus and attacks him; Romeus tries to assuage him by saying that he has come to stop the fray, yet to no avail. [BAN:58] [BOA:65] [PAI:65] [R&J-Q1:22.d] [R&J-Q2:22.d]As soon as Tybalt had
our Romeus espied,
He threw a thrust at him that would
have passed from side to side;
But Romeus ever went,
doubting his foes, well armed,
1010So that the sword, kept out by mail,
hath nothing Romeus harmed.
“Thou dost me wrong,” quoth he,
“for I but part the fray;
Not dread, but other weighty cause
my hasty hand doth stay.
Thou art the chief of thine,
the noblest eke thou art,
Wherefore leave off thy malice now,
and help these folk to part.
1015Many are hurt, some slain,
and some are like to die.”
90. Tybalt does not listen to Romeo and hits him again. [BAN:59] [BOA:66] [PAI:66]“No, coward, traitor boy,” quoth he,
“straightway I mind to try,
Whether thy sugared talk,
and tongue so smoothly filed,
Against the force of this my sword
shall serve thee for a shield.”
And then at Romeus’ head
a blow he strake so hard,
1020That might have clove him to the brain
but for his cunning ward.
91. Romeus responds to Tybalt’s attack and kills him. [DP:31] [BAN:60] [BOA:67] [PAI:67] [R&J-Q1:24.a] [R&J-Q2:24.a]It was but lent to him
that could repay again,
And give him death for interest,
a well forborne gain.
Right as a forest boar,
that lodgéd in the thick,
Pinchéd with dog, or else with spear
y-prickéd to the quick,
1025His bristles stiff upright
upon his back doth set,
And in his foamy mouth his sharp
and crooked tusks doth whet;
Or as a lion wild
that rampeth in his rage,
His whelps bereft, whose fury can
no weaker beast assuage;
Such seeméd Romeus
in every other’s sight,
1030When he him shope, of wrong received
t’avenge himself by fight.
Even as two thunderbolts
thrown down out of the sky,
That through the air, the massy earth,
and seas, have power to fly;
So met these two, and while
they change a blow or twain,
Our Romeus thrust him through the throat,
and so is Tybalt slain.
103592. The narrator draws the moral: whoever seeks to give death seeks to give death loses his own life.Lo, here the end of those
that stir a deadly strife:
Who thirsteth after other's death,
himself hath lost his life.
93. The fray is ended by the Prince’s force. [BAN:61] [BOA:68] [PAI:68] [R&J-Q1:25.a] [R&J-Q2:25.a]The Capulets are quailed
by Tybalt’s overthrow,
The courage of the Montagues
by Romeus’ sight doth grow.
The townsmen waxen strong,
the Prince doth send his force;
1040The fray hath end. The Capulets
94. The Capulets plead for punishment. [DP:32] [BAN:63] [BOA:70] [PAI:70] [R&J-Q1:26.a] [R&J-Q2:26.a]do bring the breathless corpse
Before the Prince, and crave
that cruel deadly pain
May be the guerdon of his fault,
that hath their kinsman slain.
95. The Montagues defend Romeus. [BAN:64] [BOA:71] [PAI:71] [R&J-Q2:26.b]The Montagues do plead
their Romeus void of fault;
96. The onlookers blame Tybalt.The lookers-on do say, the fight
begun was by Tybalt.
104597. The Prince sentences Romeus to exile. [DP:32] [BAN:65] [BOA:72] [PAI:72] [R&J-Q1:26.c] [R&J-Q2:26.c]The Prince doth pause, and then
gives sentence in a while,
That Romeus for slaying him
should go into exile.
His foes would have him hanged,
or starve in prison strong;
His friends do think, but dare not say,
that Romeus hath wrong.
98. The Prince sentences the two households to death in case of new fights. [R&J-Q1:2.c] [R&J-Q2:2.c]Both households straight are charged
on pain of losing life,
1050Their bloody weapons laid aside,
to cease the stirréd strife.
99. The town bewails the loss of valiant Tybalt. [BAN:66] [BOA:73] [PAI:73]This common plague is spread
through all the town anon,
From side to side the town is filled
with murmur and with moan,
For Tybalt’s hasty death
bewailéd was of some,
Both for his skill in feats of arms,
and for, in time to come
1055He should, had this not chanced ,
been rich and of great power,
To help his friends, and serve the state;
which hope within an hour
Was wasted quite, and he,
thus yielding up his breath,
More than he holp the town in life,
hath harmed it by his death.
100. The town bewails the lot of Romeus and hope that he may soon return from exile. [BOA:74] [PAI:74]And other some bewail,
but ladies most of all,
1060The luckless lot by Fortune’s guilt
that is so late befall,
Without his fault, unto
the seely Romeus;
For whilst that he from native land
shall live exiléd thus,
From heavenly beauty’s light
and his well-shapéd parts,
The sight of which was wont, fair dames,
1065to glad your youthful hearts,
Shall you be banished quite,
and till he do return,
What hope have you to joy,
what hope to cease to mourn?
This Romeus was born
so much in heaven’s grace,
Of Fortune and of Nature so
beloved, that in his face,
Beside the heavenly beau-
1070ty glist’ring aye so bright,
And seemly grace that wonted so
to glad the seer’s sight,
A certain charm was graved
by Nature’s secret art,
That virtue had to draw to it
the love of many a heart.
So every one doth wish
to bear a part of pain,
That he releaséd of exile
might straight return again.
1075101. Description of Juliet’s despair; she retires to her room. [DP:34] [BOA:75] [PAI:75] [R&J-Q1:27.e] [R&J-Q2:27.e]But how doth mourn among
the mourners Juliet!
How doth she bathe her breast in tears!
What deep sighs doth she fet!
How doth she tear her hair!
Her weed how doth she rent!
How fares the lover hearing of
her lover’s banishment!
How wails she Tybalt’s death,
whom she had loved so well!
1080Her hearty grief and piteous plaint,
cunning I want to tell.
For delving deeply now
in depth of deep despair,
With wretched sorrow’s cruel sound
she fills the empty air;
And to the lowest hell
down falls her heavy cry,
And up unto the heaven’s height
her piteous plaint doth fly.
1085The waters and the woods
of sighs and sobs resound,
And from the hard resounding rocks
her sorrows do rebound.
Eke from her teary eyne
down rainéd many a shower,
That in the garden where she walked
might water herb and flower.
But when at length she saw
herself outragéd so,
1090Unto her chamber straight she hied;
there, overcharged with woe,
Upon her stately bed
her painful parts she threw,
And in so wondrous wise began
her sorrows to renew,
That sure no heart so hard,
but it of flint had bin,
But would have rued the piteous plaint
that she did languish in.
1095Then rapt out of herself,
whilst she on every side
Did cast her restless eye, at length
the window she espied,
Through which she had with joy
seen Romeus many a time,
Which oft the vent’rous knight was wont
for Juliet’s sake to climb.
102. Juliet curses the window which has let in Romeus and given her pleasure and deadly sorrow. [BOA:76] [PAI:76]She cried, "O cursed window,
accursed be every pane,
1100Through which, alas, too soon I raught
the cause of life and bane;
If by thy mean I have
some slight delight received,
Or else such fading pleasure as
by Fortune straight was reaved,
Hast thou not made me pay
a tribute rigorous
Of heapéd grief and lasting care,
and sorrows dolorous,
1105That these my tender parts,
which needful strength do lack
To bear so great unwieldy load
upon so weak a back,
Oppressed with weight of cares
and with these sorrows rife,
At length must open wide to death
the gates of loathéd life;
That so my weary sprite
may somewhere else unload
1110His deadly load, and free from thrall
may seek elsewhere abode
For pleasant, quiet ease
and for assuréd rest,
Which I as yet could never find
but for my more unrest?
103. Juliet is angry with Romeus for breaking the peace between their families and beguiling her. [BOA:77] [PAI:77] [R&J-Q1:27.g] [R&J-Q2:27.g]O Romeus, when first
we both acquainted were,
When to thy painted promises
I lent my list’ning ear,
1115Which to the brinks you filled
with many a solemn oath,
And I them judged empty of guile,
and fraughted full of troth,
I thought you rather would
continue our good will,
And seek t’appease our fathers’ strife,
which daily groweth still.
I little weened you would
have sought occasion how
1120By such an heinous act to break
the peace and eke your vow;
Whereby your bright renown
all whole y-clipséd is,
And I unhappy, husbandless,
of comfort robbed and bliss.
But if you did so much
the blood of Capels thirst,
Why have you often sparéd min,e
mine might have quenched it first.
1125Since that so many times
and in so secret place,
Where you were wont with veil of love
to hide your hatred’s face.
My doubtful life hath happed
by fatal doom to stand
In mercy of your cruel heart,
and of your bloody hand.
1130What? seemed the conquest which
you got of me so small?
What? seemed it not enough that I,
poor wretch, was made your thrall?
But that you must increase
it with that kinsman’s blood,
Which for his worth and love to me,
most in my favour stood
Well, go henceforth elsewhere,
and seek another while
Some other as unhappy as I,
by flattery to beguile.
1135And, where I come, see that
you shun to show your face,
For your excuse within my heart
shall find no resting place.
And I that now, too late,
my former fault repent,
Will so the rest of weary life
with many tears lament,
That soon my joiceless corpse
shall yield up banished breath,
1140And where on earth it restless lived,
in earth seek rest by death."
104. Juliet repents the words and blames herself for being unloyal to Romeus. [BOA:78] [PAI:78] [R&J-Q1:27.i] [R&J-Q2:27.i]These said, her tender heart,
by pain oppresséd sore,
Restrained her tears, and forced her tongue
to keep her talk in store;
And then as still she was,
as if in sownd she lay,
And then again, wroth with herself,
with feeble voice ’gan say:
1145“Ah, cruel murdering tongue,
murd’rer of others’ fame,
How durst thou once attempt to touch
the honour of his name?
Whose deadly foes do yield
him due and earnéd praise;
For though his freedom be bereft,
his honour not decays.
Why blam’st thou Romeus
for slaying of Tybalt,
1150Since he is guiltless quite of all,
and Tybalt bears the fault?
Whither shall he, alas,
poor banished man, now fly?
What place of succour shall he seek
beneath the starry sky?
Since she pursueth him, and him
defames by wrong,
That in distress should be his fort,
and only rampire strong.
1155Receive the recompense,
O Romeus, of thy wife,
Who, for she was unkind herself,
doth offer up her life,
In flames of ire, in sighs,
in sorrow and in ruth,
So to revenge the crime she did
commit against thy truth.”
105. Juliet seems to be about to die with anguish. [BOA:79] [PAI:79]These said, she could no more;
her senses all ’gan fail,
1160And deadly pangs began straightway
her tender heart assail;
Her limbs she stretchéd forth,
she drew no more her breath:
106. Narrator’s comment on Juliet’s signs of present death.Who had been there might well have seen
the signs of present death.
107. The nurse looks for Juliet and finally finds her in her chamber. [BOA:80] [PAI:80]The nurse that knew no cause
why she absented her,
Did doubt lest that some sudden grief
too much tormented her.
1165Each where but where she was
the careful beldam sought;
Last, of the chamber where she lay
she haply her bethought;
Where she with piteous eye
her nurse-child did behold,
Her limbs stretched out, her outward parts
as any marble cold.
The nurse supposed that she
had paid to death her debt,
1170And then, as she had lost her wits,
she cried to Juliet:
108. The nurse thinks her dead but then helps her to come round. [BOA:81] [PAI:81]“Ah, my dear heart,” quoth she,
“how grieveth me thy death!
Alas, what cause hast thou thus soon
to yield up living breath?”
But while she handled her,
and chaféd every part,
She knew there was some spark of life
by beating of her heart,
1175So that a thousand times
she called upon her name;
There is no way to help a trance
but she hath tried the same:
She openeth wide her mouth,
she stoppeth close her nose,
She bendeth down her breast, she wrings
her fingers and her toes,
And on her bosom cold
she layeth clothés hot;
1180A warméd and a wholesome juice
she poureth down her throat.
At length doth Juliet
heave faintly up her eyes,
And then she stretcheth forth her arm,
and then her nurse she spies.
109. Juliet rebukes the nurse for reviving her, as she wants to be dead.But when she was awaked
from her unkindly trance,
“Why dost thou trouble me,” quoth she,
“what drove thee, with mischance,
1185To come to see my sprite
forsake my breathless corpse?
Go hence, and let me die, if thou
have on my smart remorse.
For who would see her friend
to live in deadly pain?
Alas, I see my grief begun
for ever will remain.
Or who would seek to live,
all pleasure being past?
1190My mirth is done, my mourning moan
for aye is like to last.
Wherefore since that there is
none other remedy,
Come, gentle death, and rive my heart
at once, and let me die.”
110. Juliet discloses the reason of her suffering to the nurse. [BOA:82] [PAI:82]The nurse with trickling tears,
to witness inward smart,
With hollow sigh fetched from the depth
of her appalléd heart,
1195Thus spoke to Juliet,
y-clad with ugly care:
“Good lady mine, I do not know
what makes you thus to fare;
Ne yet the cause of your
unmeasured heaviness.
But of this one I you assure,
for care and sorrow’s stress,
This hour large and more
I thought, so God me save,
1200That my dead corpse should wait on yours
to your untimely grave.”
“Alas, my tender nurse
and trusty friend,” quoth she,
“Art thou so blind that with thine eye
thou canst not easily see
The lawful cause I have
to sorrow and to mourn,
Since those the which I held most dear,
I have at once forlorn.”
1205111. The nurse reassures Juliet and tells her that Romeus will return from exile soon. [BOA:83] [PAI:83]Her nurse then answered thus:
“Methinks it sits you ill
To fall in these extremities
that may you guiltless spill.
For when the storms of care
and troubles do arise,
Then is the time for men to know
the foolish from the wise.
You are accounted wise,
a fool am I your nurse;
1210But I see not how in like case
I could behave me worse.
Tybalt your friend is dead;
what, ween you by your tears
To call him back again? think you
that he your crying hears?
You shall perceive the fault,
if it be justly tried,
Of his so sudden death, was in
his rashness and his pride.
1215Would you that Romeus
himself had wrongéd so,
To suffer himself causeless to be
outraged of his foe,
To whom in no respect
he ought a place to give?
Let it suffice to thee, fair dame,
that Romeus doth live,
And that there is good hope
that he, within a while,
1220With greater glory shall be called
home from his hard exile.
How well y-born he is,
thyself, I know, canst tell,
By kindred strong, and well allied,
of all belovéd well.
With patience arm thyself,
for though that Fortune’s crime,
Without your fault, to both your griefs,
depart you for a time,
1225I dare say, for amends
of all your present pain,
She will restore your own to you,
within a month or twain,
With such contented ease
as never erst you had;
Wherefore rejoice a while in hope,
and be no more so sad.
112. The nurse will go to Frair Laurence’s cell to find Romeus, and urges Juliet to be confident. [BOA:84] [PAI:84] [R&J-Q1:27.o] [R&J-Q2:27.o]And that I may discharge
your heart of heavy care,
1230A certain way I have found out,
my pains ne will I spare,
To learn his present state,
and what in time to come
He minds to do; which known by me,
you shall know all and some.
But that I dread the whilst
your sorrows will you quell,
Straight would I hie where he doth lurk,
to Friar Laurence’ cell.
1235But if you ’gin eftsoons,
as erst you did, to mourn,
Whereto go I? you will be dead,
before I thence return.
So I shall spend in waste
my time and busy pain.
So unto you, your life once lost,
good answer comes in vain;
So shall I rid myself
with this sharp-pointed knife;
1240So shall you cause your parents dear
wax weary of their life;
So shall your Romeus,
despising lively breath,
With hasty foot, before his time,
run to untimely death.
Where, if you can awhile,
by reason, rage suppress,
I hope at my return to bring
the salve of your distress.
1245Now choose to have me here
a partner of your pain,
Or promise me to feed on hope
till I return again.”
113. Juliet sends the nurse to look for Romeus. [BOA:85] [PAI:85]Her mistress sends her forth,
and makes a grave behest
With reason’s reign to rule the thoughts
that rage within her breast.
