Chapter 3

Within the infant rind of this weake flower, Poyson hath residence, and medicine power: For this being smelt, with that part cheares each part, Being tasted stayes all sences with the heart. Two such opposed Kings encampe them still, In man as well as Hearbes, grace and rude will: And where the worser is predominant, Full soone the Canker death eates vp that Plant

Rom. Good morrow Father

Fri. Benedecite. What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young Sonne, it argues a distempered head, So soone to bid goodmorrow to thy bed; Care keepes his watch in euery old mans eye, And where Care lodges, sleepe will neuer lye: But where vnbrused youth with vnstuft braine Doth couch his lims, there, golden sleepe doth raigne; Therefore thy earlinesse doth me assure, Thou art vprous'd with some distemprature; Or if not so, then here I hit it right. Our Romeo hath not beene in bed to night

Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine

Fri. God pardon sin: wast thou with Rosaline? Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly Father? No, I haue forgot that name, and that names woe

Fri. That's my good Son, but wher hast thou bin then? Rom. Ile tell thee ere thou aske it me agen: I haue beene feasting with mine enemie, Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, That's by me wounded: both our remedies Within thy helpe and holy phisicke lies: I beare no hatred, blessed man: for loe My intercession likewise steads my foe

Fri. Be plaine good Son, rest homely in thy drift, Ridling confession, findes but ridling shrift

Rom. Then plainly know my hearts deare Loue is set, On the faire daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combin'd, saue what thou must combine By holy marriage: when and where, and how, We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow: Ile tell thee as we passe, but this I pray, That thou consent to marrie vs to day

Fri. Holy S[aint]. Francis, what a change is heere? Is Rosaline that thou didst Loue so deare So soone forsaken? young mens Loue then lies Not truely in their hearts, but in their eyes. Iesu Maria, what a deale of brine Hath washt thy sallow cheekes for Rosaline? How much salt water throwne away in wast, To season Loue that of it doth not tast. The Sun not yet thy sighes, from heauen cleares, Thy old grones yet ringing in my auncient eares: Lo here vpon thy cheeke the staine doth sit, Of an old teare that is not washt off yet. If ere thou wast thy selfe, and these woes thine, Thou and these woes, were all for Rosaline. And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men

Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for louing Rosaline

Fri. For doting, not for louing pupill mine

Rom. And bad'st me bury Loue

Fri. Not in a graue, To lay one in, another out to haue

Rom. I pray thee chide me not, her I Loue now Doth grace for grace, and Loue for Loue allow: The other did not so

Fri. O she knew well, Thy Loue did read by rote, that could not spell: But come young wauerer, come goe with me, In one respect, Ile thy assistant be: For this alliance may so happy proue, To turne your houshould rancor to pure Loue

Rom. O let vs hence, I stand on sudden hast

Fri. Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.

Exeunt.

Enter Benuolio and Mercutio.

Mer. Where the deule should this Romeo be? came he not home to night? Ben. Not to his Fathers, I spoke with his man

Mer. Why that same pale hard-harted wench, that Rosaline torments him so, that he will sure run mad

Ben. Tibalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a Letter to his Fathers house

Mer. A challenge on my life

Ben. Romeo will answere it

Mer. Any man that can write, may answere a Letter

Ben. Nay, he will answere the Letters Maister how he dares, being dared

Mer. Alas poore Romeo, he is already dead stab'd with a white wenches blacke eye, runne through the eare with a Loue song, the very pinne of his heart, cleft with the blind Bowe-boyes but-shaft, and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? Ben. Why what is Tibalt? Mer. More then Prince of Cats. Oh hee's the Couragious Captaine of Complements: he fights as you sing pricksong, keeps time, distance, and proportion, he rests his minum, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a Dualist, a Dualist: a Gentleman of the very first house of the first and second cause: ah the immortall Passado, the Punto reuerso, the Hay

Ben. The what? Mer. The Pox of such antique lisping affecting phantacies, these new tuners of accent: Iesu a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whore. Why is not this a lamentable thing Grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies: these fashion Mongers, these pardon-mee's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench. O their bones, their bones. Enter Romeo.

