The works of William Shakspere; from the text of the editions by C. Knight. With glossarial notes and facts connected with his life, illustr. by W. Harvey

you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger :-Answer me like men:

When griping griefs the heart doth wound,
And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then music, with her silver sound;

Why, silver-sound? why music with her silver sound! What say you, Simon Catling?"

1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Pet. Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebeck?

2 Mus. I say-silver sound, because musicians sound for silver.

Pet. Pretty too! What say you, James Sound-post! 3 Mus. 'Faith, I know not what to say.

Pet. O, I cry you mercy! you are the singer: 1 will say for you. It is-music with her silver sound. because such fellows as you have seldom gold for sounding :

Then music with her silver sound,
With speedy help doth lend redress.

ACT V.

Rom. If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
And, all this day, an unaccustom'd spirit
Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
I dreamt, my lady came and found me dead;
(Strange dream! that gives a dead man leave to think,)
And breath'd such life with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR.

News from Verona!-How now, Balthasar?
Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
How doth my lady? Is my father well?
How doth my lady Juliet? That I ask again,
For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

Bal. Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
And presently took post to tell it you:
O pardon me for bringing these ill news,
Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

Rom. Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!-
Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,
And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

Bal. I do beseech you, sir, have patience. Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure.

Let's see for means :-0, mischief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,-
And hereabouts he dwells,-which late I noted
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
Of ill-shap'd fishes; and about his shelves
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said-
And if a man did need a poison now,
Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
And this same needy man must sell it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.-
What, ho! apothecary!

Rom. Come hither, man.-I see that thou art poor; Hold, there is forty ducats; let me have

A dram of poison; such soon-speeding geer
As will disperse itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently, as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them.

Rom. Art thou so bare, and full of wretchedness,
And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes,
Contempt and beggary hang upon thy back.
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law
The world affords no law to make thee rich;
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Catling-a lute-string.
Rebeck-the three-stringed violin.

Ap. My poverty, but not my will, consents.
Rom. I pray thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight.

Rom. There is thy gold; worse poison to men's souls,
Doing more murther in this loathsome world,
Than these poor compounds that thou may'st not sell :
I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none.
Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.---
Come, cordial, and not poison; go with me
To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.

SCENE II.-Friar Laurence's Cell.
Enter Friar JOHN.

John. Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter Friar LAURENCE.

[Exeunt.

Lau. This same should be the voice of friar John.--
Welcome from Mantua: What says Romeo?
Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

John. Going to find a bare-foot brother out,
One of our order, to associate me,
Here in this city visiting the sick,

And finding him,-the searchers of the town,
Suspecting that we both were in a house
Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Lau. Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
John. I could not send it,-here it is again,
Nor get a messenger to bring it thee;
So fearful were they of infection.

Lau. Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
The letter was not nice," but full of charge
Of dear import; and the neglecting it
May do much danger: Friar John, go hence;
Get me an iron and bring it straight

Unto my cell.

crow,

John. Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Lau. Now must I to the monument alone;
Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.

She will beshrew me much, that Romeo
Hath had no notice of these accidents;

But I will write again to Mantua,

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come.

What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies, and true-love's rite?
What, with a torch!-muffle me, night, a while. [Retires.
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR with a torch,
mattock, &c.

Rom. Give me that mattock, and the wrenching iron
Hold, take this letter; early in the morning

See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
Give me the light; Upon thy life I charge thee,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
And do not interrupt me in my course.
Why I descend into this bed of death,
Is, partly, to behold my lady's face:

But, chiefly, to take thence from her dead finger
A precious ring; a ring, that I must use
In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone :-
But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry

In what I further shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint,

And strew this hungry church-yard with thy limbs:
The time and my intents are savage-wild;

More fierce, and more inexorable far,

Than empty tigers, or the roaring sea.

Bal. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
Rom. So shalt thou show me friendship.-Take thou

that:

[Retires.

Live and be prosperous; and farewell, good fellow.
Bal. For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout;
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
Rom. Thou détestable maw, thou womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,

[Breaking open the door of the monument.
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Par. This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
That murder'd my love's cousin ;-with which grief,
It is supposed the fair creature died,-

And here is come to do some villainous shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.—[Advances

[Exit. Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague.
Can vengeance be pursu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
Rom. I must, indeed; and therefore came I hither.
Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man,
Fly hence and leave me ;-think
these gone;
upon

Poor living corse, clos'd in a dead man's tomb! [Exit. Let them affright thee.-I beseech thee, youth,

SCENE III.-A Church-yard; in it, a Monument
belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page,bearing flowers and a torch.
Par. Give me thy torch, boy: Hence, and stand aloof;—
Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
Under yon yew-trees lay thee all along,
Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the church-yard tread
(Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves),
But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
Page. I am almost afraid to stand alone
Here in the church-yard; yet I will adventure. [Retires.
Par. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal-bed I strew:
O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones,
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
Or wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans;
The obsequies that I for thee will keep,
Nightly shall be, to strew thy grave and

weep.