114. Juliet is tossed between hope and despair.When hugy heaps of harms
are heaped before her eyes,
1250Then vanish they by hope of ’scape;
and thus the lady lies
’Twixt well assuréd trust,
and doubtful lewd despair:
Now black and ugly be her thoughts;
now seem they white and fair.
As oft in summer tide
black clouds do dim the sun,
And straight again in clearest sky
his restless steeds do run,
1255So Juliet’s wand’ring mind
y-clouded is with woe,
And by and by her hasty thought
the woes doth overgo.
115. Narrative shift from Juliet to Romeus.But now is time to tell,
whilst she was tosséd thus,
What winds did drive or haven did hold
her lover, Romeus.
116. Romeus hides away and goes to the friar. [DP:35] [BOA:69] [PAI:69]When he had slain his foe
that ’gan this deadly strife,
1260And saw the furious fray had end
by ending Tybalt’s life,
He fled the sharp revenge
of those that yet did live,
And doubting much what penal doom
the troubled prince might give,
He sought somewhere unseen
to lurk a little space,
And trusty Laurence’ secret cell
he thought the surest place.
1265117. The friar hides him in a secret place inside his cell, and goes out to learn what has been said.In doubtful hap aye best
a trusty friend is tried;
The friendly friar in this distress
doth grant his friend to hide.
A secret place he hath,
well sealed round about,
The mouth of which so close is shut,
that none may find it out;
But room there is to walk,
and place to sit and rest,
1270Beside a bed to sleep upon,
full soft and trimly drest.
The floor is planked so,
with mats it is so warm,
That neither wind nor smoky damps
have power him aught to harm.
Where he was wont in youth
his fair friends to bestow,
There now he hideth Romeus,
whilst forth he goeth to know
1275Both what is said and done,
and what appointed pain,
Is publishéd by trumpet’s sound;
then home he hies again.
118. The nurse arrives at the friar’s cell and is informed by him that that night Romeus will go to Juliet’s room. [BAN:68] [BOA:85] [PAI:85] [R&J-Q1:28.f] [R&J-Q2:28.f]By this, unto his cell
the nurse with speedy pace
Was come the nearest way; she sought
no idle resting place.
The friar sent home the news
of Romeus’ certain health,
1280 And promise made, what so befell,
he should that night by stealth
Come to his wonted place,
that they in needful wise
Of their affairs in time to come
might thoroughly devise.
119. The nurse gives the joyful news to Juliet.Those joyful news the nurse
brought home with merry joy;
And now our Juliet joys to think
she shall her love enjoy.
1285120. Romeo learns from the Friar that the Prince banished him from Verona and plunges into deep despair. [R&J-Q1:28.a] [R&J-Q2:28.a]The friar shuts fast his door,
and then to him beneath,
That waits to hear the doubtful news
of life or else of death,
“Thy hap,” quoth he, “is good,
danger of death is none,
But thou shalt live, and do full well,
in spite of spiteful fone.
This only pain for thee
was erst proclaimed aloud,
1290A banished man, thou may’st thee not
within Verona shroud.”
These heavy tidings heard,
his golden locks he tare,
And like a frantic man hath torn
the garments that he ware.
And as the smitten deer
So wal’treth he, and with his breast
doth beat the trodden ground.
1295He rises eft, and strikes
his head against the walls,
He falleth down again, and loud
for hasty death he calls:
121. Romeo threatens to kill himself. [R&J-Q1:28.c] [R&J-Q2:28.c] “Come speedy death,” quoth he,
"the readiest leech in love;
Since nought can else beneath the sun
the ground of grief remove,
Of loathsome life break down
the hated, staggering stays,
1300Destroy, destroy at once the
life that faintly yet decays.
But you, fair dame, in whom
dame Nature did devise
With cunning hand to work that might
seem wondrous in our eyes,
For you, I pray the Gods,
your pleasures to increase,
And all mishap, with this my death,
for evermore to cease.
1305And mighty Jove with speed
of justice bring them low,
Whose lofty pride, without our guilt,
our bliss doth overblow.
And Cupid grant to those
their speedy wrongs’ redress,
That shall bewail my cruel death
and pity her distress."
Therewith a cloud of sighs
he breathed into the skies,
1310And two great streams of bitter tears
ran from his swollen eyes.
These things the ancient friar
with sorrow saw and heard,
Of such beginning, eke the end,
the wise man greatly feared.
But lo, he was so weak,
by reason of his age,
That he ne could by force repress
the rigour of his rage.
1315His wise and friendly words
he speaketh to the air,
For Romeus so vexéd is
with care and with despair,
That no advice can pierce
his close forestoppéd ears;
So now the friar doth take his part
in shedding ruthful tears.
With colour pale and wan,
with arms full hard y-fold,
1320With woeful cheer his wailing friend
he standeth to behold.
And then our Romeus
with tender hands y-wrung,
With voice with plaint made hoarse, with sobs,
and with a falt’ring tongue,
Renewed with novel moan
the dolours of his heart;
His outward dreary cheer bewrayed
his store of inward smart.
1325First Nature did he blame,
the author of his life,
In which his joys had been so scant,
and sorrows aye so rife;
The time and place of birth
he fiercely did reprove,
He cried out, with open mouth,
against the stars above;
The fatal sisters three,
he said, had done him wrong,
1330The thread that should not have been spun,
they had drawn forth too long.
He wished that he had
before this time been born,
Or that as soon as he wan light,
his life he had forlorn.
His nurse he curséd,
and the hand that gave him pap,
The midwife eke with tender grip
that held him in her lap;
1335And then did he complain
on Venus’ cruel son,
Who led him first unto the rocks
which he should warely shun:
By means whereof he lost
both life and liberty,
And died a hundred times a day,
and yet could never die.
Love’s troubles lasten long,
the joys he gives are short;
1340He forceth not a lover’s pain,
their earnest is his sport.
A thousand things and more
I here let pass to write,
Which unto Love this woeful man
did speak in great despite.
On Fortune eke he railed,
he called her deaf and blind,
Unconstant, fond, deceitful, rash,
unruthful, and unkind.
1345And to himself he laid
a great part of the fault,
For that he slew and was not slain,
in fighting with Tybalt.
He blamed all the world,
and all he did defy,
But Juliet for whom he lived,
for whom eke would he die.
When after raging fits
appeaséd was his rage,
1350And when his passions, poured forth,
’gan partly to assuage,
So wisely did the friar
unto his tale reply,
That he straight cared for his life,
that erst had care to die.
122. The friar rebukes him. [R&J-Q1:28.d] [R&J-Q2:28.d]“Art thou," quoth he, "a man?
Thy shape saith, so thou art;
Thy crying, and thy weeping eyes
denote a woman’s heart.
For manly reason is
quite from off thy mind outchased,
And in her stead affections lewd
and fancies highly placed:
So that I stood in doubt,
this hour, at the least,
or else a brutish beast.
A wise man in the midst
of troubles and distress
1360Still stands not wailing present harm,
but seeks his harm’s redress.
As when the winter flaws
with dreadful noise arise,
And heave the foamy swelling waves
up to the starry skies,
So that the bruiséd bark
in cruel seas betost,
Despaireth of the happy haven,
in danger to be lost,
1365The pilot bold at helm,
cries, ‘Mates, strike now your sail,’
And turns her stem into the waves
that strongly her assail;
Then driven hard upon
the bare and wrackful shore,
In greater danger to be wracked
than he had been before,
He seeth his ship full right
against the rock to run,
1370But yet he doth what lieth in him
the perilous rock to shun:
Sometimes the beaten boat,
by cunning government,
The anchors lost, the cables broke,
and all the tackle spent,
The rudder smitten off,
and overboard the mast,
Doth win the long desiréd port,
the stormy danger past:
1375But if the master dread,
and overpressed with woe
Begin to wring his hands, and lets
the guiding rudder go,
The ship rents on the rock,
or sinketh in the deep,
And eke the coward drenchéd is:
so, if thou still beweep
And seek not how to help
the changes that do chance,
1380Thy cause of sorrow shall increase,
thou cause of thy mischance.
Other account thee wise,
prove not thyself a fool;
Now put in practice lessons learned
of old in wisdom’s school.
The wise man saith, ‘Beware
thou double not thy pain,
For one perhaps thou may’st abide,
but hardly suffer twain.’
1385As well we ought to seek
things hurtful to decrease,
As to endeavour helping things
by study to increase.
The praise of true freedom
in wisdom’s bondage lies,
He winneth blame whose deeds be fond,
although his words be wise.
Sickness the body’s gaol,
grief gaol is of the mind,
1390If thou canst ’scape from heavy grief,
true freedom shalt thou find.
Fortune can fill nothing
so full of hearty grief,
But in the same a constant mind
finds solace and relief.
Virtue is always thrall
to troubles and annoy,
But wisdom in adversity
finds cause of quiet joy.
1395And they most wretched are
that know no wretchedness,
And after great extremity
mishaps aye waxen less.
Like as there is no weal
but wastes away sometime,
So every kind of wailéd woe
will wear away in time.
If thou wilt master quite
the troubles that thee spill,
1400Endeavour first by reason’s help
to master witless will.
A sundry med’cine hath
each sundry faint disease,
But patience, a common salve,
to every wound gives ease.
The world is always full
of chances and of change,
Wherefore the change of chance must not
seem to a wise man strange.
1405For tickel Fortune doth,
in changing, but her kind,
But all her changes cannot change
a steady constant mind.
Though wavering Fortune turn
from thee her smiling face,
And Sorrow seek to set himself
in banished Pleasure’s place,
Yet may thy marred state
be mended in a while,
1410And she eftsoons that frowneth now,
with peasant cheer shall smile,
For as her happy state
no long while standeth sure,
Even so the heavy plight she brings,
not always doth endure.
What need so many words
to thee that art so wise?
Thou better canst advise thyself,
than I can thee advise.
1415Wisdom, I see, is vain,
if thus in time of need
A wise man’s wit unpractised
doth stand him in no steed.
I know thou hast some cause
of sorrow and of care,
But well I wot thou hast no cause
thus franticly to fare.
Affection’s foggy mist
thy feebled sight doth blind;
1420But if that reason’s beams again
might shine into thy mind,
If thou would’st view thy state
with an indifferent eye,
I think thou would’st condemn thy plaint,
thy sighing, and thy cry.
With valiant hand thou mad’st
thy foe yield up his breath ,
Thou hast escaped his sword and eke
the laws that threaten death.
1425By thy escape thy friends
are fraughted full of joy,
And by his death thy deadly foes
are laden with annoy.
Wilt thou with trusty friends
of pleasure take some part?
Or else to please thy hateful foes
be partner of their smart?
Why cry’st thou out on love?
Why dost thou blame thy fate?
1430Why dost thou so cry after death?
Thy life why dost thou hate?
Dost thou repent the choice
that thou so late didst choose?
Love is thy Lord; thou ought’st obey
and not thy prince accuse.
For thou hast found, thou know’st,
great favour in his sight.
He granted thee, at thy request,
thy only heart's delight.
1435So that the gods envied
the bliss thou lived’st in;
To give to such unthankful men
is folly and a sin.
Methinks I hear thee say,
the cruel banishment
Is only cause of thy unrest;
only thou dost lament
That from thy native land
and friends thou must depart,
1440Enforced to fly from her that
hath the keeping of thy heart:
And so oppressed with weight
of smart that thou dost feel,
Thou dost complain of Cupid’s brand,
and Fortune’s turning wheel.
Unto a valiant heart
there is no banishment,
All countries are his native soil
beneath the firmament.
1445As to the fish the sea,
as to the fowl the air,
So is like pleasant to the wise
each place of his repair.
Though froward Fortune chase
thee hence into exile,
With doubled honour shall she call
thee home within a while.
Admit thou should’st abide
abroad a year or twain,
1450Should so short absence cause so long
and eke so grievous pain?
Though thou ne may’st thy friends
here in Verona see,
They are not banished Mantua,
where safely thou may’st be.
Thither they may resort,
though thou resort not hither,
And there in surety may you talk
of your affairs together.
1455Yea, but this while, alas,
thy Juliet must thou miss,
The only pillar of thy health,
and anchor of thy bliss.
Thy heart thou leav’st with her,
when thou dost hence depart,
And in thy breast incloséd bear’st
her tender friendly heart.
But if thou rue so much
to leave the rest behind,
1460With thought of passéd joys content
thy uncontented mind.
So shall the moan decrease
wherewith thy mind doth melt,
Compared to the heavenly joys
which thou hast often felt.
He is too nice a weakling
that shrinketh at a shower,
And he unworthy of the sweet,
that tasteth not the sour.
1465Call now again to mind
thy first consuming flame,
How didst thou vainly burn in love
of an unloving dame?
Hadst thou not well-nigh wept
quite out thy swelling eyne
Did not thy parts, fordone with pain,
languish away and pine?
Those griefs and others like
were haply overpast,
1470And thou in height of Fortune’s wheel
well placéd at the last!
From whence thou art now fall’n,
that, raiséd up again,
With greater joy a greater while
in pleasure may’st thou reign.
Compare the present while
with times y-past before,
And think that Fortune hath for thee
great pleasure yet in store.
1475The whilst, this little wrong
receive thou patiently,
And what of force must needs be done,
that do thou willingly.
Folly it is to fear
that thou canst not avoid,
And madness to desire it much
that cannot be enjoyed.
To give to Fortune place,
not aye deserveth blame,
1480But skill it is, according to
the times thyself to frame."
123. Romeus is convinced and reassured by the wise friar.Whilst to this skilful lore
he lent his list’ning ears,
His sighs are stopped and stoppéd are
the conduits of his tears.
As blackest clouds are chased
by winter’s nimble wind,
So have his reasons chased
care out of his careful mind.
1485As of a morning foul
ensues an evening fair,
So banished hope returneth home
to banish his despair.
Now is affection’s veil
removed from his eyes,
He seeth the path that he must walk,
and reason makes him wise.
For very shame the blood
doth flash in both his cheeks,
1490He thanks the father for his lore,
and farther aid he seeks.
He saith, that skilless youth
for counsel is unfit,
And anger oft with hastiness
are joined to want of wit;
But sound advice abounds
in heads with hoarish hairs,
For wisdom is by practice won,
and perfect made by years.
1495But aye from this time forth
his ready bending will
Shall be in awe and governed
by Friar Laurence’ skill.
124. The friar gives him instructions on how to leave Verona, gain the favour of the Mantuan Prince and appease Escalus. [R&J-Q1:28.e] [R&J-Q2:28.e]The governor is now
right careful of his charge,
To whom he doth wisely discourse
of his affairs at large.
He tells him how he shall
depart the town unknown,
1500Both mindful of his friend’s safety,
and careful of his own;
How he shall guide himself,
how he shall seek to win
The friendship of the better sort,
how warely to creep in
The favour of the Mantuan prince
and how he may
Appease the wrath of Escalus,
and wipe the fault away;
1505The choler of his foes
by gentle means t’assuage,
Or else by force and practices
to bridle quite their rage:
125. The friar tells him to pay a last visit to his wife. [R&J-Q1:28.e] [R&J-Q1:28.h] [R&J-Q2:28.e] [R&J-Q2:28.h]And last he chargeth him
at his appointed hour
To go with manly, merry cheer
unto his lady’s bower,
And there with wholesome words
to salve her sorrow’s smart,
1510And to revive, if need require,
her faint and dying heart.
126. Romeus and Juliet feel reassured, but the narrator prefigures a new storm looming ahead.The old man’s words have filled
with joy our Romeus’ breast,
And eke the old wife’s talk hath set
our Juliet's heart at rest.
Whereto may I compare,
O lovers, this your day?
Like days the painful mariners
are wonted to assay;
1515For, beat with tempest great,
when they at length espy
Some little beam of Phoebus’ light,
that pierceth through the sky,
To clear the shadowed earth
by clearness of his face,
They hope that dreadless they shall run
the remnant of their race;
Yea, they assure themselves,
and quite behind their back
1520They cast all doubt, and thank the gods
for ’scaping of the wrack;
But straight the boisterous winds
with greater fury blow,
And overboard the broken mast
the stormy blasts do throw;
The heavens large are clad
with clouds as dark as hell,
And twice as high the striving waves
begin to roar and swell;
1525With greater dangers dread
the men are vexéd more,
In greater peril of their life
than they had been before.
