Reading Help THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
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` Scene IV. `
` A street. `
` `
` Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers; `
` Torchbearers. `
` `
` Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? `
` Or shall we on without apology? `
` Ben. The date is out of such prolixity. `
` We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, `
` Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, `
` Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper; `
` Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke `
` After the prompter, for our entrance; `
` But, let them measure us by what they will, `
` We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. `
` Rom. Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. `
` Being but heavy, I will bear the light. `
` Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. `
` Rom. Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes `
` With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead `
` So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. `
` Mer. You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings `
` And soar with them above a common bound. `
` Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft `
` To soar with his light feathers; and so bound `
` I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe. `
` Under love's heavy burthen do I sink. `
` Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love- `
` Too great oppression for a tender thing. `
` Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, `
` Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn. `
` Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love. `
` Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. `
` Give me a case to put my visage in. `
` A visor for a visor! What care I `
` What curious eye doth quote deformities? `
` Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. `
` Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in `
` But every man betake him to his legs. `
` Rom. A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart `
` Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; `
` For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, `
` I'll be a candle-holder and look on; `
` The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. `
` Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word! `
` If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire `
` Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st `
` Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! `
` Rom. Nay, that's not so. `
` Mer. I mean, sir, in delay `
` We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. `
` Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits `
` Five times in that ere once in our five wits. `
` Rom. And we mean well, in going to this masque; `
` But 'tis no wit to go. `
` Mer. Why, may one ask? `
` Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. `
` Mer. And so did I. `
` Rom. Well, what was yours? `
` Mer. That dreamers often lie. `
` Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. `
` Mer. O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. `
` She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes `
` In shape no bigger than an agate stone `
` On the forefinger of an alderman, `
` Drawn with a team of little atomies `
` Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; `
` Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs, `
` The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; `
` Her traces, of the smallest spider's web; `
` Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams; `
` Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film; `
` Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat, `
` Not half so big as a round little worm `
` Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; `
` Her chariot is an empty hazelnut, `
` Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, `
` Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. `
` And in this state she 'gallops night by night `
` Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; `
` O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight; `
` O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; `
` O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, `
` Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, `
` Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. `
` Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, `
` And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; `
` And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail `
` Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, `
` Then dreams he of another benefice. `
` Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, `
` And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, `
` Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, `
` Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon `
` Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, `
` And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two `
` And sleeps again. This is that very Mab `
` That plats the manes of horses in the night `
` And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish, hairs, `
` Which once untangled much misfortune bodes `
` This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, `
` That presses them and learns them first to bear, `
` Making them women of good carriage. `
` This is she- `
` Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! `
` Thou talk'st of nothing. `
` Mer. True, I talk of dreams; `
` Which are the children of an idle brain, `
` Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; `
` Which is as thin of substance as the air, `
` And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes `
` Even now the frozen bosom of the North `
` And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, `
` Turning his face to the dew-dropping South. `
` Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves. `
` Supper is done, and we shall come too late. `
` Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives `
` Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, `
` Shall bitterly begin his fearful date `
` With this night's revels and expire the term `
` Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, `
` By some vile forfeit of untimely death. `
` But he that hath the steerage of my course `
` Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen! `
` Ben. Strike, drum. `
` They march about the stage. [Exeunt.] `
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` Scene V. `
` Capulet's house. `
` `
` Servingmen come forth with napkins. `
` `
` 1. Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? `
` He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! `
` 2. Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's `
` hands, `
` and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. `
` 1. Serv. Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cubbert, `
` look `
` to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane and, as `
` thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and `
` Nell. `
` Anthony, and Potpan! `
` 2. Serv. Ay, boy, ready. `
` 1. Serv. You are look'd for and call'd for, ask'd for and `
` sought `
` for, in the great chamber. `
` 3. Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys! `
` Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Exeunt. `
` `
` Enter the Maskers, Enter, [with Servants,] Capulet, his Wife, `
` Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests `
` and Gentlewomen to the Maskers. `
` `
` Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes `
` Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you. `
` Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all `
` Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, `
` She I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now? `
` Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day `
` That I have worn a visor and could tell `
` A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, `
` Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone! `
` You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play. `
` A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. `
` Music plays, and they dance. `
` More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up, `
` And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. `
` Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. `
` Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet, `
` For you and I are past our dancing days. `
` How long is't now since last yourself and I `
` Were in a mask? `
` 2. Cap. By'r Lady, thirty years. `
` Cap. What, man? 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much! `
` 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, `
` Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, `
` Some five-and-twenty years, and then we mask'd. `
` 2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir; `
` His son is thirty. `
` Cap. Will you tell me that? `
` His son was but a ward two years ago. `
` Rom. [to a Servingman] What lady's that, which doth enrich the `
` hand `
` Of yonder knight? `
` Serv. I know not, sir. `
` Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! `
` It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night `
` Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear- `
` Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! `
` So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows `
