The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet
D RA M A
T I S
MONTAGUE, head of a Veronese family; at feud with the Capulets.
LADY MONTAGUE, wife to Montague.
ROMEO, son to Montague.
BENVOLIO, nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.
ABRAM, servant to Montague.
BALTHASAR, servant to Romeo.
FRIAR LAWRENCE, a Franciscan.
FRIAR JOHN, of the same Order. An Apothecary. CHORUS.
Three Musicians. An Officer.
Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen and Attendants.
CAPULET, head of a Veronese family; at feud with the Montagues.
LADY CAPULET, wife to Capulet.
JULIET, daughter to Capulet.
TYBALT, nephew to Lady Capulet.
CAPULET’S COUSIN, an old man. NURSE to Juliet.
PETER, servant to Juliet’s Nurse.
SAMPSON, servant to Capulet.
GREGORY, servant to Capulet. Servants.
ESCALUS, Prince of Verona.
MERCUTIO, kinsman to the Prince, and friend to Romeo.
PARIS, a young Nobleman, kinsman to the Prince. Page to Paris P E R S O N A E
PROLOGUE
SCENE.
During the greater part of the Play in Verona; once, in the Fifth Act, at Mantua.
Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventur’d piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love, And the continuance of their parents’ rage, Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which, if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
ACT V SCENE
III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets.
ROMEO
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
Mercutio’s kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as we rode? I think He told me Paris should have married Juliet. Said he not so? Or did I dream it so?
Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
To think it was so?
O, give me thy hand,
One writ with me in sour misfortune’s book. I’ll bury thee in a triumphant grave. A grave?
O no, a lantern, slaught’red youth,
For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
This vault a feasting presence full of light.
Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr’d.
[Laying Paris in the monument.]
How oft when men are at the point of death
Have they been merry! Which their keepers call
A lightning before death.
O, how may I call this a lightning? O my love, my wife, Death that hath suck’d the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
Thou art not conquer’d. Beauty’s ensign yet is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, and death’s pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what more favour can I do to thee
Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
To sunder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, cousin. Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe
That unsubstantial death is amorous; And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that I still will stay with thee, And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again. Here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace! And, lips, O you
The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
A dateless bargain to engrossing death.
Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark.
Here’s to my love! [ Drinks .] O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I DIE.
PRINCE
Give me the letter, I will look on it.
Where is the County’s Page that rais’d the watch?
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
PAGE
He came with flowers to strew his lady’s grave, And bid me stand aloof, and so I did.
Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb, And by and by my master drew on him, And then I ran away to call the watch.
PRINCE
This letter doth make good the Friar’s words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death. And here he writes that he did buy a poison Of a poor ’pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montague, See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punish’d.
CAPULET
O’ brother Montague, give me thy hand. This is my daughter’s jointure, for no more can I demand.
MONTAGUE
But I can give thee more, for I will raise her statue in pure gold, That whiles Verona by that name is known, There shall no figure at such rate be set As that of true and faithful Juliet.
CAPULET
As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie, Poor sacrifices of our enmity.
PRINCE
A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun for sorrow will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardon’d, and some punished, For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
BY