127. At night Romeus and Juliet meet in her chamber and embrace. [DP:37] [BAN:69] [BAN:70] [BOA:86] [PAI:86]The golden sun was gone
to lodge him in the west,
The full moon eke in yonder south
had sent most men to rest,
When restless Romeus
and restless Juliet
1530In wonted sort, by wonted mean,
in Juliet's chamber met.
And from the window’s top
down had he leapéd scarce,
When she with arms outstretchéd wide
so hard did him embrace,
That well-nigh had the sprite,
not forced by deadly force,
Flown unto death, before the time
abandoning the corpse,
1535Thus muet stood they both
the eighth part of an hour,
And both would speak, but neither had
of speaking any power;
But on his breast her
head doth joyless Juliet lay,
And on her slender neck his chin
doth ruthful Romeus stay.
Their scalding sighs ascend,
and by their cheeks down fall
1540Their trickling tears, as crystal clear,
but bitterer far than gall.
Then he, to end the grief
which both they lived in,
Did kiss his love, and wisely thus
his tale he did begin:
128. Romeus’ speech on incostant Fortune and report of his own banishment. [BOA:87] [PAI:87]“My Juliet, my love,
my only hope and care,
To you I purpose not as now
with length of word declare
1545The diverseness and eke
the accidents so strange
Of frail unconstant Fortune, that
delighteth still in change;
Who in a moment heaves
her friends up to the height
Of her swift-turning slippery wheel,
then fleets her friendship straight.
O wondrous change, even with
the twinkling of an eye
1550Whom erst herself had rashly set
in pleasant place so high,
The same in great despite
down headlong doth she throw,
And while she treads and spurneth at
the lofty state laid low,
More sorrow doth she shape
within an hour’s space,
Than pleasure in an hundred years;
so geason is her grace.
1555The proof whereof in me,
alas, too plain appears,
Whom tenderly my careful friends
have fostered with my feres,
In prosperous high degree,
maintainéd so by fate,
That, as yourself did see, my foes
envied my noble state.
One thing there was I did
above the rest desire,
1560To which as to the sovereign good
by hope I would aspire.
That by our marriage mean
we might within a while,
To work our perfect happiness,
our parents reconcile:
That safely so we might,
not stopped by sturdy strife,
Unto the bounds that God hath set,
guide forth our pleasant life.
1565But now, alack, too soon
my bliss is overblown,
And upside down my purpose and
my enterprise are thrown.
And driven from my friends,
of strangers must I crave;
Oh, grant it God, from dangers dread
that I may surety have.
For lo, henceforth I must
wander in lands unknown
1570(So hard I find the Prince’s doom),
exiléd from mine own.
Which thing I have thought good
to set before your eyes
And to exhort you now to prove
yourself a woman wise,
That patiently you bear
my absent long abode,
For what above by fatal dooms
decreéd is, that God”.
1575129. Juliet interrupts him and blames Fortune and Romeus for leaving her in Verona: she either will die without him, or will be his companion in exile. [DP:38] [BAN:71] [BOA:88] [PAI:88]And more than this to say,
it seeméd, he was bent,
But Juliet in deadly grief,
Brake off his tale begun,
and whilst his speech he stayed,
These selfsame words, or like to these,
with dreary cheer she said:
“Why, Romeus, can it be
thou hast so hard a heart;
1580So far removed from ruth; so far
from thinking on my smart;
To leave me thus alone,
thou cause of my distress,
Besiegéd with so great a camp
of mortal wretchedness,
That every hour now,
and moment in a day,
A thousand times Death brags, as he
would reave my life away?
1585Yet such is my mishap,
O cruel destiny,
That still I live, and wish for death,
but yet can never die;
So that just cause I have
to think, as seemeth me,
That froward Fortune did of late
with cruel Death agree
To lengthen loathéd life,
to pleasure in my pain,
1590And triumph in my harm, as in
the greatest hopéd gain.
And thou, the instrument
Without whose aid she can no way
her tyrannous lust fulfil,
Art not a whit ashamed,
as far as I can see,
To cast me off, when thou hast culled
the better part of me.
1595Whereby, alas, too soon,
I, seely wretch, do prove,
That all the ancient sacred laws
of friendship and of love
Are quelled and quenchéd quite,
since he, on whom alway
My chief hope and my steady trust
was wonted still to stay,
For whom I am become
unto myself a foe,
1600Disdaineth me, his steadfast friend,
and scorns my friendship so.
Nay, Romeus, nay, thou may’st
of two things choose the one,
Either to see thy castaway,
as soon as thou art gone,
Headlong to throw herself
down from the window’s height,
And so to break her slender neck
with all the body’s weight,
1605Or suffer her to be
companion of thy pain,
Whereso thou go, Fortune thee guide,
till thou return again.
So wholly into thine
transforméd is my heart,
That even as oft as I do think
that thou and I shall part,
So oft, methinks, my life
withdraws itself away,
1610Which I retain to no end else
but to the end I may,
In spite of all thy foes,
thy present parts enjoy,
And in distress to bear with thee
the half of thine annoy.
Wherefore, in humble sort,
Romeus, I make request,
If ever tender pity yet
were lodged in gentle breast,
1615Oh, let it now have place
to rest within thy heart;
Receive me as thy servant, and
the fellow of thy smart.
Thy absence is my death,
thy sight shall give me life;
But if perhaps thou stand in dread
to lead me as a wife,
Art thou all counsel-less?
Canst thou no shift devise?
1620What letteth but in other
weed I may myself disguise?
What, shall I be the first?
Hath none done so ere this,
To ’scape the bondage of their friends?
Thyself can answer, yes.
Or dost thou stand in doubt
that I thy wife ne can
By service pleasure thee as much
as may thy hiréd man?
1625Or is my loyalty
of both accompted less?
Perhaps thou fear’st lest I for gain
forsake thee in distress.
What, hath my beauty now
no power at all on you,
Whose brightness, force, and praise, sometime
up to the skies you blew?
My tears, my friendship and
my pleasures done of old,
1630Shall they be quite forgot indeed?”
130. Romeus urges Juliet to remain behind to avoid being prosecuted and condemned. He promises that he will either return for good after four months, or will escape with her abroad. [DP:39] [BAN:72] [BOA:89] [PAI:89]When Romeus did behold
The wildness of her look,
her colour pale and dead,
The worst of all that might betide
to her, he ’gan to dread;
And once again he did
in arms his Juliet take,
And kissed her with a loving kiss,
and thus to her he spake:
1635“Ah, Juliet,” quoth he,
"the mistress of my heart,
For whom, even now, thy servant doth
abide in deadly smart,
Even for the happy days
which thou desir’st to see,
And for the fervent friendship’s sake
that thou dost owe to me,
At once these fancies vain
out of thy mind root out,
1640Except, perhaps, unto thy blame,
thou fondly go about
To hasten forth my death,
and to thine own to run,
Which Nature’s law and wisdom’s lore
teach every wight to shun.
For, but thou change thy mind,
I do foretell the end,
Thou shalt undo thyself for aye,
and me thy trusty friend.
1645For why, thy absence known,
thy father will be wroth,
And in his rage so narrowly
he will pursue us both,
That we shall try in vain
to ’scape away by flight,
And vainly seek a lurking place
to hide us from his sight.
Then we, found out and caught,
quite void of strong defence,
1650Shall cruelly be punished
for thy departure hence;
I as a ravisher,
thou as a careless child,
I as a man who doth defile,
thou as a maid defiled;
Thinking to lead in ease
a long-contented life,
Shall short our days by shameful death:
but if, my loving wife,
1655Thou banish from thy mind
two foes that counsel hath,
That wont to hinder sound advice,
rash hastiness and wrath;
If thou be bent t’obey
the lore of reason’s skill
And wisely by her princely power
suppress rebelling will,
If thou our safety seek,
more than thine own delight,
1660Since surety stands in parting, and
thy pleasures grow of sight,
Forbear the cause of joy,
and suffer for a while,
So shall I safely live abroad,
and safe turn from exile,
So shall no slander’s blot
thy spotless life distain,
So shall thy kinsmen be unstirred,
and I exempt from pain.
1665And think thou not, that aye
the cause of care shall last;
These stormy broils shall overblow,
much like a winter’s blast.
than fickle fantasy;
In nothing Fortune constant is
save in unconstancy.
Her hasty running wheel
is of a restless course,
1670That turns the climbers headlong down,
from better to the worse,
And those that are beneath
she heaveth up again:
So we shall rise to pleasure’s mount,
out of the pit of pain.
Ere four months overpass,
such order will I take,
And by my letters and my friends
such means I mind to make,
1675That of my wand’ring race
ended shall be the toil,
And I called home with honour great
unto my native soil.
But if I be condemned
to wander still in thrall,
I will return to you, mine own,
befall what may befall.
And then by strength of friends,
and with a mighty hand,
1680From Verona will I carry thee
into a foreign land,
Not in man’s weed disguised,
or as one scarcely known,
But as my wife and only fere,
in garment of thine own.
Wherefore repress at once
the passions of thy heart,
And where there is no cause of grief,
cause hope to heal thy smart.
1685For of this one thing thou
may’st well assuréd be,
That nothing else but only death
shall sunder me from thee.”
131. Juliet agrees but wants to be kept informed by Friar Laurence. [BOA:90] [PAI:90]The reasons that he made
did seem of so great weight,
And had with her such force, that she
to him ’gan answer straight:
“Dear sir, nought else wish I
but to obey your will;
1690But sure whereso you go, your heart
with me shall tarry still,
As sign and certain pledge,
till here I shall you see,
Of all the power that over you
yourself did grant to me;
And in his stead take mine,
the gage of my good will:
One promise crave I at your hand,
that grant me to fulfil;
1695Fail not to let me have,
at Friar Laurence’ hand,
The tidings of your health, and how
your doubtful case shall stand.
And all the weary while
that you shall spend abroad,
Cause me from time to time to know
the place of your abode.”
132. The lovers agree and spend the night in pain and plaint. [BOA:91] [PAI:91]His eyes did gush out tears,
a sigh brake from his breast,
1700When he did grant and with an oath
did vow to keep the hest.
Thus these two lovers pass
away the weary night,
In pain and plaint, not, as they wont,
in pleasure and delight.
133. At dawn the two lovers sadly part. [DP:40] [BAN:73] [BOA:92] [PAI:92] [R&J-Q1:30.c] [R&J-Q2:30.c]But now (somewhat too soon)
in farthest east arose
Fair Lucifer, the golden star
that lady Venus chose;
1705Whose course appointed is
with speedy race to run,
A messenger of dawning day
and of the rising sun.
Then fresh Aurora with
her pale and silver glade
Did clear the skies, and from the earth
had chaséd ugly shade.
When thou ne lookest wide,
ne closely dost thou wink
1710When Phoebus from our hemisphere
in western wave doth sink,
What colour then the heavens
do show unto thine eyes,
The same, or like, saw Romeus
in farthest eastern skies.
As yet he saw no day,
ne could he call it night
With equal force decreasing dark
fought with increasing light.
1715Then Romeus in arms
his lady ’gan to fold,
With friendly kiss, and ruthfully
she ’gan her knight behold.
With solemn oath they both
their sorrowful leave do take;
They swear no stormy troubles shall
their steady friendship shake.
134. Romeus goes to the friar’s cell, Juliet to her room. The narrator depicts their days of sorrow deprived of each other’s sun. [BAN:74] [BOA:93] [PAI:93]Then careful Romeus
again to cell returns,
1720And in her chamber secretly
our joyless Juliet mourns.
Now hugy clouds of care,
of sorrow, and of dread,
The clearness of their gladsome hearts
hath wholly overspread.
When golden-crested Phoebus
boasteth him in sky,
And under earth, to ’scape revenge,
his deadly foe doth fly
1725Then hath these lovers’ day
an end, their night begun,
For each of them to other is
as to the world the sun,
The dawning they shall see,
ne summer any more,
But blackfaced night with winter rough,
ah, beaten over sore.
135. After the discharging of the guards at Verona gates, Romeus goes away disguised as a merchant and once in Mantua sends back his man. [DP:41] [BAN:75] [BOA:94] [PAI:94]The weary watch discharged
did hie them home to sleep,
1730The warders and the scouts were charged
their place and course to keep,
And Verona gates awide
the porters had set open,
When Romeus had of his affairs
with Friar Laurence spoken.
Warely he walked forth,
vunknown of friend or foe,
Clad like a merchant venturer,
from top even to the toe.
1735He spurred apace, and came,
without stop or stay,
To Mantua gates, where lighted down,
he sent his man away
With words of comfort to
his old afflicted sire;
136. Romeus finds a lodging in Mantua, makes noble acquaintances and complains about the wrong he received with the duke. Yet time passes and nothing makes him rejoice. [BAN:75]And straight, in mind to sojourn there,
a lodging doth he hire,
And with the nobler sort
he doth himself acquaint,
1740And of his open wrong received
the duke doth hear his plaint.
He practiseth by friends
for pardon of exile;
The whilst he seeketh every way
his sorrows to beguile.
But who forgets the coal
that burneth in his breast?
Alas, his cares deny his heart
the sweet desiréd rest;
1745No time finds he of mirth,
he finds no place of joy,
But everything occasion gives
of sorrow and annoy.
For when in turning skies
the heaven’s lamps are light,
And from the other hemisphere
fair Phoebus chaseth night,
When every man and beast
hath rest from painful toil,
1750Then in the breast of Romeus
his passions ’gin to boil.
Then doth he wet with tears
the couch whereon he lies,
And then his sighs the chamber fill,
and out aloud he cries
Against the restless stars
in rolling skies that range,
Against the fatal sisters three,
and Fortune full of change.
1755Each night a thousand times
he calleth for the day,
He thinketh Titan’s restless steeds
of restiness do stay;
Or that at length they have
some baiting place found out,
Or, guided ill, have lost their way
and wandered far about.
While thus in idle thoughts
the weary time he spendeth,
1760The night hath end, but not with night
the plaint of night he endeth.
Is he accompanied?
Is he in place alone?
In company he wails his harm,
apart he maketh moan:
For if his feres rejoice,
what cause hath he to joy,
That wanteth still his chief delight,
while they their loves enjoy?
1765But if with heavy cheer
they show their inward grief,
He waileth most his wretchedness
that is of wretches chief.
When he doth hear abroad
the praise of ladies blown,
Within his thought he scorneth them,
and doth prefer his own.
When pleasant songs he hears,
while others do rejoice,
1770The melody of music doth
stir up his mourning voice.
But if in secret place
he walk somewhere alone,
The place itself and secretness
redoubleth all his moan.
Then speaks he to the beasts,
to feathered fowls and trees,
Unto the earth, the clouds, and to
whatso beside he sees.
1775To them he shew’th his smart,
as though they reason had.
Each thing may cause his heaviness,
but nought may make him glad.
And, weary of the day,
again he calleth night,
The sun he curseth, and the hour
when first his eyes saw light.
And as the night and day
their course do interchange,
1780So doth our Romeus’ nightly cares
for cares of day exchange.
137. Juliet pines away, and her mother urges her to give up suffering for Tybalt’s death. [DP:42] [BAN:76] [BOA:95] [PAI:95] [R&J-Q1:31.a] [R&J-Q2:31.a]In absence of her knight
the lady no way could
Keep truce between her griefs and her,
though ne’er so fain she would;
And though with greater pain
she cloakéd sorrow's smart,
Yet did her paléd face disclose
the passions of her heart.
1785Her sighing every hour,
her weeping everywhere,
Her reckless heed of meat, of sleep,
and wearing of her gear,
The careful mother marks;
then of her health afraid,
Because the griefs increaséd still,
thus to her child she said:
"Dear daughter, if you should
long languish in this sort,
1790I stand in doubt that oversoon
your sorrows will make short
Your loving father’s life
and mine, that love you more
Than our own proper breath and life.