` As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. `
` The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand `
`
` `
` `
` `
` Scene IV. `
` A street. `
` `
` Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other Maskers; `
` Torchbearers. `
` `
` Rom. What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? `
` Or shall we on without apology? `
` Ben. The date is out of such prolixity. `
` We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, `
` Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, `
` Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper; `
` Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke `
` After the prompter, for our entrance; `
` But, let them measure us by what they will, `
` We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. `
` Rom. Give me a torch. I am not for this ambling. `
` Being but heavy, I will bear the light. `
` Mer. Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. `
` Rom. Not I, believe me. You have dancing shoes `
` With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead `
` So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. `
` Mer. You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings `
` And soar with them above a common bound. `
` Rom. I am too sore enpierced with his shaft `
` To soar with his light feathers; and so bound `
` I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe. `
` Under love's heavy burthen do I sink. `
` Mer. And, to sink in it, should you burthen love- `
` Too great oppression for a tender thing. `
` Rom. Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, `
` Too rude, too boist'rous, and it pricks like thorn. `
` Mer. If love be rough with you, be rough with love. `
` Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. `
` Give me a case to put my visage in. `
` A visor for a visor! What care I `
` What curious eye doth quote deformities? `
` Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. `
` Ben. Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in `
` But every man betake him to his legs. `
` Rom. A torch for me! Let wantons light of heart `
` Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels; `
` For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase, `
` I'll be a candle-holder and look on; `
` The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. `
` Mer. Tut! dun's the mouse, the constable's own word! `
` If thou art Dun, we'll draw thee from the mire `
` Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st `
` Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! `
` Rom. Nay, that's not so. `
` Mer. I mean, sir, in delay `
` We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. `
` Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits `
` Five times in that ere once in our five wits. `
` Rom. And we mean well, in going to this masque; `
` But 'tis no wit to go. `
` Mer. Why, may one ask? `
` Rom. I dreamt a dream to-night. `
` Mer. And so did I. `
` Rom. Well, what was yours? `
` Mer. That dreamers often lie. `
` Rom. In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. `
` Mer. O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you. `
` She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes `
` In shape no bigger than an agate stone `
` On the forefinger of an alderman, `
` Drawn with a team of little atomies `
` Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; `
` Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs, `
` The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; `
` Her traces, of the smallest spider's web; `
` Her collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams; `
` Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film; `
` Her wagoner, a small grey-coated gnat, `
` Not half so big as a round little worm `
` Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; `
` Her chariot is an empty hazelnut, `
` Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, `
` Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. `
` And in this state she 'gallops night by night `
` Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; `
` O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on cursies straight; `
` O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees; `
` O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream, `
` Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, `
` Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. `
` Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, `
` And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; `
` And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail `
` Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep, `
` Then dreams he of another benefice. `
` Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, `
` And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, `
` Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, `
` Of healths five fadom deep; and then anon `
` Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, `
` And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two `
` And sleeps again. This is that very Mab `
` That plats the manes of horses in the night `
` And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish, hairs, `
` Which once untangled much misfortune bodes `
` This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, `
` That presses them and learns them first to bear, `
` Making them women of good carriage. `
` This is she- `
` Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! `
` Thou talk'st of nothing. `
` Mer. True, I talk of dreams; `
` Which are the children of an idle brain, `
` Begot of nothing but vain fantasy; `
` Which is as thin of substance as the air, `
` And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes `
` Even now the frozen bosom of the North `
` And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, `
` Turning his face to the dew-dropping South. `
` Ben. This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves. `
` Supper is done, and we shall come too late. `
` Rom. I fear, too early; for my mind misgives `
` Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, `
` Shall bitterly begin his fearful date `
` With this night's revels and expire the term `
` Of a despised life, clos'd in my breast, `
` By some vile forfeit of untimely death. `
` But he that hath the steerage of my course `
` Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen! `
` Ben. Strike, drum. `
` They march about the stage. [Exeunt.] `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` Scene V. `
` Capulet's house. `
` `
` Servingmen come forth with napkins. `
` `
` 1. Serv. Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? `
` He shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher! `
` 2. Serv. When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's `
` hands, `
` and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul thing. `
` 1. Serv. Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cubbert, `
` look `
` to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane and, as `
` thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and `
` Nell. `
` Anthony, and Potpan! `
` 2. Serv. Ay, boy, ready. `
` 1. Serv. You are look'd for and call'd for, ask'd for and `
` sought `
` for, in the great chamber. `
` 3. Serv. We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys! `
` Be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Exeunt. `
` `
` Enter the Maskers, Enter, [with Servants,] Capulet, his Wife, `
` Juliet, Tybalt, and all the Guests `
` and Gentlewomen to the Maskers. `
` `
` Cap. Welcome, gentlemen! Ladies that have their toes `
` Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you. `
` Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all `
` Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty, `
` She I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now? `
` Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day `
` That I have worn a visor and could tell `
` A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, `
` Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone! `
` You are welcome, gentlemen! Come, musicians, play. `
` A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. `
` Music plays, and they dance. `
` More light, you knaves! and turn the tables up, `
` And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. `
` Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. `
` Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet, `
` For you and I are past our dancing days. `
` How long is't now since last yourself and I `
` Were in a mask? `
` 2. Cap. By'r Lady, thirty years. `
` Cap. What, man? 'Tis not so much, 'tis not so much! `
` 'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio, `
` Come Pentecost as quickly as it will, `
` Some five-and-twenty years, and then we mask'd. `
` 2. Cap. 'Tis more, 'tis more! His son is elder, sir; `
` His son is thirty. `
` Cap. Will you tell me that? `
` His son was but a ward two years ago. `
` Rom. [to a Servingman] What lady's that, which doth enrich the `
` hand `
` Of yonder knight? `
` Serv. I know not, sir. `
` Rom. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! `
` It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night `
` Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear- `
` Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! `
` So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows `
` As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. `
` The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand `
`