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo

Mer. Without his Roe, like a dryed Hering. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his Lady, was a kitchen wench, marrie she had a better Loue to berime her: Dido a dowdie, Cleopatra a Gipsie, Hellen and Hero, hildings and Harlots: Thisbie a gray eie or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, Bon iour, there's a French salutation to your French slop: you gaue vs the counterfait fairely last night

Romeo. Good morrow to you both, what counterfeit did I giue you? Mer. The slip sir, the slip, can you not conceiue? Rom. Pardon Mercutio, my businesse was great, and in such a case as mine, a man may straine curtesie

Mer. That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams

Rom. Meaning to cursie

Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it

Rom. A most curteous exposition

Mer. Nay, I am the very pinck of curtesie

Rom. Pinke for flower

Mer. Right

Rom. Why then is my Pump well flowr'd

Mer. Sure wit, follow me this ieast, now till thou hast worne out thy Pump, that when the single sole of it is worne, the ieast may remaine after the wearing, sole-singular

Rom. O single sol'd ieast, Soly singular for the singlenesse

Mer. Come betweene vs good Benuolio, my wits faints

Rom. Swits and spurs, Swits and spurs, or Ile crie a match

Mer. Nay, if our wits run the Wild-Goose chase, I am done: For thou hast more of the Wild-Goose in one of thy wits, then I am sure I haue in my whole fiue. Was I with you there for the Goose? Rom. Thou wast neuer with mee for any thing, when thou wast not there for the Goose

Mer. I will bite thee by the eare for that iest

Rom. Nay, good Goose bite not

Mer. Thy wit is a very Bitter-sweeting, It is a most sharpe sawce

Rom. And is it not well seru'd into a Sweet-Goose? Mer. Oh here's a wit of Cheuerell, that stretches from an ynch narrow, to an ell broad

Rom. I stretch it out for that word, broad, which added to the Goose, proues thee farre and wide, abroad Goose

Mer. Why is not this better now, then groning for Loue, now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo: now art thou what thou art, by Art as well as by Nature, for this driueling Loue is like a great Naturall, that runs lolling vp and downe to hid his bable in a hole

Ben. Stop there, stop there

Mer. Thou desir'st me to stop in my tale against the haire

Ben. Thou would'st else haue made thy tale large

Mer. O thou art deceiu'd, I would haue made it short, or I was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to occupie the argument no longer. Enter Nurse and her man.

Rom. Here's a goodly geare. A sayle, a sayle

Mer. Two, two: a Shirt and a Smocke

Nur. Peter? Peter. Anon

Nur. My Fan Peter? Mer. Good Peter to hide her face? For her Fans the fairer face? Nur. God ye good morrow Gentlemen

Mer. God ye gooden faire Gentlewoman

Nur. Is it gooden? Mer. 'Tis no lesse I tell you: for the bawdy hand of the Dyall is now vpon the pricke of Noone

Nur. Out vpon you: what a man are you? Rom. One Gentlewoman, That God hath made, himselfe to mar

Nur. By my troth it is said, for himselfe to, mar quatha: Gentlemen, can any of you tel me where I may find the young Romeo? Romeo. I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you haue found him, then he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse

Nur. You say well

Mer. Yea is the worst well, Very well tooke: Ifaith, wisely, wisely

Nur. If you be he sir, I desire some confidence with you? Ben. She will endite him to some Supper

Mer. A baud, a baud, a baud. So ho

Rom. What hast thou found? Mer. No Hare sir, vnlesse a Hare sir in a Lenten pie, that is something stale and hoare ere it be spent. An old Hare hoare, and an old Hare hoare is very good meat in Lent. But a Hare that is hoare is too much for a score, when it hoares ere it be spent, Romeo will you come to your Fathers? Weele to dinner thither

Rom. I will follow you

Mer. Farewell auncient Lady: Farewell Lady, Lady, Lady.

Exit. Mercutio, Benuolio.

Nur. I pray you sir, what sawcie Merchant was this that was so full of his roperie? Rom. A Gentleman Nurse, that loues to heare himselfe talke, and will speake more in a minute, then he will stand to in a Moneth

Nur. And a speake any thing against me, Ile take him downe, z a were lustier then he is, and twentie such Iacks: and if I cannot, Ile finde those that shall: scuruie knaue, I am none of his flurt-gils, I am none of his skaines mates, and thou must stand by too and suffer euery knaue to vse me at his pleasure

Pet. I saw no man vse you at his pleasure: if I had, my weapon should quickly haue beene out, I warrant you, I dare draw assoone as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrell, and the law on my side