Bridle henceforth therefore
Your grief and pain, yourself
on joy your thought to set,
For time it is that now you should
our Tybalt’s death forget.
1795Of whom since God hath claimed
the life that was but lent,
He is in bliss, ne is there cause
why you should thus lament.
You cannot call him back
with tears and shriekings shrill:
It is a fault thus still to grudge
at God’s appointed will.”
138. Juliet can no longer hide her pain but denies that it is due to Tybalt’s death. [BOA:96] [PAI:96]The seely soul had now
no longer power to feign,
1800No longer could she hide her harm,
but answered thus again,
With heavy broken sighs,
with visage pale and dead:
“Madam, the last of Tybalt’s tears
a great while since I shed.
Whose spring hath been ere this
so laded out by me,
That empty quite and moistureless
I guess it now to be.
1805So that my painéd heart
by conduits of the eyne
No more henceforth, as wont it was,
shall gush forth dropping brine.”
139. Juliet’s mother does not understand her behaviour and decides to talk it over with her husband. [DP:44] [BAN:76] [BAN:78] [BOA:97] [PAI:97]The woeful mother knew
not what her daughter meant,
And loth to vex her child by words,
her peace she warely hent.
But when from hour to hour,
from morrow to the morrow,
1810Still more and more she saw increased
her daughter’s wonted sorrow,
All means she sought of her
and household folk to know
The certain root whereon her grief
and bootless moan doth grow.
But lo, she hath in vain
her time and labour lore,
Wherefore without all measure is
her heart tormented sore.
1815And sith herself could not
find out the cause of care,
She thought it good to tell the sire
how ill his child did fare.
140. Juliet’s mother urges her husband to find out the true cause of Juliet’s pain and suggests that they find a good party for her, assuming that she is envious of her mates who are already married. [DP:44] [BAN:78] [BOA:98] [PAI:98]And when she saw her time,
thus to her fere she said:
"Sir, if you mark our daughter well,
the countenance of the maid,
And how she fareth since
that Tybalt unto death,
1820Before his time, forced by his foe,
did yield his living breath,
Her face shall seem so changed,
her doings eke so strange,
That you will greatly wonder at
so great and sudden change.
Not only she forbears
her meat, her drink, and sleep,
But now she tendeth nothing else
but to lament and weep.
1825No greater joy hath she,
nothing contents her heart
So much as in the chamber close
to shut herself apart;
Where she doth so torment
her poor afflicted mind,
That much in danger stands her life,
except some help we find.
But, out, alas, I see not
how it may be found,
1830Unless that first we might find whence
her sorrows thus abound.
For though with busy care
I have employed my wit,
And used all the ways I knew
to learn the truth of it,
Neither extremity
ne gentle means could boot;
She hideth close within her breast
her secret sorrow’s root.
1835This was my first conceit,
that all her ruth arose
Out of her cousin Tybalt’s death,
late slain of deadly foes;
But now my heart doth hold
a new repugnant thought;
Some greater thing, not Tybalt’s death,
this change in her hath wrought.
Herself assuréd me
that many days ago
1840She shed the last of Tybalt’s tears;
which word amazed me so
That I then could not guess
what thing else might her grieve;
But now at length I have bethought
me; and I do believe
The only crop and root
of all my daughter’s pain
Is grudging envy’s faint disease:
perhaps she doth disdain
1845To see in wedlock yoke
the most part of her feres,
Whilst only she unmarried
doth lose so many years.
And more perchance she thinks
you mind to keep her so;
Wherefore despairing doth she wear
herself away with woe.
Therefore, dear sir, in time
take on your daughter ruth;
1850For why, a brickle thing is glass,
and frail is frailless youth.
Join her at once to some
in link of marriage,
That may be meet for our degree,
and much about her age:
So shall you banish care
out of your daughter’s breast,
So we her parents, in our age,
shall live in quiet rest."
1855141. Capulet replies that although she is only 16, he has long thought about this matter and will find a prompt solution to cure her. [DP:45] [BAN:79] [BOA:99] [PAI:99] [R&J-Q2:6.b]Whereto ’gan easily
her husband to agree,
And to the mother’s skilful talk
thus straightway answered he:
"Oft have I thought, dear wife,
of all these things ere this,
But evermore my mind me gave,
it should not be amiss
By farther leisure had
a husband to provide;
1860Scarce saw she yet full sixteen years:
too young to be a bride!
But since her state doth stand
on terms so perilous,
And that a maiden daughter is
a treasure dangerous,
With so great speed I will
endeavour to procure
A husband for our daughter young,
her sickness faint to cure,
1865That you shall rest content,
so warely will I choose,
And she recover soon enough
the time she seems to lose.
The whilst seek you to learn,
if she in any part
Already hath, unware to us,
fixéd her friendly heart;
Lest we have more respect
to honour and to wealth,
1870Than to our daughter’s quiet life,
and to her happy health;
Whom I do hold as dear
as th’apple of mine eye,
And rather wish in poor estate
and daughterless to die,
Than leave my goods and her
y-thralled to such a one,
Whose churlish dealing, I once dead,
should be her cause of moan.”
1875142. Capulet starts searching for a good party.This pleasant answer heard,
the lady parts again,
And Capulet, the maiden’s sire,
within a day or twain,
Conferreth with his friends
for marriage of his daughter,
And many gentlemen there were
with busy care that sought her;
Both for the maiden was
well shapéd, young, and fair,
1880As also well brought up, and wise;
her father’s only heir.
143. Among the suitors, Capulet likes Count Paris best and tells his wife. [DP:45] [BAN:80] [BOA:100] [PAI:100] [R&J-Q1:6.b] [R&J-Q1:29.b] [R&J-Q2:29.b]Among the rest was one
inflamed with her desire,
Who County Paris clepéd was;
an earl he had to sire.
Of all the suitors him
the father liketh best,
And easily unto the earl
he maketh his behest,
1885Both of his own good will,
and of his friendly aid,
To win his wife unto his will,
and to persuade the maid.
The wife did joy to hear
the joyful husband say
How happy hap, how meet a match,
he had found out that day;
144. Lady Capulet informs Juliet and praises the beauty of Paris. [DP:46] [BAN:80] [BOA:101] [PAI:101] [R&J-Q1:11.c] [R&J-Q1:11.d] [R&J-Q1:31.b] [R&J-Q2:11.c] [R&J-Q2:11.d] [R&J-Q2:31.b]Ne did she seek to hide
her joys within her heart,
1890But straight she hieth to Juliet;
to her she tells, apart,
What happy talk, by mean
of her, was past no rather
Between the wooing Paris and
her careful, loving father.
The person of the man,
the features of his face,
His youthful years, his fairness, and
his port, and seemly grace,
1895With curious words she paints
before her daughter’s eyes,
And then with store of virtue’s praise
she heaves him to the skies.
She vaunts his race, and gifts
that Fortune did him give,
Whereby, she saith, both she and hers
in great delight shall live.
145. Juliet firmly rejects her mother’s proposal. [DP:47] [BAN:81] [BOA:102] [PAI:102] [R&J-Q1:31.c] [R&J-Q2:31.c]When Juliet conceived
her parents’ whole intent,
1900Whereto both love and reason’s right
forbade her to assent,
Within herself she thought,
rather than be forsworn,
With horses wild her tender parts
asunder should be torn.
Not now, with bashful brow,
in wonted wise, she spoke,
But with unwonted boldness straight
into these words she broke:
1905“Madam, I marvel much
that you so lavish are
Of me your child, your jewel once,
your only joy and care,
As thus to yield me up
at pleasure of another,
Before you know if I do like
or else mislike my lover.
Do what you list, but yet
of this assure you still,
1910If you do as you say you will,
I yield not there until.
For had I choice of twain,
far rather would I choose
My part of all your goods and eke
my breath and life to lose,
Than grant that he possess
of me the smallest part;
First, weary of my painful life,
my cares shall kill my heart,
1915Else will I pierce my breast
with sharp and bloody knife;
And you, my mother, shall become
the murd’ress of my life,
In giving me to him
whom I ne can, ne may,
Ne ought, to love: wherefore on knees,
dear mother, I you pray,
To let me live henceforth,
as I have lived tofore;
1920Cease all your troubles for my sake,
and care for me no more;
But suffer Fortune fierce
to work on me her will,
In her it lieth to do me boot,
in her it lieth to spill.
For whilst you for the best
desire to place me so,
You haste away my ling’ring death,
and double all my woe.”
1925146. Lady Capulet is taken aback and wishes her husband had been with her. She informs him. [DP:49] [BAN:81] [BOA:103] [PAI:103] [R&J-Q1:31.d] [R&J-Q1:32.a] [R&J-Q2:31.d] [R&J-Q2:32.a]So deep this answer made
the sorrows down to sink
Into the mother’s breast, that she
ne knoweth what to think
Of these her daughter’s words,
but all appalled she stands,
And up unto the heavens she throws
her wond’ring head and hands.
And, nigh beside herself,
her husband hath she sought;
1930She tells him all; she doth forget
ne yet she hideth aught.
147. Capulet summons Juliet. [DP:50] [BAN:82] [BOA:104] [PAI:104]The testy old man, wroth,
disdainful without measure,
Sends forth his folk in haste for her,
and bids them take no leisure:
Ne on her tears or plaint
at all to have remorse,
But, if they cannot with her will,
to bring the maid perforce.
1935The message heard, they part,
to fetch that they must fet,
And willingly with them walks forth
obedient Juliet.
148. Once in front of her father Juliet despairs and cannot speak for sobs and sighs. [BOA:105] [PAI:105]Arrivéd in the place,
when she her father saw,
Of whom, as much as duty would,
the daughter stood in awe,
The servants sent away,
(the mother thought it meet)
1940The woeful daughter all bewept
fell grovelling at his feet,
Which she doth wash with tears
as she thus grovelling lies.
So fast, and eke so plenteously
distil they from her eyes:
When she to call for grace
her mouth doth think to open,
Muet she is, for sighs and sobs
her fearful talk have broken.
1945149. Capulet gets incensed and orders Juliet to marry Paris and go to their castle called Freetown on Wednesday. He reminds her of the power of Roman fathers over their children. [DP:51] [BAN:84] [BOA:106] [PAI:106] [R&J-Q1:32.c] [R&J-Q1:32.d] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q2:32.c] [R&J-Q2:32.d] [R&J-Q2:32.f]The sire, whose swelling wrath
her tears could not assuage,
With fiery eyne, and scarlet cheeks,
thus spoke her in his rage,
Whilst ruthfully stood by
the maiden’s mother mild:
“Listen,” quoth he, “unthankful and
thou disobedient child,
Hast thou so soon let slip
out of thy mind the word
1950That thou so oftentimes hast heard
rehearséd at my board?
of parents stood in awe,
And eke what power upon their seed
the fathers had by law?
Whom they not only might pledge,
alienate, and sell,
Whenso they stood in need, but more,
if children did rebel,
1955The parents had the power
of life and sudden death.
What if those good men should again
receive the living breath,
In how strait bonds would they
thy stubborn body bind?
What weapons would they seek for thee?
what torments would they find?
To chasten, if they saw,
the lewdness of thy life,
1960Thy great unthankfulness to me,
and shameful sturdy strife?
Such care thy mother had,
so dear thou wert to me,
That I with long and earnest suit
provided have for thee
One of the greatest lords
that wons about this town,
And for his many virtues’ sake
a man of great renown.
1965Of whom both thou and I
unworthy are too much,
So rich ere long he shall be left,
his father’s wealth is such,
Such is the nobleness
and honour of the race,
From whence his father came: and yet,
thou playest in this case
The dainty fool, and stubborn
girl; for want of skill
1970Thou dost refuse thy offered weal,
and disobey my will.
Even by His strength I swear,
that first did give me life,
And gave me in my youth the strength
to get thee on my wife,
Unless by Wednesday next
thou bend as I am bent,
And at our castle called Freetown
thou freely do assent
1975To County Paris’ suit,
and promise to agree
To whatsoever then shall pass
’twixt him, my wife, and me,
Not only will I give
all that I have away
From thee, to those that shall me love,
me honour, and obey,
But also to so close
and to so hard a gaol
1980I shall thee wed, for all thy life,
that sure thou shalt not fail
A thousand times a day
to wish for sudden death,
And curse the day and hour when first
thy lungs did give thee breath.
Advise thee well, and say
that thou art warnéd now,
And think not that I speak in sport,
or mind to break my vow.
1985For were it not that I
to County Paris gave
My faith, which I must keep unfalsed,
my honour so to save,
Ere thou go hence, myself
would see thee chastened so,
That thou should’st once for all be taught
thy duty how to know;
And what revenge of old
the angry sires did find
1990Against their children that rebelled
and showed themselves unkind.”
150. Capulet and his wife go away without waiting for Juliet to reply, who remains kneeling on the floor. [DP:51] [BOA:107] [PAI:107] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q1:32.f] [R&J-Q1:33.a] [R&J-Q2:33.a]These said, the old man straight
is gone in haste away,
Ne for his daughter’s answer would
the testy father stay.
And after him his wife
doth follow out of door,
And there they leave their chidden
child kneeling upon the floor:
1995151. Juliet retires to her room and cries. [BOA:108] [BOA:109] [PAI:108]Then she that oft had seen
the fury of her sire,
Dreading what might come of his rage,
nould farther stir his ire.
Unto her chamber she
withdrew herself apart,
Where she was wonted to unload
the sorrows of her heart.
There did she not so much
busy her eyes in sleeping,
2000As overpressed with restless thoughts
in piteous bootless weeping.
The fast falling of tear
make not her tears decrease,
Ne, by the pouring forth of plaint,
the cause of plaint doth cease.
So that to th’end the moan
and sorrow may decay,
The best is that she seek some mean
to take the cause away.
2005152. In the morning Juliet goes to Saint Francis’ church, informs the friar of the organized match with Paris and threatens self-slaughter. [DP:55] [DP:58] [BAN:91] [BAN:93] [BOA:109] [BOA:111] [PAI:109] [R&J-Q1:33.e] [R&J-Q1:35.a] [R&J-Q2:33.e] [R&J-Q2:35.a]Her weary bed betime
the woeful wight forsakes,
And to Saint Francis’ church to mass
her way devoutly takes.
The friar forth is called;
she prays him hear her shrift;
Devotion is in so young years
a rare and precious gift.
When on her tender knees
the dainty lady kneels,
2010In mind to pour forth all the grief
that inwardly she feels,
With sighs and salted tears
her shriving doth begin,
For she of heapéd sorrows hath
to speak, and not of sin.
Her voice with piteous plaint
was made already hoarse,
And hasty sobs, when she would speak,
brake off her words perforce.
2015But as she may, piece-meal,
she poureth in his lap
The marriage news, a mischief new,
preparéd by mishap,
Her parents’ promise erst
to County Paris past,
Her father’s threats she telleth him,
and thus concludes at last:
"Once was I wedded well,
ne will I wed again;
2020For since I know I may not be
the wedded wife of twain,
For I am bound to have
one God, one faith, one make,
My purpose is as soon as I
shall hence my journey take,
With these two hands, which joined
unto the heavens I stretch,
The hasty death which I desire,
unto myself to reach.
2025This day, O Romeus,
this day thy woeful wife
Will bring the end of all her cares
by ending careful life.
So my departed sprite
shall witness to the sky,
And eke my blood unto the earth
bear record, how that I
Have kept my faith unbroken,
steadfast unto my friend."
2030153. The friar reassures Juliet and promises to help her against ill Fortune. [DP:59] [BAN:95] [BOA:110] [PAI:110]When this her heavy tale was told,
her vow eke at an end,
Her gazing here and there,
her fierce and staring look,
Did witness that some lewd attempt
her heart had undertook.
Whereat the friar astound,
and ghastfully afraid
Lest she by deed perform her word,
thus much to her he said:
2035“Ah, Lady Juliet,
what need the words you spoke?
I pray you, grant me one request,
for blesséd Mary’s sake.