[The Boy whistles. The boy gives warning, something doth approach.

Put not another sin upon my head,
By urging me to fury:-O, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone;-live, and hereafter say--
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
Par. I do defy thy commiseration,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.

Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee,

Page. O lord! they fight: I will go call the watch.

boy.

[They fight.

[Exit Page

Par. O, I am slain! [Falls.]-If thou be mercifu,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
[Des

Rom. 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, slaughter'd 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 chamber-maids; 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. [Dies.
Enter at the other end of the church-yard, Friar

I do remember well where I should be,
And there I am:-where is my Romeo? [Noise with n
Fri. I hear some noise.—Lady, come from that nest
Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep;
A greater Power than we can contradict
Hath thwarted our intents; come, come, away:
Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
And Paris too; come, I 'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood of holy nuns :

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
Come, go, good Juliet,-[Noise again.] I dare no
longer stay.

Jul. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.--
What 's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's band!
Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end :-
O churl! drink all; and left no friendly drop,
To help me after?-I will kiss thy lips;
Haply, some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm!

ger!
This is thy sheath;
me die.

[Kisses him

I Watch. [Within.] Lead, boy :-Which way?
Jul. Yea, noise?-then I'll be brief.-O happy dag
[Snatching RoMEO's dagger.
[Stabs herself.] there rust, and let
[Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies.
Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS.
Page. This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
1 Watch. The ground is bloody; Search about the
church-yard:

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find, attach. [Ez. some,
Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain ;-
And Juliet bleeding; warm, and newly dead,
Who here hath lain these two days buried.
Go, tell the prince,-run to the Capulets,-
Raise up the Montagues,-some others search;-
[Exeunt other Watchmen
LAU-We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
But the true ground of all these piteous woes,
We cannot without circumstance descry.

RENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade.
Fri. Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
Have my old feet stumbled at graves!-Who's there?
Bal. Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you
well.

Fri. Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
What torch is yond', that vainly lends his light
To grubs and eyeless skulls; as I discern,
It burneth in the Capels' monument.

Bal. It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
One that you love.

Enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR. 2 Watch. Here's Romeo's man, we found him in the church-yard.

I Watch. Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.

Enter another Watchman, with Friar LAURENCE3 Watch. Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs, ar

weeps:

We took this mattock and this spade from him,
As he was coming from this church-yard side.
1 Watch. A great suspicion; Stay the friar too.
Enter the PRINCE and Attendants.
Prince. What misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others.
Cap. What should it be, that they so shriek abroad!
La. Cap. The people in the streets cry-Romeo,
Some-Juliet, and some-Paris; and all run,
With open outcry, toward our monument.

Prince. What fear is this, which startles in your ears!
1 Watch. Sovereign, here lies the county Paris slain,
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.

Prince. Search, seek, and know how this foul murde.

comes.

1 Watch. Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open

These dead men's tombs.

Cap. O, heaven!-O, wife! look how our daughter bleeds!

This dagger hath mista'en,-for, lo! his house

Is empty on the back of Montague,^-
And is mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom.
La. Cap. O me! this sight of death is as a beli,
That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others.

Prince. Come, Montague; for thou art early up,
To see thy son and heir now early down.

Mon. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:
What further woe conspires against my age?
Prince. Look, and thou shalt see.

Mon. O thou untaught! what manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave?

Prince. Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities,

And know their spring, their head, their true descent;
And then will I be general of your woes,

And lead you even to death: Meantime forbear
And let mischance be slave to patience.—
Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

Fri. I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet most suspected, as the time and place
Doth make against me, of this direful murder;
And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
Myself condemned and myself excus'd."

Prince. Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
Fri. I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet,
And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
I married them; and their stolen marriage-day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely death
Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
To county Paris:-Then comes she to me;

And, with wild looks, bid me devise some means
To rid her from this second marriage,

Or, in my cell there would she kill herself.
Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
A sleeping potion; which so took effect

As I intended, for it wrought on her

The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
That he should hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
being the time the potion's force should cease.
But he which bore my letter, friar John,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back: Then all alone,
At the prefixed hour of her waking,

Came I to take her from her kindred's vault,
Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,

The dagger was worn at the back.

Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
But when I came (some minute ere the time
Of her awaking), here untimely lay

The noble Paris, and true Romeo, dead.
She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
And bear this work of heaven with patience.
But then a noise did scare me from the tomb,
And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
But (as it seems) did violence on herself.
All this I know; and to the marriage
Her nurse is privy: And, if aught in this
Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
Be sacrific'd, some hour before the time,
Unto the rigour of severest law.

Prince. We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say to this? Bal. I brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua, To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he early bid me give his father: And threaten'd me with death, going in the vault, If I departed not, and left him there.

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 nate, 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. Cap. O, brother Montague, give me thy hand. This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand.

Mon.

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 that rate be set,
As that of true and faithful Juliet,

Cap. As rich shall Romeo by his lady 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.

[Exeunt

« Предишна Напред »

Книги

The works of William Shakspere; from the text of the editions by C. Knight ...