Nur. Now afore God, I am so vext, that euery part about me quiuers, skuruy knaue: pray you sir a word: and as I told you, my young Lady bid me enquire you out, what she bid me say, I will keepe to my selfe: but first let me tell ye, if ye should leade her in a fooles paradise, as they say, it were a very grosse kind of behauiour, as they say: for the Gentlewoman is yong: & therefore, if you should deale double with her, truely it were an ill thing to be offered to any Gentlewoman, and very weake dealing

Nur. Nurse commend me to thy Lady and Mistresse, I protest vnto thee

Nur. Good heart, and yfaith I will tell her as much: Lord, Lord she will be a ioyfull woman

Rom. What wilt thou tell her Nurse? thou doest not marke me? Nur. I will tell her sir, that you do protest, which as I take it, is a Gentleman-like offer

Rom. Bid her deuise some meanes to come to shrift this afternoone, And there she shall at Frier Lawrence Cell Be shriu'd and married: here is for thy paines

Nur. No truly sir not a penny

Rom. Go too, I say you shall

Nur. This afternoone sir? well she shall be there

Ro. And stay thou good Nurse behind the Abbey wall, Within this houre my man shall be with thee, And bring thee Cords made like a tackled staire, Which to the high top gallant of my ioy, Must be my conuoy in the secret night. Farewell, be trustie and Ile quite thy paines: Farewell, commend me to thy Mistresse

Nur. Now God in heauen blesse thee: harke you sir, Rom. What saist thou my deare Nurse? Nurse. Is your man secret, did you nere heare say two may keepe counsell putting one away

Ro. Warrant thee my man is true as steele

Nur. Well sir, my Mistresse is the sweetest Lady, Lord, Lord, when 'twas a little prating thing. O there is a Noble man in Towne one Paris, that would faine lay knife aboard: but she good soule had as leeue see a Toade, a very Toade as see him: I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man, but Ile warrant you, when I say so, shee lookes as pale as any clout in the versall world. Doth not Rosemarie and Romeo begin both with a letter? Rom. I Nurse, what of that? Both with an R Nur. A mocker that's the dogs name. R. is for the no, I know it begins with some other letter, and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and Rosemary, that it would do you good to heare it

Rom. Commend me to thy Lady

Nur. I a thousand times. Peter? Pet. Anon

Nur. Before and apace.

Exit Nurse and Peter.

Enter Iuliet.

Iul. The clocke strook nine, when I did send the Nurse, In halfe an houre she promised to returne, Perchance she cannot meete him: that's not so: Oh she is lame, Loues Herauld should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glides then the Sunnes beames, Driuing backe shadowes ouer lowring hils. Therefore do nimble Pinion'd Doues draw Loue, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings: Now is the Sun vpon the highmost hill Of this daies iourney, and from nine till twelue, Is three long houres, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warme youthfull blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball, My words would bandy her to my sweete Loue, And his to me, but old folkes, Many faine as they were dead, Vnwieldie, slow, heauy, and pale as lead. Enter Nurse.

O God she comes, O hony Nurse what newes? Hast thou met with him? send thy man away

Nur. Peter stay at the gate

Iul. Now good sweet Nurse: O Lord, why lookest thou sad? Though newes, be sad, yet tell them merrily. If good thou sham'st the musicke of sweet newes, By playing it to me, with so sower a face

Nur. I am a weary, giue me leaue awhile, Fie how my bones ake, what a iaunt haue I had? Iul. I would thou had'st my bones, and I thy newes: Nay come I pray thee speake, good good Nurse speake

Nur. Iesu what hast? can you not stay a while? Do you not see that I am out of breath? Iul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breth To say to me, that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay, Is longer then the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy newes good or bad? answere to that, Say either, and Ile stay the circumstance: Let me be satisfied, ist good or bad? Nur. Well, you haue made a simple choice, you know not how to chuse a man: Romeo, no not he though his face be better then any mans, yet his legs excels all mens, and for a hand, and a foote, and a body, though they be not to be talkt on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower of curtesie, but Ile warrant him as gentle a Lambe: go thy waies wench, serue God. What haue you din'd at home? Iul. No no: but all this did I know before What saies he of our marriage? what of that? Nur. Lord how my head akes, what a head haue I? It beates as it would fall in twenty peeces. My backe a tother side: o my backe, my backe: Beshrew your heart for sending me about To catch my death with iaunting vp and downe