Measure somewhat your grief,
hold here awhile your peace;
Whilst I bethink me of your case,
your plaint and sorrows cease.
Such comfort will I give you,
ere you part from hence,
2040And for th’assaults of Fortune’s ire
prepare so sure defence,
So wholesome salve will I
for your afflictions find,
That you shall hence depart again
with well contented mind.”
154. Juliet feels relieved and the friar retires to his chamber to think the matter out. He feels responsible for having married her not five months before. [BOA:111] [PAI:111]His words have chaséd straight
out of her heart despair,
Her black and ugly dreadful thoughts
by hope are waxen fair.
2045So Friar Laurence now
hath left her there alone,
And he out of the church in haste
is to his chamber gone;
Where sundry thoughts within
his careful head arise;
The old man’s foresight divers doubts
hath set before his eyes,
His conscience one while
condemns it for a sin
2050To let her take Paris to spouse,
since he himself had been
The chiefest cause, that she
unknown to father or mother,
Not five months past, in that self-place
was wedded to another.
155. The friar is troubled by fears for the lovers and himself in case Juliet fails to cope with such a weighty affair and it is punished. [DP:59] [BAN:96] [BOA:112] [PAI:112]Another while an hugy
heap of dangers dread
His restless thought hath heapéd up
within his troubled head.
Even of itself th’attempt
he judgeth perilous;
2055The execution eke he deems
so much more dangerous,
That to a woman’s grace
he must himself commit,
That young is, simple and unware,
for weighty affairs unfit;
For if she fail in aught,
the matter publishéd,
2060Both she and Romeus were undone,
himself eke punishéd.
156. Eventually he decides that it is better to risk his own reputation than Juliet’s honesty. He takes a little glass, and goes back to Juliet. [DP:59] [BAN:97] [BOA:113] [PAI:113]When to and fro in mind
he divers thoughts had cast,
With tender pity and with ruth
his heart was won at last;
He thought he rather would
in hazard set his fame,
Than suffer such adultery.
Resolving on the same,
2065Out of his closet straight
he took a little glass,
And then with double haste returned
where woeful Juliet was;
Whom he hath found well-nigh
in trance, scarce drawing breath,
Attending still to hear the news
of life or else of death.
157. The friar asks Juliet when she must consent and learns that it is on Wednesday, while the marriage is set on September 10. [BOA:114] [PAI:114]Of whom he did enquire
of the appointed day:
2070“On Wednesday next,” quoth Juliet,
“so doth my father say,
I must give my consent;
but, as I do remember,
The solemn day of marriage is
the tenth day of September.”
158. The friar vows to help and stand loyal to both Romeus and Juliet. [BOA:115] [PAI:115]“Dear daughter,” quoth the friar,
"of good cheer see thou be,
For lo, Saint Francis of his grace
hath showed a way to me,
2075By which I may both thee
and Romeus together
Out of the bondage which you fear
assurédly deliver.
Even from the holy font
thy husband have I known,
And, since he grew in years, have kept
his counsels as mine own.
For from his youth he would
unfold to me his heart,
2080And often have I curéd him
of anguish and of smart;
I know that by desert
his friendship I have won,
And I him hold as dear as if
he were my proper son.
Wherefore my friendly heart
cannot abide that he
Should wrongfully in aught be harmed,
if that it lay in me
2085To right or to revenge
the wrong by my advice,
Or timely to prevent the same
in any other wise.
And sith thou art his wife,
thee am I bound to love,
For Romeus’ friendship’s sake, and seek
thy anguish to remove,
And dreadful torments, which
thy heart besiegen round;
2090159. The friar bids Juliet to secrecy. [DP:59] [BAN:97] [BOA:116] [PAI:116]Wherefore, my daughter, give good ear
unto my counsels sound.
Forget not what I say,
ne tell it any wight,
Not to the nurse thou trustest so,
as Romeus is thy knight;
For on this thread doth hang
thy death and eke thy life,
My fame or shame, his weal or woe
that chose thee to his wife.
2095160. The friar describes his past adventures when he learned about a “private fruit” which will serve Juliet’s purpose. [BOA:117] [PAI:117]Thou art not ignorant,
because of such renown
As everywhere is spread of me,
but chiefly in this town,
That in my youthful days
abroad I travelléd,
Through every land found out by men,
by men inhabited;
So twenty years from home,
in lands unknown a guest,
2100I never gave my weary limbs
long time of quiet rest,
But in the desert woods,
to beasts of cruel kind,
Or on the seas to drenching waves,
at pleasure of the wind,
I have committed them,
to ruth of rover’s hand,
And to a thousand dangers more,
by water and by land.
2105But not in vain, my child,
hath all my wand’ring been;
Beside the great contentedness
my sprite abideth in,
That by the pleasant thought
of passéd things doth grow,
One private fruit more have I plucked,
which thou shalt shortly know:
What force the stones, the plants,
and metals have to work,
2110And divers other things that in
the bowels of earth do lurk,
With care I have sought out,
with pain I did them prove;
With them eke can I help myself
at times of my behove,
Although the science be
against the laws of men,
When sudden danger forceth me;
but yet most chiefly when
2115The work to do is least
displeasing unto God,
Not helping to do any sin
161.The friar explains Juliet why he wants to help her. [BOA:118] [PAI:118]For since in life no hope
of long abode I have,
But now am come unto the brink
of my appointed grave,
And that my death draws near,
whose stripe I may not shun,
2120But shall be called to make account
of all that I have done,
Now ought I from henceforth
more deeply print in mind
The judgment of the Lord, than when
youth’s folly made me blind,
When love and fond desire
were boiling in my breast,
Whence hope and dread by striving thoughts
had banished friendly rest.
2125162. The friar describes the wonderful effects of the sleeping potion he is about to give to Juliet. [DP:61] [BAN:98] [BOA:119] [PAI:119] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b]Know therefore, daughter, that
with other gifts which I
Have well attainéd to, by grace
and favour of the sky,
Long since I did find out,
and yet the way I know
Of certain roots and savoury herbs
to make a kind of dough,
Which bakéd hard, and beat
into a powder fine,
2130And drunk with conduit water, or
with any kind of wine,
It doth in half an hour
astone the taker so,
And mast’reth all his senses, that
he feeleth weal nor woe:
And so it burieth up
the sprite and living breath,
That even the skilful leech would say,
that he is slain by death.
2135One virtue more it hath,
as marvellous as this;
The taker, by receiving it,
at all not grievéd is;
But painless as a man
that thinketh nought at all,
Into a sweet and quiet sleep
immediately doth fall;
From which, according to
the quantity he taketh,
2140Longer or shorter is the time
before the sleeper waketh;
And thence, th’effect once wrought,
again it doth restore
Him that received unto the state
wherein he was before.
163. The friar urges Juliet to take manly courage and drink the potion. Then he illustrates the plan in details. [DP:61] [BAN:98] [BAN:100] [BOA:120] [PAI:120] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.c]Wherefore, mark well the end
of this my tale begun,
And thereby learn what is by thee
hereafter to be done.
2145Cast off from thee at once
the weed of womanish dread,
With manly courage arm thyself
from heel unto the head;
For only on the fear
or boldness of thy breast
The happy hap or ill mishap
of thy affair doth rest.
Receive this vial small
and keep it as thine eye;
2150And on thy marriage day, before
the sun do clear the sky,
Fill it with water full
up to the very brim,
Then drink it off, and thou shalt feel
throughout each vein and limb
A pleasant slumber slide,
and quite dispread at length
On all thy parts, from every part
reave all thy kindly strength;
2155Withouten moving thus
thy idle parts shall rest,
No pulse shall go, ne heart once beat
within thy hollow breast,
But thou shalt lie as she
that dieth in a trance:
Thy kinsmen and thy trusty friends
shall wail the sudden chance;
Thy corpse then will they bring
to grave in this churchyard,
2160Where thy forefathers long ago
a costly tomb prepared,
Both for themselves and eke
for those that should come after,
Both deep it is, and long and large,
where thou shalt rest, my daughter,
Till I to Mantua send
for Romeus, thy knight;
Out of the tomb both he and I
will take thee forth that night.
2165And when out of thy sleep
thou shalt awake again,
Then may’st thou go with him from hence;
and, healéd of thy pain,
In Mantua lead with him
unknown a pleasant life;
And yet perhaps in time to come,
when cease shall all the strife,
And that the peace is made
’twixt Romeus and his foes,
2170Myself may find so fit a time
these secrets to disclose,
Both to my praise, and to
thy tender parents’ joy,
That dangerless, without reproach,
thou shalt thy love enjoy."
164. Juliet agrees: she would rather take the poison than be married to Paris. [DP:62] [BAN:99] [BAN:100] [BOA:121] [PAI:121] [R&J-Q1:35.b] [R&J-Q2:35.b]When of his skilful tale
the friar had made an end,
To which our Juliet well
her ear and wits did bend,
2175That she hath heard it all
and hath forgotten nought,
Her fainting heart was comforted
with hope and pleasant thought,
And then to him she said:
"Doubt not but that I will
With stout and unappalléd heart
your happy hest fulfil.
Yea, if I wist it were
a venomous deadly drink,
2180Rather would I that through my throat
the certain bane should sink,
Than I, not drinking it,
into his hands should fall,
That hath no part of me as yet,
ne ought to have at all.
Much more I ought with bold
and with a willing heart
To greatest danger yield myself,
and to the deadly smart,
2185To come to him on whom
my life doth wholly stay,
That is my only heart’s delight,
and so he shall be aye.”
165. The friar prays God to make her constant in this deed. [BOA:122] [PAI:122] “Then go,” quoth he, “my child ,
I pray that God on high
Direct thy foot, and by thy hand
upon the way thee guy.
God grant he so confirm
in thee thy present will,
2190That no inconstant toy thee let
thy promise to fulfil.”
166. Juliet thanks the friar, goes back home, tells her mother about her changed mind, and sks her to inform her father. [DP:64] [BAN:101] [BOA:123] [PAI:123] [R&J-Q1:36.c] [R&J-Q2:36.c]A thousand thanks and more
our Juliet gave the friar,
And homeward to her father’s house
joyful she doth retire;
And as with stately gait
she passéd through the street,
She saw her mother in the door,
that with her there would meet,
2195In mind to ask if she
her purpose yet did hold,
In mind also, apart ’twixt them,
her duty to have told;
Wherefore with pleasant face,
and with unwonted cheer,
As soon as she was unto her
approachéd somewhat near,
Before the mother spake,
thus did she first begin:
2200"Madam, at Saint Francis’ church
have I this morning been ,
Where I did make abode
a longer while, percase,
Than duty would; yet have I not
been absent from this place
So long a while, without
a great and just cause why;
This fruit have I receivéd there,
my heart, erst like to die,
2205Is now revived again,
and my afflicted breast,
Releaséd from affliction,
restoréd is to rest.
For lo, my troubled ghost,
alas, too sore diseased,
By ghostly counsel and advice
hath Friar Laurence eased;
To whom I did at large
discourse my former life,
2210And in confession did I tell
of all our passéd strife;
Of County Paris’ suit,
and how my lord, my sire,
By my ungrate and stubborn strife
I stirréd unto ire;
But lo, the holy friar
hath by his ghostly lore
Made me another woman now
than I had been before.
2215By strength of arguments
he chargéd so my mind,
That, though I sought, no sure defence
my searching thought could find.
So forced I was at length
to yield up witless will,
And promised to be ordered by
the friar’s praiséd skill.
Wherefore, albeit I
had rashly, long before,
2220The bed and rites of marriage
for many years forswore,
Yet mother, now behold
your daughter at your will,
Ready, if you command her aught,
your pleasure to fulfil.
Wherefore in humble wise,
dear madam, I you pray,
To go unto my lord and sire,
withouten long delay;
2225Of him first pardon crave
of faults already past,
And show him, if it pleaseth you,
his child is now at last
Obedient to his lust
and to his skilful hest,
And that I will, God lending life,
on Wednesday next be prest
To wait on him and you,
unto th’appointed place,
2230Where I will, in your hearing, and
before my father’s face,
Unto the County give
my faith and whole assent,
To take him for my lord and spouse;
thus fully am I bent;
And that out of your mind
I may remove all doubt,
Unto my closet fare I now,
to search and to choose out
2235The bravest garments and
the richest jewels there,
Which, better him to please, I mind
on Wednesday next to wear;
For if I did excel
the famous Grecian rape,
Yet might attire help to amend
my beauty and my shape."
167. Lady Capulet rejoices and informs her husband, who greatly praises the friar. [DP:65] [BAN:102] [BOA:124] [PAI:124] [R&J-Q1:36.d] [R&J-Q2:36.d]The simple mother was
rapt into great delight;
2240Not half a word could she bring forth,
but in this joyful plight
With nimble foot she ran,
and with unwonted pace,
Unto her pensive husband, and
to him with pleasant face
She told what she had heard,
and praiseth much the friar,
And joyful tears ran down the cheeks
of this gray-bearded sire.
2245With hands and eyes heaved up
he thanks God in his heart,
And then he saith: "This is not, wife,
the friar’s first desart;
Oft hath he showed to us
great friendship heretofore,
By helping us at needful times
with wisdom’s precious lore.
In all our commonweal
scarce one is to be found
2250But is, for some good turn, unto
this holy father bound.
Oh that the third part of
my goods – I do not feign –
But twenty of his passéd years
might purchase him again!
So much in recompense
of friendship would I give,
So much, in faith, his extreme age
my friendly heart doth grieve."
2255168. Capulet informs Paris and invites him to Freetown to celebrate, but Paris suggests to cancel the feast and only asks to see Juliet. [BAN:87] [BOA:125] [PAI:125] [R&J-Q2:36.h]These said, the glad old man
from home go’th straight abroad
And to the stately palace hieth
where Paris made abode;
Whom he desires to be
on Wednesday next his guest,
At Freetown, where he minds to make
for him a costly feast.
But lo, the earl saith,
such feasting were but lost,
2260And counsels him till marriage-time
to spare so great a cost,
For then he knoweth well
the charges will be great;
The whilst, his heart desireth still
her sight, and not his meat.
He craves of Capulet
that he may straight go see
Fair Juliet; whereto he doth
right willingly agree.
2265169. Juliet’s mother recommends that she puts up her best manners to impress Paris and win his heart. He is so seduced that he wants to haste the wedding. [BAN:103] [BOA:126] [PAI:126] The mother, warned before,
her daughter doth prepare;
She warneth and she chargeth her
that in no wise she spare
Her courteous speech, her pleasant
looks, and comely grace,
But liberally to give them forth
when Paris comes in place:
Which she as cunningly
could set forth to the show,
2270As cunning craftsmen to the sale
do set their wares on row;
That ere the County did
out of her sight depart,
So secretly unwares to him
she stole away his heart,
That of his life and death
the wily wench had power.
And now his longing heart thinks long
for their appointed hour,
2275And with importune suit
the parents doth he pray
The wedlock knot to knit soon up,
and haste the marriage day.
170. Time passes and the appointed day approaches. The richest garments are bought to Juliet. The narrator refers to the written source of histale as proof of its verity. [BAN:103] [BOA:127] [PAI:127] [R&J-Q1:36.e] [R&J-Q2:36.e] The wooer hath passed forth
the first day in this sort,
And many other more than this,
in pleasure and disport.
At length the wishéd time
of long hopéd delight,
2280As Paris thought, drew near;
but near approachéd heavy plight.
Against the bridal day
the parents did prepare
Such rich attire, such furniture,
such store of dainty fare,
That they which did behold
the same the night before
Did think and say, a man could scarcely
wish for any more.
2285Nothing did seem too dear;
the dearest things were bought;
And, as the written story saith,
indeed there wanted nought
That ’longed to his degree,
and honour of his stock;
171. Juliet is secret also with the nurse, who starts praising Paris even more than Romeus before him. [R&J-Q1:33.b] [R&J-Q2:33.b]But Juliet, the whilst, her thoughts
within her breast did lock;
Even from the trusty nurse,
whose secretness was tried,
2290The secret counsel of her heart
the nurse-child seeks to hide.
For sith, to mock her Dame,
she did not stick to lie,
She thought no sin with show of truth
to blear her nurse’s eye.
In chamber secretly
the tale she ’gan renew,
That at the door she told her dame,
as though it had been true.
2295The flat’ring nurse did praise
the friar for his skill,
And said that she had done right well
by wit to order will.
She setteth forth at large
the father’s furious rage,
And eke she praiseth much to her
the second marriage;
And County Paris now
she praiseth ten times more,
2300By wrong, than she herself, by right,
had Romeus praised before.
Paris shall dwell there still,
Romeus shall not return;
What shall it boot her life
to languish still and mourn?
The pleasures past before
she must account as gain;
But if he do return, what then?
For one she shall have twain.
2305The one shall use her as
his lawful wedded wife,
In wanton love with equal joy
the other lead his life;
And best shall she be sped
of any townish dame,
Of husband and of paramour
to find her change of game.
These words and like the nurse
did speak, in hope to please,
2310But greatly did these wicked words
the lady’s mind disease;
172. Juliet feigns to be content with the nurse’s advice. [R&J-Q1:33.c] [R&J-Q2:33.c]But aye she hid her wrath,
and seeméd well content,
When daily did the naughty nurse
new arguments invent.
173. Juliet goes to her chamber and devises an excuse to send the nurse away. [BAN:104] [BOA:129] [PAI:129] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]But when the bride perceived
her hour approachéd near,
She sought, the best she could, to feign,
and tempered so her cheer,
2315That by her outward look
no living wight could guess
Her inward woe; and yet anew
renewed is her distress.
Unto her chamber doth
the pensive wight repair,
And in her hand a percher light
the nurse bears up the stair.
In Juliet’s chamber was
her wonted use to lie;
2320Wherefore her mistress, dreading that
she should her work descry,
As soon as she began
her pallet to unfold,
Thinking to lie that night where she
was wont to lie of old,
Doth gently pray her seek
her lodging somewhere else;
And, lest she, crafty, should suspect,
a ready reason tells.
2325174. Juliet wants to be left alone to pray as it is the night before her wedding. [BAN:104] [BOA:129] [PAI:129] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]"Dear friend," quoth she, "you know
tomorrow is the day
Of new contract; wherefore, this night,
my purpose is to pray
Unto the heavenly minds
that dwell above the skies,
And order all the course of things
as they can best devise,
2330That they so smile upon
the doings of tomorrow,
That all the remnant of my life
may be exempt from sorrow;
Wherefore, I pray you, leave
me here alone this night,
But see that you tomorrow come
before the dawning light,
For you must curl my hair,
and set on my attire."
175. The nurse leaves Juliet alone. [BAN:104] [BOA:130] [PAI:130] [R&J-Q1:37.a] [R&J-Q2:37.a]And easily the loving nurse
did yield to her desire,
2335For she within her head
did cast before no doubt;
She little knew the close attempt
her nurse-child went about.
176. Juliet prepares to drink the potion but begins to have doubts. [BAN:104] [BOA:131] [PAI:131] [R&J-Q1:37.b] [R&J-Q2:37.b]The nurse departed once,
the chamber door shut close,
Assuréd that no living wight
her doing might disclose,
She pouréd forth into
the vial of the friar
2340Water, out of a silver ewer
that on the board stood by her.
The sleepy mixture made,
fair Juliet doth it hide
Under her bolster soft, and so
unto her bed she hied:
Where divers novel thoughts
arise within her head,
And she is so environed
about with deadly dread,
2345That what before she had
resolved undoubtedly
That same she calleth into doubt;
and lying doubtfully,
Whilst honest love did strive
with dread of deadly pain,
With hands y-wrung, and weeping eyes,
thus ’gan she to complain:
177. Juliet laments her lot. [BOA:132] [PAI:132]"What, is there any one,
beneath the heavens high,
2350So much unfortunate as I?
so much past hope as I?
What, am I not myself,
of all that yet were born,
The deepest drenchéd in despair,
and most in Fortune’s scorn?
For lo, the world for me
hath nothing else to find,
Beside mishap and wretchedness
and anguish of the mind;
2355Since that the cruel cause
of my unhappiness
Hath put me to this sudden plunge,
and brought to such distress,
As, to the end I may
my name and conscience save,
I must devour the mixéd drink
that by me here I have,
Whose working and whose force
as yet I do not know."
2360And of this piteous plaint began
another doubt to grow:
178. Juliet fears that the potion will not work timely or at all. [BAN:107] [BOA:133] [PAI:133] [R&J-Q1:37.c] [R&J-Q2:37.c]“What do I know,” quoth she,
“if that this powder shall
Sooner or later than it should,
or else, not work at all?
And then my craft descried
as open as the day,
The people’s tale and laughing-stock
shall I remain for aye.”
2365179. She fears serpents or odious beasts should appear in the tomb, or that she might be stifled by the foul odour of the corpses. [BAN:106] [BOA:134] [PAI:134] [R&J-Q1:37.e] [R&J-Q2:37.e]“And what know I,” quoth she,
“if serpents odious,
And other beasts and worms that are
of nature venomous,
That wonted are to lurk
in dark caves underground,
And commonly, as I have heard,
in dead men’s tombs are found,
Shall harm me, yea or nay,
where I shall lie as dead?
2370Or how shall I that always have
in so fresh air been bred,
Endure the loathsome stink
of such an heapéd store
Of carcasses not yet consumed,
and bones that long before
Intombéd were, where I
my sleeping-place shall have,
Where all my ancestors do rest,
my kindred’s common grave?
2375Shall not the friar and
my Romeus, when they come,
Find me, if I awake before,
y-stifled in the tomb?”
180. She thinks she sees the carcass of Tybalt and the corpses of her forefathers. (sheis said to have golden hair) [BAN:105] [BOA:135] [PAI:135] [R&J-Q1:37.f] [R&J-Q2:37.f]And whilst she in these thoughts
doth dwell somewhat too long,
The force of her imagining
anon did wax so strong,
That she surmised she saw,
out of the hollow vault,
2380A grisly thing to look upon,
the carcass of Tybalt;
Right in the selfsame sort
that she few days before
Had seen him in his blood imbrued,
to death eke wounded sore.
And then when she again
within herself had weighed
That quick she should be buried there,
and by his side be laid,
2385All comfortless, for she
shall living fere have none,
But many a rotten carcass, and
full many a naked bone;
Her dainty tender parts
’gan shiver all for dread,
Her golden hairs did stand upright
upon her chillish head.
Then presséd with the fear
that she there livéd in,
2390A sweat as cold as mountain ice
pierced through her slender skin,
That with the moisture hath
wet every part of hers:
And more besides, she vainly thinks,
whilst vainly thus she fears,
A thousand bodies dead
have compassed her about,
And lest they will dismember her
she greatly stands in doubt.
2395181.She eventually drinks the potion and faints. [DP:67] [DP:68] [BAN:108] [BOA:136] [PAI:136] [R&J-Q1:37.g] [R&J-Q2:37.g]But when she felt her strength
began to wear away,
By little and little, and in her heart
her fear increaséd aye,
Dreading that weakness might,
or foolish cowardice,
Hinder the execution of
the purposed enterprise,
As she had frantic been,
in haste the glass she caught,
2400And up she drank the mixture quite,
withouten farther thought.
Then on her breast she crossed
her arms long and small,
And so, her senses failing her,
into a trance did fall.
182. At dawn the nurse goes to wake Juliet up. [DP:69] [BAN:109] [BOA:137] [PAI:137] [R&J-Q1:39.a] [R&J-Q2:39.a]And when that Phoebus bright
heaved up his seemly head,
And from the East in open skies
his glist’ring rays dispread,
2405The nurse unshut the door,
for she the key did keep,
And doubting she had slept too long,
she thought to break her sleep;
First softly did she call,
then louder thus did cry:
“Lady, you sleep too long; the earl
will raise you by and by."
But, wellaway, in vain
unto the deaf she calls,
2410She thinks to speak to Juliet,
but speaketh to the walls.
If all the dreadful noise
that might on earth be found,
Or on the roaring seas, or if
the dreadful thunder’s sound
Had blown into her ears,
I think they could not make
The sleeping wight before the time
by any means awake;
2415So were the sprites of life
shut up, and senses thralled;
Wherewith the seely careful nurse
was wondrously appalled.
She thought to daw her now
as she had done of old,
But lo, she found her parts were stiff
and more than marble cold;
Neither at mouth nor nose
found she recourse of breath;
2420Two certain arguments were these
of her untimely death.
183. The nurse discovers Juliet apparently dead and goes screaming to tell her mother. [DP:69] [DP:70] [BAN:110] [BOA:138] [PAI:138] [R&J-Q1:39.b] [R&J-Q2:39.b]Wherefore, as one distraught,
she to her mother ran,
With scratchéd face, and hair betorn,
but no word speak she can,
At last, with much ado,
"Dead," quoth she, "is my child!"
184. Lady Capulet despairs. [DP:73] [BAN:111] [BOA:139] [PAI:139] [R&J-Q1:39.c] [R&J-Q2:39.c] Architextuality"Now, out, alas!" the mother cried,
and as a tiger wild,
2425Whose whelps, whilst she is gone
out of her den to prey,
The hunter greedy of his game
doth kill or carry away;
So raging forth she ran
unto her Juliet’s bed,
And there she found her darling and
her only comfort dead.
Then shrieked she out as loud
as serve her would her breath,
2430And then, that pity was to hear,
thus cried she out on Death:
“Ah cruel Death,” quoth she,
"that thus against all right,
Hast ended my felicity,
and robbed my heart’s delight,
Do now thy worst to me,
once wreak thy wrath for all,
Even in despite I cry to thee,
thy vengeance let thou fall.
Whereto stay I, alas,
since Juliet is gone?
2435Whereto live I, since she is dead,
except to wail and moan?
Alack, dear child, my tears
for thee shall never cease;
Even as my days of life increase,
so shall my plaint increase:
Such store of sorrow shall
afflict my tender heart,
2440 That deadly pangs, when they assail
shall not augment my smart."
Then ’gan she so to sob,
it seemed her heart would brast;
185. Capulet, Paris, and guests arrive at the feast and instead of celebrating they mourn. [BAN:112] [BOA:140] [PAI:140] [R&J-Q1:39.f] [R&J-Q2:39.f] ArchitextualityAnd while she crieth thus, behold,
the father at the last,
The County Paris, and
of gentlemen a rout,
And ladies of Verona town
and country round about,
2445Both kindreds and allies
thither apace have pressed,
For by their presence there they sought
to honour so the feast;
But when the heavy news
the bidden guests did hear,
So much they mourned, that who had seen
their count’nance and their cheer,
Might easily have judged
by that that they had seen,
2450That day the day of wrath and eke
of pity to have been.
186. Juliet’s father laments more than anyone else. Doctors are sent for and it is determined that she died of inner care. [DP:71] [DP:72] [BAN:113] [BOA:141] [PAI:141] ArchitextualityBut more than all the rest
the father’s heart was so
Smit with the heavy news, and so
shut up with sudden woe,
That he ne had the power
his daughter to be-weep,
Ne yet to speak, but long is forced
his tears and plaint to keep.
2455In all the haste he hath
for skilful leeches sent;
And, hearing of her passéd life,
they judge with one assent
The cause of this her death
was inward care and thought;
And then with double force again
the doubled sorrows wrought.
187. General lamentation of the town over Juliet’s beautiful body. [BAN:112] [BOA:142] [PAI:142] [R&J-Q1:39.h] [R&J-Q2:39.h] ArchitextualityIf ever there hath been
a lamentable day,
2460 A day ruthful, unfortunate
and fatal, then I say,
The same was it in which
through Verona town was spread
The woeful news how Juliet
was stervéd in her bed.
For so she was bemoaned
both of the young and old,
That it might seem to him that would
the common plaint behold,
2465 That all the commonwealth
did stand in jeopardy;
So universal was the plaint,
so piteous was the cry.
For lo, beside her shape
and native beauty’s hue,
With which, like as she grew in age,
her virtues’ praises grew,
She was also so wise,
so lowly, and so mild,
2470 That even from the hoary head
unto the witless child,
She wan the hearts of all,
so that there was not one,
Ne great, ne small, but did that day
her wretched state bemoan.
188. In the meantime the friar has sent another friar to Romeus with a letter Containing instructions. [DP:75] [BAN:114] [BOA:143] [PAI:143]Whilst Juliet slept, and whilst
the other weepen thus,
Our Friar Laurence hath by this
sent one to Romeus,
2475A friar of his house,
there never was a better,
He trusted him even as himself,
to whom he gave a letter,
In which he written had
of everything at length,
That passed ’twixt Juliet and him,
and of the powder’s strength;
The next night after that,
he willeth him to come
2480To help to take his Juliet
out of the hollow tomb,
For by that time the drink,
he saith, will cease to work,
And for one night his wife and he
within his cell shall lurk;
Then shall he carry her
to Mantua away –
Till fickle Fortune favour him,
disguised in man’s array.
2485This letter closed he sends
to Romeus by his brother;
He chargeth him that in no case
he give it any other.
189. Friar John is stopped in Mantua because of a brother who had died of plague. [DP:75] [BAN:115] [BOA:144] [PAI:144] [R&J-Q1:42.b] [R&J-Q2:42.b]Apace our Friar John
to Mantua him hies;
And, for because in Italy
it is a wonted guise
That friars in the town
should seldom walk alone,
2490But of their convent aye should be
accompanied with one
Of his profession, straight
a house he findeth out,
In mind to take some friar with him,
to walk the town about.
But entered once he might
not issue out again,
For that a brother of the house,
a day before or twain,
2495 Died of the plague – a sickness which
they greatly fear and hate –
So were the brethren charged to keep
within their convent gate,
Barred of their fellowship
that in the town do wonne;
The townfolk eke commanded are
the friar’s house to shonne
Till they that had the care of health
their freedom should renew;
2500Whereof, as you shall shortly hear,
a mischief great there grew.
The friar by this restraint,
beset with dread and sorrow,
Not knowing what the letters held,
deferred until the morrow;
And then he thought in time
to send to Romeus.
190. In the meantime, in Verona the feast has been turned into a funeral. [DP:74] [BAN:119] [R&J-Q1:39.j] [R&J-Q2:39.j]But whilst at Mantua where he was,
these doings framéd thus,
2505The town of Juliet’s birth
was wholly busiéd
About her obsequies, to see
their darling buriéd.
Now is the parents’ mirth
quite changéd into moan,
And now to sorrow is returned
the joy of every one;
And now the wedding weeds
for mourning weeds they change,
2510And Hymene into a dirge;
alas, it seemeth strange:
Instead of marriage gloves,
now funeral gloves they have,
And whom they should see marriéd,
they follow to the grave.
The feast that should have been
of pleasure and of joy,
Hath every dish and cup filled full
of sorrow and annoy.
2515191. Italian funerary customs. [BOA:145] [PAI:145]Now throughout Italy
this common use they have,
That all the best of every stock
are earthéd in one grave:
For every household, if
it be of any fame,
Doth build a tomb, or dig a vault,
that bears the household’s name;
Wherein, if any of
that kindred hap to die,
2520They are bestowed; else in the same
no other corpse may lie.
192. Juliet is laid in the Capulet tomb where Tybalt was buried. [BAN:123] [BOA:146] [PAI:146]The Capulets her corpse
in such a one did lay,
Where Tybalt, slain of Romeus,
was laid the other day.
193. The Italian custom of bearing the corpse with open face in the funeral procession.Another use there is,
that whosoever dies,
Borne to their church with open face
upon the bier he lies,
2525In wonted weed attired,
not wrapped in winding sheet.
194. Romeus’ man happens to see Juliet in the funeral procession. [DP:76] [BAN:120] [BOA:147] [PAI:147] [R&J.Q1:41.b] [R&J.Q2:41.b]So, as by chance he walked abroad,
our Romeus’ man did meet
His master’s wife; the sight
with sorrow straight did wound
His honest heart; with tears he saw
her lodged underground.