Iul. Ifaith: I am sorrie that thou art so well. Sweet sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me what saies my Loue? Nur. Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman, And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And I warrant a vertuous: where is your Mother? Iul. Where is my Mother? Why she is within, where should she be? How odly thou repli'st: Your Loue saies like an honest Gentleman: Where is your Mother? Nur. O Gods Lady deare, Are you so hot? marrie come vp I trow, Is this the Poultis for my aking bones? Henceforward do your messages your selfe

Iul. Heere's such a coile, come what saies Romeo? Nur. Haue you got leaue to go to shift to day? Iul. I haue

Nur. Then high you hence to Frier Lawrence Cell, There staies a Husband to make you a wife: Now comes the wanton bloud vp in your cheekes, Thei'le be in Scarlet straight at any newes: Hie you to Church, I must an other way, To fetch a Ladder by the which your Loue Must climde a birds nest Soone when it is darke: I am the drudge, and toile in your delight: But you shall beare the burthen soone at night. Go Ile to dinner, hie you to the Cell

Iul. Hie to high Fortune, honest Nurse, farewell.

Exeunt.

Enter Frier and Romeo.

Fri. So smile the heauens vpon this holy act, That after houres, with sorrow chide vs not

Rom. Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can, It cannot counteruaile the exchange of ioy That one short minute giues me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words. Then Loue-deuouring death do what he dare, It is inough. I may call her mine

Fri. These violent delights haue violent endes, And in their triumph: die like fire and powder; Which as they kisse consume. The sweetest honey Is loathsome in his owne deliciousnesse, And in the taste confoundes the appetite. Therefore Loue moderately, long Loue doth so, Too swift arriues as tardie as too slow. Enter Iuliet.

Here comes the Lady. Oh so light a foot Will nere weare out the euerlasting flint, A Louer may bestride the Gossamours, That ydles in the wanton Summer ayre, And yet not fall, so light is vanitie

Iul. Good euen to my ghostly Confessor

Fri. Romeo shall thanke thee Daughter for vs both

Iul. As much to him, else in his thanks too much

Fri. Ah Iuliet, if the measure of thy ioy Be heapt like mine, and that thy skill be more To blason it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour ayre, and let rich musickes tongue, Vnfold the imagin'd happinesse that both Receiue in either, by this deere encounter

Iul. Conceit more rich in matter then in words, Brags of his substance, not of Ornament: They are but beggers that can count their worth, But my true Loue is growne to such excesse, I cannot sum vp some of halfe my wealth

Fri. Come, come with me, & we will make short worke, For by your leaues, you shall not stay alone, Till holy Church incorporate two in one. Enter Mercutio, Benuolio, and men.

Ben. I pray thee good Mercutio lets retire, The day is hot, the Capulets abroad: And if we meet, we shal not scape a brawle, for now these hot dayes, is the mad blood stirring

Mer. Thou art like one of these fellowes, that when he enters the confines of a Tauerne, claps me his Sword vpon the Table, and sayes, God send me no need of thee: and by the operation of the second cup, drawes him on the Drawer, when indeed there is no need

Ben. Am I like such a Fellow? Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Iacke in thy mood, as any in Italie: and assoone moued to be moodie, and assoone moodie to be mou'd

Ben. And what too? Mer. Nay, and there were two such, we should haue none shortly, for one would kill the other: thou, why thou wilt quarrell with a man that hath a haire more, or a haire lesse in his beard, then thou hast: thou wilt quarrell with a man for cracking Nuts, hauing no other reason, but because thou hast hasell eyes: what eye, but such an eye, would spie out such a quarrell? thy head is full of quarrels, as an egge is full of meat, and yet thy head hath bin beaten as addle as an egge for quarreling: thou hast quarrel'd with a man for coffing in the street, because he hath wakened thy Dog that hath laine asleepe in the Sun. Did'st thou not fall out with a Tailor for wearing his new Doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shooes with old Riband, and yet thou wilt Tutor me from quarrelling? Ben. And I were so apt to quarell as thou art, any man should buy the Fee-simple of my life, for an houre and a quarter

Mer. The Fee-simple? O simple. Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.