195. The narrator repeats that Romeus’ man had been sent back to Verona. [BOA:148] [PAI:148]And, for he had been sent
to Verone for a spy,
2530The doings of the Capulets
by wisdom to descry,
196. Romeus’ man hurries back to Mantua and informs his master. [DP:76] [DP:77] [BAN:121] [BAN:124] [BOA:149] [PAI:149] [R&J-Q1:41.b] [R&J-Q2:41.b]And for he knew her death
did touch his master most,
Alas, too soon, with heavy news
he hied away in post;
And in his house he found
his master Romeus,
Where he, besprent with many tears,
began to speak him thus:
2535“Sire, unto you of late
is chanced so great a harm,
That sure, except with constancy
you seek yourself to arm,
I fear that straight you will
breathe out your latter breath,
And I, most wretched wight, shall be
th’occasion of your death.
Know, sir, that yesterday,
my lady and your wife,
2540I wot not by what sudden grief,
hath made exchange of life
And for because on earth
she found nought but unrest,
In heaven hath she sought to find
a place of quiet rest
And with these weeping eyes
myself have seen her laid
Within the tomb of Capulets”:
and herewithal he stayed.
2545197. At the news Romeus decides to die and to rest with Juliet. [DP:78] [DP:80] [BAN:125] [BAN:127] [BOA:150] [PAI:150] [R&J-Q1:41.c] [R&J-Q1:41.e] [R&J-Q2:41.c] [R&J-Q2:41.e]This sudden message’ sound,
sent forth with sighs and tears,
Our Romeus received too soon
with open list’ning ears
And thereby hath sunk in
such sorrow in his heart,
That lo, his sprite annoyéd sore
with torment and with smart,
Was like to break out of
his prison house perforce,
2550And that he might fly after hers,
would leave the massy corpse.
But earnest love that will
not fail him till his end,
This fond and sudden fantasy
into his head did send:
That if near unto her he
offered up his breath,
That then a hundred thousand parts
more glorious were his death.
2555Eke should his painful heart
a great deal more be eased,
And more also, he vainly thought,
his lady better pleased.
198. Romeus roams about town and finally finds a poor apothecary. [BAN:134] [BOA:151] [PAI:151] [R&J-Q1:41.f] [R&J-Q1:41.g] [R&J-Q2:41.f] [R&J-Q2:41.g]Wherefore when he his face
hath washed with water clean,
Lest that the stains of driéd tears
might on his cheeks be seen,
And so his sorrow should
of everyone be spied,
2560Which he with all his care did seek
from everyone to hide,
Straight, weary of the house,
he walketh forth abroad:
His servant, at the master’s hest,
in chamber still abode;
And then from street to street
he wand’reth up and down,
To see if he in any place
may find, in all the town,
2565A salve meet for his sore,
an oil fit for his wound;
And seeking long – alack, too soon! –
the thing he sought, he found.
An apothecary sat
unbusied at his door,
Whom by his heavy countenance
he guessed to be poor.
And in his shop he saw
his boxes were but few,
2570And in his window, of his wares,
there was so small a shew;
Wherefore our Romeus
assuredly hath thought,
What by no friendship could be got,
with money should be bought;
199. The law forbids to sell poison. [R&J-Q1:41.h] [R&J-Q2:41.h]For needy lack is like
the poor man to compel
To sell that which the city’s law
forbiddeth him to sell.
2575200. Romeus offers fifty crowns to the apothecary to buy the poison. The apothecary accepts the money and sells it to him. [R&J-Q1:41.i] [R&J-Q2:41.i]Then by the hand he drew
the needy man apart,
And with the sight of glittering gold
inflaméd hath his heart:
"Take fifty crowns of gold,"
quoth he, "I give them thee,
So that, before I part from hence,
thou straight deliver me
Some poison strong, that may
in less than half an hour
2580Kill him whose wretched hap shall be
the potion to devour."
The wretch by covetise
is won, and doth assent
To sell the thing, whose sale ere long,
too late, he doth repent.
201. The apothecary describes the speediness of the poison. [R&J-Q1:41.j] [R&J-Q2:41.j]In haste he poison sought,
and closely he it bound,
And then began with whispering voice
thus in his ear to round:
2585“Fair sir,” quoth he, “be sure
this is the speeding gear,
And more there is than you shall need;
for half of that is there
Will serve, I undertake,
in less than half an hour
To kill the strongest man alive;
such is the poison’s power.”
202. Romeus sends Peter to Verona and tells him to wait for him near where Juliet has been buried, with instruments to open the tomb. Peter carries out his task in secrecy. [DP:79] [BAN:128] [BOA:154] [PAI:154]Then Romeus, somewhat eased
of one part of his care,
2590Within his bosom putteth up
his dear unthrifty ware.
Returning home again,
he sent his man away
To Verona town, and chargeth him
that he, without delay,
Provide both instruments
to open wide the tomb,
And lights to show him Juliet;
and stay till he shall come
2595Near to the place whereas
his loving wife doth rest,
And chargeth him not to
bewray the dolours of his breast.
Peter, these heard, his leave
doth of his master take;
Betime he comes to town, such haste
the painful man did make:
And then with busy care
he seeketh to fulfil,
2600But doth disclose unto no wight
his woeful master’s will.
Would God, he had herein
broken his master’s hest!
203. Romeus writes a letter to his father where he tells the whole story, and hires a horse to go to Verona. [BAN:129] [BOA:155] [PAI:155] [R&J-Q1:41.c] [R&J-Q2:41.c]Would God, that to the friar he had
discloséd all his breast!
But Romeus the while
with many a deadly thought
Provokéd much, hath caused ink
and paper to be brought,
2605And in few lines he did
of all his love discourse,
How by the friar’s help, and by
the knowledge of the nurse,
The wedlock knot was knit,
and by what mean that night
And many mo he did enjoy
his happy heart’s delight;
Where he the poison bought,
and how his life should end;
2610And so his wailful tragedy
the wretched man hath penned.
The letters closed and sealed,
directed to his sire,
He locketh in his purse, and then
a post-horse doth he hire.
204. Romeus arrives at Verona at night and finds his man waiting for him at the monument, with the instruments. He bids him to go away and to bring the letter to his father. [DP:81] [BAN:131] [BAN:134] [BOA:156] [PAI:156] [R&J-Q1:43.d] [R&J-Q2:43.d]When he approachéd near,
he warely lighted down,
And even with the shade of night
he entered Verona town
2615Where he hath found his man,
waiting when he should come,
With lantern, and with instruments
to open Juliet’s tomb.
"Help, Peter, help," quoth he,
"help to remove the stone,
And straight when I am gone from thee,
my Juliet to bemoan,
See that thou get thee hence,
and on the pain of death
2620I charge thee that thou come not near
while I abide beneath,
Ne seek thou not to let
thy master’s enterprise,
Which he hath fully purposed
to do, in any wise.
Take there a letter, which,
as soon as he shall rise,
Present it in the morning to
my loving father’s eyes;
2625Which unto him, perhaps,
far pleasanter shall seem,
Than either I do mind to say,
or thy gross head can deem.”
205. Peter obediently withdraws. [BOA:157] [PAI:157] [R&J-Q1:43.e] [R&J-Q2:43.e]Now Peter, that knew not
the purpose of his heart,
Obediently a little way
withdrew himself apart;
206. Romeus descends into the tomb, sees Juliet and cries over her. [DP:83] [DP:84] [BAN:132] [BOA:158] [PAI:158] [R&J-Q1:43.f] [R&J-Q1:44.b] [R&J-Q2:43.f] [R&J-Q2:44.b]And then our Romeus
(the vault-stone set upright),
2630Descended down, and in his hand
he bare the candle light.
And then with piteous eye
the body of his wife
He ’gan behold, who surely was
the organ of his life;
For whom unhappy now
he is, but erst was blissed,
He watered her with tears, and then
a hundred times her kissed;
2635And in his folded arms
But no way could his greedy eyes
be filléd with her sight:
His fearful hands he laid
upon her stomach cold,
And them on divers parts beside
the woeful wight did hold.
207. Romeus drinks the poison and talks about their sacrifice for love in the same tomb as their best epitaph. [DP:85] [BAN:133] [BOA:159] [PAI:159] [R&J-Q1:44.f] [R&J-Q2:44.f]But when he could not find
the signs of life he sought,
2640Out of his curséd box he drew
the poison that he bought;
Whereof he greedily
devoured the greater part,
And then he cried, with deadly sigh
fetched from his mourning heart:
“O Juliet, of whom
the world unworthy was,
From which, for world’s unworthiness
thy worthy ghost did pass,
2645What death more pleasant could
my heart wish to abide
Than that which here it suffreth now,
so near thy friendly side?
Or else so glorious tomb
how could my youth have craved,
As in one self-same vault with thee
What epitaph more worth,
or half so excellent,
2650To consecrate my memory,
could any man invent,
As this our mutual and
our piteous sacrifice
Of life, set light for love?" But while
he talketh in this wise,
And thought as yet awhile
his dolours to enforce,
His tender heart began to faint,
pressed with the venom’s force;
2655Which little and little ’gan
to overcome his heart,
208. Romeus sees Tybalt’s body and asks for forgiveness. [BAN:141] [BOA:160] [PAI:160] [R&J-Q2:44.c]And whilst his busy eyne he threw
about to every part,
He saw, hard by the corpse
of sleeping Juliet,
Bold Tybalt’s carcase dead, which was
not all consuméd yet
To whom, as having life,
in this sort speaketh he:
2660"Ah, cousin dear, Tybalt, whereso
thy restless sprite now be
With stretchéd hands to thee
for mercy now I cry,
For that before thy kindly hour
I forcéd thee to die.
But if with quenchéd life
not quenchéd be thine ire,
But with revenging lust as yet
thy heart be set on fire,
2665What more amends, or cruel
wreak desirest thou
To see on me, than this which here
is showed forth to thee now?
Who reft by force of arms
from thee thy living breath,
The same with his own hand, thou seest,
doth poison himself to death.
And for he caused thee
in tomb too soon to lie,
2670Too soon also, younger than thou,
himself he layeth by.”
209. Romeus invokes Christ’s pity. [BOA:161] [PAI:161]These said, when he ’gan feel
the poison’s force prevail,
And little and little mastered life
for aye began to fail,
Kneeling upon his knees,
he said with voice full low:
“Lord Christ, that so to ransom me
descendedst long ago
2675Out of thy father’s bosom,
and in the Virgin’s womb
Didst put on flesh, oh, let my plaint
out of this hollow tomb,
Pierce through the air, and grant
my suit may favour find;
Take pity on my sinful and
my poor afflicted mind.
For well enough I know,
this body is but clay,
2680Nought but a mass of sin, too frail,
and subject to decay.”
210. Romeus dies upon Juliet’s body. [DP:97] [BAN:148] [BOA:162] [PAI:162] [R&J-Q1:44.c] [R&J-Q2:44.c]Then pressed with extreme grief
he threw with so great force
His overpresséd parts upon
his lady’s wailéd corpse,
That now his weakened heart,
weakened with torments past,
Unable to abide this pang,
the sharpest and the last,
2685Remainéd quite deprived
of sense and kindly strength,
And so the long imprisoned soul
hath freedom won at length
Ah cruel death, too soon, too soon
was this divorce,
’Twixt youthful Romeus’ heavenly sprite,
and his fair earthy corpse.
211. Without news from Romeus, the friar goes to the monument to meet Juliet when she wakes up. [DP:95] [BAN:145] [BOA:163] [PAI:163] [R&J-Q1:45.a] [R&J-Q2:45.a]The friar that knew what time
the powder had been taken,
2690Knew eke the very instant when
the sleeper should awaken;
But wondering that he could
no kind of answer hear
Of letters which to Romeus
his fellow friar did bear,
Out of Saint Francis’ church
himself alone did fare,
And for the opening of the tomb
meet instruments he bare.
2695Approaching nigh the place
and seeing there the light,
Great horror felt he in his heart,
by strange and sudden sight;
212. Peter tells the friar that Romeus is within the tomb. [R&J-Q1:45.b] [R&J-Q2:45.b]Till Peter, Romeus’ man,
his coward heart made bold,
When of his master’s being there
the certain news he told:
“There hath he been,” quoth he,
“this half hour at the least
2700And in this time, I dare well say,
his plaint hath still increast.”
213. They enter the monument, find Romeus dead and start crying. [DP:96] [BAN:147] [BOA:165] [PAI:165] [R&J-Q1:45.g] [R&J-Q2:45.g]Then both they entered in,
where they, alas, did find
The breathless corpse of Romeus,
forsaken of the mind:
Where they have made such moan,
as they may best conceive,
That have with perfect friendship loved,
whose friend fierce death did reave.
2705214. Juliet wakes up and asks the friar where Romeus is. [DP:87] [BAN:136] [BOA:166] [PAI:166] [R&J-Q1:45.h] [R&J-Q2:45.h]But whilst with piteous plaint
they Romeus’ fate beweep,
An hour too late fair Juliet
awakéd out of sleep;
And much amazed to see
in tomb so great a light,
She wist not if she saw a dream,
or sprite that walked by night.
But coming to herself
she knew them, and said thus:
2710“What, friar Laurence, is it you?
Where is my Romeus?”
215. The friar tells her what has happened and tries to convince her to go away and spend her life in a convent. [DP:99] [BAN:147] [BAN:152] [BOA:167] [PAI:167] [R&J-Q1:45.i] [R&J-Q2:45.i]And then the ancient friar,
that greatly stood in fear,
Lest, if they lingered over long
they should be taken there,
In few plain words the whole
that was betid, he told,
And with his finger showed his corpse
out-stretchéd, stiff, and cold;
2715And then persuaded her
with patience to abide
This sudden great mischance, and saith,
that he will soon provide
In some religious house
for her a quiet place,
Where she may spend the rest of life,
and where in time, percase,
She may with wisdom’s mean
measure her mourning breast,
2720And unto her tormented soul
call back exiléd rest.
216. Juliet sees Romeus’ dead body, kisses him and despairs. [DP:101] [BAN:149] [BAN:151] [BOA:168] [PAI:168] [R&J-Q1:46.a] [R&J-Q2:46.a]But lo, as soon as she
had cast her ruthful eye
On Romeus’ face, that pale and wan
fast by her side did lie,
Straightway she did unstop
the conduits of her tears,
And out they gush; with cruel hand
she tare her golden hairs.
2725But when she neither could
her swelling sorrow ’suage
Ne yet her tender heart abide
her sickness’ furious rage,
Fall’n on his corpse she lay,
long panting on his face,
And then with all her force and strength
the dead corpse did embrace.
As though with sighs, with sobs,
with force, and busy pain
2730She would him raise, and him restore
from death to life again:
A thousand times she kissed
his mouth, as cold as stone,
And it unkissed again as oft;
then ’gan she thus to moan:
“Ah, pleasant prop of all
my thoughts, ah, only ground
Of all the sweet delights that yet
in all my life I found,
2735Did such assuréd trust
within thy heart repose,
That in this place and at this time,
thy churchyard thou hast chose
Betwixt the arms of me,
thy perfect-loving make
And thus by means of me to end
thy life, and for my sake?
Even in the flow’ring of
thy youth, when unto thee
2740Thy life most dear, as to the most,
and pleasant ought to be,
How could this tender corpse
withstand the cruel fight
Of furious Death, that wonts to fray
the stoutest with his sight?
How could thy dainty youth
agree with willing heart,
In this so foul-infected place
to dwell, where now thou art?
2745Where spiteful Fortune hath
appointed thee to be
The dainty food of greedy worms,
unworthy, sure, of thee.
Alas, alas, alas,
what needed now anew
My wonted sorrows, doubled twice,
again thus to renew?
Which both the time and eke
my patient long abode
2750Should now at length have quenchéd quite,
and under foot have trode?
Ah, wretch and caitiff that
I am, even when I thought
To find my painful passion’s salve,
I missed the thing I sought;
And to my mortal harm
the fatal knife I ground,
That gave to me so deep, so wide,
so cruel deadly wound!
2755Ah thou, most fortunate
and most unhappy tomb!
For thou shalt bear, from age to age,
witness in time to come
Of the most perfect league
betwixt a pair of lovers,
That were the most unfortunate
and fortunate of others,
Receive the latter sigh,
receive the latter pang,
2760Of the most cruel of cruel slaves
that wrath and death aye wrang.”
217. The friar and Peter hear a noise and go away. [BOA:169] [PAI:169] [R&J-Q1:45.i] [R&J-Q2:45.i]And when our Juliet would
continue still her moan,
The friar and the servant fled,
and left her there alone;
For they a sudden noise
fast by the place did hear,
And lest they might be taken there,
greatly they stood in fear.
2765218. Juliet stabs herself with Romeus’ dagger and dies. The narrator addresses his female readers and comments on his own story-telling. [DP:102] [BAN:153] [BOA:170] [PAI:170] [R&J-Q1:46.c] [R&J-Q2:46.c]When Juliet saw herself
left in the vault alone,
That freely she might work her will,
for let or stay was none,
Then once for all she took
the cause of all her harms,
The body dead of Romeus,
and clasped it in her arms;
Then she with earnest kiss
sufficiently did prove,
2770That more than by the fear of death,
she was attaint by love;
And then past deadly fear,
for life ne had she care,
With hasty hand she did draw out
the dagger that he ware.
“O welcome Death,” quoth she,
“end of unhappiness,
That also art beginning of
assuréd happiness,
2775Fear not to dart me now,
thy stripe no longer stay,
Prolong no longer now my life,
I hate this long delay;
For straight my parting sprite,
out of this carcase fled,
At ease shall find my Romeus’ sprite
among so many dead.
And thou my loving lord,
Romeus, my trusty fere,
2780If knowledge yet do rest in thee,
if thou these words dost hear,
Receive thou her whom thou
didst love so lawfully,
That caused, alas, thy violent death,
although unwillingly;
And therefore willingly
offers to thee her ghost,
2785To th’end that no wight else but thou
might have just cause to boast
Th’enjoying of my love,
which aye I have reserved
Free from the rest, bound unto thee,
that hast it well deserved;
That so our parted sprites
from light that we see here,
In place of endless light and bliss
may ever live y-fere.”
These said, her ruthless hand
through-girt her valiant heart:
2790Ah, ladies, help with tears to wail
the lady’s deadly smart!
She groans, she stretcheth out
her limbs, she shuts her eyes,
And from her corpse the sprite doth fly;
what should I say, she dies.
219. The watchmen of the town enter the monument and find the corpses, which they lodge underground. They apprehend the friar and Peter. [DP:103] [BAN:154] [BOA:171] [PAI:171] [R&J-Q1:46.b] [R&J-Q1:47.b] [R&J-Q2:46.b] [R&J-Q2:47.b]The watchmen of the town
the whilst are passéd by,
And through the gates the candle-light
within the tomb they spy;
2795Whereby they did suppose
enchanters to be come,
That with prepared instruments
had opened wide the tomb,
In purpose to abuse
the bodies of the dead,
Which by their science’ aid abused,
do stand them oft instead.
Their curious hearts desire
the truth hereof to know;
2800Then they by certain steps descend,
where they do find below,
In claspéd arms y-wrapt,
the husband and the wife,
In whom as yet they seemed to see
some certain marks of life.
But when more curiously
with leisure they did view,
The certainty of both their deaths
assuredly they knew:
2805Then here and there so long
with careful eye they sought,
That at the length hidden they found
the murd’rers; so they thought.
In dungeon deep that night
they lodged them underground;
220. The next day they inform the Prince, and all the townspeople run to the monument. [DP:104] [DP:108] [BAN:155] [BAN:156] [BAN:157] [BOA:172] [PAI:172] [R&J-Q1:47.c] [R&J-Q1:47.d] [R&J-Q2:47.c] [R&J-Q2:47.d]The next day do they tell the prince
the mischief that they found.
The news was by and by
throughout the town dispread,
2810Both of the taking of the friar,
and of the two found dead.
Thither might you have seen
whole households forth to run,
For to the tomb where they did hear
this wonder strange was done,
The great, the small, the rich,
the poor, the young, the old,
With hasty pace do run to see,
but rue when they behold.
2815221. The Prince orders that the corpses be exhibited upon a high stage, and that the two suspects be openly examined. [DP:108] [BOA:173] [PAI:173] [R&J-Q1:48.a] [R&J-Q2:48.a]And that the murderers
to all men might be known,
Like as the murder’s bruit abroad
through all the town was blown,
The prince did straight ordain,
the corpses that were found
Should be set forth upon a stage
high raiséd from the ground,
Right in the selfsame form,
showed forth to all men’s sight,
2820That in the hollow vault they had
been found that other night;
And eke that Romeus’ man
and Friar Laurence should
Be openly examinéd;
for else the people would
Have murmuréd, or feigned
there were some weighty cause
Why openly they were not called,
and so convict by laws.
2825The holy friar now,
and reverent by his age,
In great reproach set to the show
upon the open stage,
A thing that ill beseem’d
a man of silver hairs,
His beard as white as milk he bathes
with great fast-falling tears:
Whom straight the dreadful judge
commandeth to declare
2830Both, how this murder had been done,
and who the murd’rers are;
For that he near the tomb
was found at hours unfit,
And had with him those iron tools
for such a purpose fit.
The friar was of lively
sprite and free of speech,
The judge’s words appalled him not,
ne were his wits to seech,
2835But with advised heed
a while first did he stay,
And then with bold assuréd voice
aloud thus ’gan he say:
222. The friar clears himself and recapitulates the events. [DP:107] [BOA:174] [PAI:174] [R&J-Q1:48.b] [R&J-Q1:48.c] [R&J-Q2:48.b] [R&J-Q2:48.c]“My lords, there is not one
among you, set together,
So that, affection set aside,
by wisdom he consider
My former passéd life,
and this my extreme age,
2840And eke this heavy sight, the wreak
of frantic Fortune’s rage,
But that, amazéd much,
doth wonder at this change,
So great, so suddenly befall’n,
unlooked for, and strange.
For I, that in the space
of sixty years and ten,
Since first I did begin, too soon,
to lead my life with men,
2845And with the world’s vain things,
myself I did acquaint,
Was never yet, in open place,
at any time attaint
With any crime, in weight
as heavy as a rush,
Ne is there any stander-by
can make me guilty blush,
Although before the face
of God, I do confess
2850Myself to be the sinfull’st wretch
of all this mighty press.
When readiest I am
and likeliest to make
My great accompt, which no man else
for me shall undertake;
When worms, the earth, and death,
do cite me every hour,
T’appear before the judgment seat
of everlasting power,
2855And falling ripe, I step
upon my grave’s brink,
Even then, am I, most wretched wight,
as each of you doth think,
Through my most heinous deed,
with headlong sway thrown down,
In greatest danger of my life,
and domage of renown.
The spring, whence in your head
this new conceit doth rise,
2860And in your heart increaseth still
your vain and wrong surmise,
May be the hugeness of
these tears of mine, percase,
That so abundantly down fall
by either side my face;
As though the memory
in Scriptures were not kept
That Christ our Saviour himself
for ruth and pity wept;
2865And more, whoso will read,
y-written shall he find,
That tears are as true messengers
of man’s unguilty mind.
Or else, a liker proof,
that I am in the crime,
You say these present irons are,
and the suspected time;
As though all hours alike
had not been made above.
2870Did Christ not say, the day had twelve?
whereby he sought to prove,
That no respect of hours
ought justly to be had,
But at all times men have the choice
of doing good or bad;
Even as the sprite of God
the hearts of men doth guide,
Or as it leaveth them to stray
from virtue’s path aside.
2875As for the irons that
were taken in my hand,
As now I deem, I need not seek
to make ye understand
To what use iron first
was made, when it began;
How of itself it helpeth not,
ne yet can help a man.
The thing that hurteth is
the malice of his will,
2880That such indifferent things is wont
to use and order ill.
Thus much I thought to say,
to cause you so to know
That neither these my piteous tears,
though ne’er so fast they flow,
Ne yet these iron tools,
nor the suspected time,
Can justly prove the murder done,
or damn me of the crime:
2885No one of these hath power,
ne power have all the three,
To make me other than I am,
how so I seem to be.
But sure my conscience,
if so my guilt deserve,
For an appeacher, witness, and
a hangman, eke should serve;
For through mine age, whose hairs
of long time since were hoar,
2890And credit great that I was in,
with you, in time tofore,
And eke the sojourn short
that I on earth must make,
That every day and hour do look
my journey hence to take,
My conscience inwardly
should more torment me thrice,
Than all the outward deadly pain
that all you could devise.
2895But, God I praise, I feel
no worm that gnaweth me,
And from remorse’s pricking sting
I joy that I am free:
I mean, as touching this,
wherewith you troubled are,
Wherewith you should be troubled still,
if I my speech should spare.
But to the end I may
set all your hearts at rest,
2900And pluck out all the scruples that
are rooted in your breast,
Which might perhaps henceforth,
increasing more and more,
Within your conscience also
increase your cureless sore,
I swear by yonder heavens,
whither I hope to climb,
And for a witness of my words
my heart attesteth Him,
2905Whose mighty hand doth wield
them in their violent sway,
And on the rolling stormy seas
the heavy earth doth stay,
That I will make a short
and eke a true discourse
Of this most woeful tragedy,
and show both th’end and source
Of their unhappy death,
which you perchance no less
2910Will wonder at than they, alas,
Tormented much in mind,
not forcing lively breath,
With strong and patient heart did
yield themself to cruel death:
Such was the mutual love
wherein they burnéd both,
And of their promised friendship’s faith
so steady was the troth.”
2915And then the ancient friar
began to make discourse,
Even from the first, of Romeus’
and Juliet’s amours;
How first by sudden sight
the one the other chose,
And ’twixt themself did knit the knot
which only death might loose;
And how, within a while,
with hotter love oppressed,
2920Under confession’s cloak, to him
themself they have addressed,
And how with solemn oaths
they have protested both,
That they in heart are married
by promise and by oath;
And that except he grant
the rites of church to give,
They shall be forced by earnest love
in sinful state to live:
2925Which thing when he had weighed,
and when he understood
That the agreement ’twixt them twain
was lawful, honest, good,
And all things peiséd well,
it seeméd meet to be,
For like they were of nobleness,
age, riches, and degree:
Hoping that so, at length,
ended might be the strife,
2930Of Montagues and Capulets,
that led in hate their life,
Thinking to work a work
well pleasing in God’s sight,
In secret shrift he wedded them;
and they the self-same night
Made up the marriage
in house of Capulet,
As well doth know, if she be asked,
the nurse of Juliet.
2935He told how Romeus fled
for reaving Tybalt’s life,
And how, the whilst, Paris the earl
was offered to his wife;
And how the lady did
so great a wrong disdain,
2940And how to shrift unto his church
she came to him again;
And how she fell flat down
before his feet aground,
And how she sware, her hand
and bloody knife should wound
Her harmless heart, except
that he some mean did find
To disappoint the earl’s attempt;
and spotless save her mind.
Wherefore, he doth conclude,
although that long before
By thought of death and age he had
refused for evermore
2945The hidden arts which he
delighted in, in youth,
Yet won by her importun’ness,
and by his inward ruth,
And fearing lest she would
her cruel vow discharge
His closed conscience he had
opened and set at large;
And rather did he choose
to suffer for one time
2950His soul to be spotted somedeal
with small and easy crime,
Than that the lady should,
weary of living breath,
Murder herself, and danger much
her seely soul by death:
Wherefore his ancient arts
again he puts in ure,
A certain powder gave he her,
that made her sleep so sure,
2955That they her held for dead;
and how that Friar John
With letters sent to Romeus
to Mantua is gone;
Of whom he knoweth not
as yet, what is become;
And how that dead he found his friend
within her kindred’s tomb.
He thinks with poison strong,
for care the young man starved,
2960Supposing Juliet dead; and how
that Juliet hath carved,
With Romeus’ dagger drawn,
her heart, and yielded breath,
Desirous to accompany
her lover after death;
And how they could not save
her, so they were afeard,
And hid themself, dreading the noise
of watchmen, that they heard.
2965And for the proof of this
his tale, he doth desire
The judge to send forthwith
to Mantua for the friar,
To learn his cause of stay,
and eke to read his letter;
And, more beside, to th’end that they
might judge his cause the better,
He prayeth them depose
the nurse of Juliet,
2970And Romeus’ man whom at unwares
beside the tomb he met.
223. Peter confirms the friar’s words and produces Romeus’ letter. [BOA:175] [PAI:175] [R&J-Q1:48.e] [R&J-Q1:48.f] [R&J-Q2:48.e] [R&J-Q2:48.f]Then Peter, not so much
erst as he was, dismayed;
“My lords,” quoth he, “too true is all
that Friar Laurence said.
And when my master went
into my mistress’ grave,
This letter that I offer you,
unto me then he gave,
2975Which he himself did write,
as I do understand,
And charged me to offer them
unto his father’s hand.”
The opened packet doth
contain in it the same
That erst the skilful friar said;
and eke the wretch’s name
That had at his request
the deadly poison sold,
2980The price of it, and why he bought,
his letters plain have told.
The case unfolded so
and open now it lies,
That they could wish no better proof,
save seeing it with their eyes;
So orderly all things
were told and triéd out,
That in the press there was not one
that stood at all in doubt.
2985224. The Prince’s sentence: the nurse is banished, Peter and the friar are acquitted, the apothecary is sentenced to death. [BAN:158] [BOA:176] [PAI:176] [R&J-Q1:49.f] [R&J-Q2:49.f]The wiser sort, to council
called by Escalus,
Have given advice, and Escalus
sagely decreeth thus:
The nurse of Juliet
is banished in her age,
Because that from the parents she
did hide the marriage,
Which might have wrought much good
had it in time been known,
2990Where now by her concealing it
a mischief great is grown;
And Peter, for he did
obey his master’s hest,
In wonted freedom had good leave
to lead his life in rest,
Th’apothecary high
is hangéd by the throat,
And for the pains he took with him
the hangman had his coat.
2995But now what shall betide
of this grey-bearded sire?
Of Friar Laurence thus arraigned,
that good barefooted friar
Because that many times
he worthily did serve
The commonwealth, and in his life
was never found to swerve,
He was dischargéd quite,
and no mark of defame
3000Did seem to blot or touch at all
the honour of his name.
225. The friar goes into a hermitage near Verona and dies after five years. [BOA:177] [PAI:177]But of himself he went
into an hermitage,
Two miles from Verona town, where he
in prayers passed forth his age;
Till that from earth to heaven
his heavenly sprite did fly,
Five years he lived an hermit and
an hermit did he die.
3005226. The feuding families reconcile. [DP:109] [BAN:159] [BOA:178] [PAI:178] [R&J-Q1:49.c] [R&J-Q2:49.c]The strangeness of the chance,
when triéd was the truth,
The Montagues and Capulets
hath moved so to ruth,
That with their emptied tears
their choler and their rage
Was emptied quite; and they, whose wrath
no wisdom could assuage,
Nor threat’ning of the prince,
ne mind of murders done,
3010At length, so mighty Jove it would,
by pity they are won.
227. The two lovers are placed into the same tomb on a stately marble pillar adorned with many epitaphs on every side. [DP:110] [BAN:158] [BAN:160] [BOA:179] [PAI:179] [R&J-Q1:49.d] [R&J-Q1:49.e] [R&J-Q2:49.d] [R&J-Q2:49.e]And lest that length of time
might from our minds remove
The memory of so perfect, sound,
and so approvéd love,
The bodies dead, removed
from vault where they did die,
In stately tomb, on pillars great
of marble, raise they high.
3015On every side above
were set, and eke beneath,
Great store of cunning epitaphs,
in honour of their death.
And even at this day
the tomb is to be seen;
So that among the monuments
that in Verona been,
There is no monument
more worthy of the sight,
3020Than is the tomb of Juliet
and Romeus her knight.
Imprinted at London in Fleet street within Temple bar, at the sign of the hand and star, by Richard Tottill the xix. day of November. An. do. 1562.