Ben. By my head here comes the Capulets

Mer. By my heele I care not

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speake to them. Gentlemen, Good den, a word with one of you

Mer. And but one word with one of vs? couple it with something, make it a word and a blow

Tib. You shall find me apt inough to that sir, and you will giue me occasion

Mercu. Could you not take some occasion without giuing? Tib. Mercutio thou consort'st with Romeo

Mer. Consort? what dost thou make vs Minstrels? & thou make Minstrels of vs, looke to heare nothing but discords: heere's my fiddlesticke, heere's that shall make you daunce. Come consort

Ben. We talke here in the publike haunt of men, Either withdraw vnto some priuate place, Or reason coldly of your greeuances: Or else depart, here all eies gaze on vs

Mer. Mens eyes were made to looke, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no mans pleasure I. Enter Romeo.

Tib. Well peace be with you sir, here comes my man

Mer. But Ile be hang'd sir if he weare your Liuery. Marry go before to field, heele be your follower, Your worship in that sense, may call him man

Tib. Romeo, the loue I beare thee, can affoord No better terme then this: Thou art a Villaine

Rom. Tibalt, the reason that I haue to loue thee, Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting: Villaine am I none; Therefore farewell, I see thou know'st me not

Tib. Boy, this shall not excuse the iniuries That thou hast done me, therefore turne and draw

Rom. I do protest I neuer iniur'd thee, But lou'd thee better then thou can'st deuise: Till thou shalt know the reason of my loue, And so good Capulet, which name I tender As dearely as my owne, be satisfied

Mer. O calme, dishonourable, vile submission: Alla stucatho carries it away. Tybalt, you Rat-catcher, will you walke? Tib. What wouldst thou haue with me? Mer. Good King of Cats, nothing but one of your nine liues, that I meane to make bold withall, and as you shall vse me hereafter dry beate the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your Sword out of his Pilcher by the eares? Make hast, least mine be about your eares ere it be out

Tib. I am for you

Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy Rapier vp

Mer. Come sir, your Passado

Rom. Draw Benuolio, beat downe their weapons: Gentlemen, for shame forbeare this outrage, Tibalt, Mercutio, the Prince expresly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streetes. Hold Tybalt, good Mercutio.

Exit Tybalt.

Mer. I am hurt. A plague a both the Houses, I am sped: Is he gone and hath nothing? Ben. What art thou hurt? Mer. I, I, a scratch, a scratch, marry 'tis inough, Where is my Page? go Villaine fetch a Surgeon

Rom. Courage man, the hurt cannot be much

Mer. No: 'tis not so deepe as a well, nor so wide as a Church doore, but 'tis inough, 'twill serue: aske for me to morrow, and you shall find me a graue man. I am pepper'd I warrant, for this world: a plague a both your houses. What, a Dog, a Rat, a Mouse, a Cat to scratch a man to death: a Braggart, a Rogue, a Villaine, that fights by the booke of Arithmeticke, why the deu'le came you betweene vs? I was hurt vnder your arme

Rom. I thought all for the best

Mer. Helpe me into some house Benuolio, Or I shall faint: a plague a both your houses. They haue made wormesmeat of me, I haue it, and soundly to your Houses. Enter.

Rom. This Gentleman the Princes neere Alie, My very Friend hath got his mortall hurt In my behalfe, my reputation stain'd With Tibalts slaunder, Tybalt that an houre Hath beene my Cozin: O Sweet Iuliet, Thy Beauty hath made me Effeminate, And in my temper softned Valours steele. Enter Benuolio.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, braue Mercutio's is dead, That Gallant spirit hath aspir'd the Cloudes, Which too vntimely here did scorne the earth

Rom. This daies blacke Fate, on mo daies depend, This but begins, the wo others must end. Enter Tybalt.

Ben. Here comes the Furious Tybalt backe againe

Rom. He gon in triumph, and Mercutio slaine? Away to heauen respectiue Lenitie, And fire and Fury, be my conduct now. Now Tybalt take the Villaine backe againe That late thou gau'st me, for Mercutios soule Is but a little way aboue our heads, Staying for thine to keepe him companie: Either thou or I, or both, must goe with him

Tib. Thou wretched Boy that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence

Rom. This shall determine that.

They fight. Tybalt falles.

Ben. Romeo, away be gone: The Citizens are vp, and Tybalt slaine, Stand not amaz'd, the Prince will Doome thee death If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away

Rom. O! I am Fortunes foole

Ben. Why dost thou stay?

Exit Romeo.

Enter Citizens.

Citi. Which way ran he that kild Mercutio? Tibalt that Murtherer, which way ran he? Ben. There lies that Tybalt

Citi. Vp sir go with me: I charge thee in the Princes names obey. Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their Wiues and all.