Part 165

Fill me a bowl of wine. Give me a watch. Saddle white Surrey for the field tomorrow. Look that my staves be sound, and not too heavy. Ratcliffe!

RATCLIFFE. My lord?

KING RICHARD. Saw’st thou the melancholy Lord Northumberland?

RATCLIFFE. Thomas the Earl of Surrey and himself, Much about cockshut time, from troop to troop Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers.

KING RICHARD. So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have. Set it down. Is ink and paper ready?

RATCLIFFE. It is, my lord.

KING RICHARD. Bid my guard watch; leave me. Ratcliffe, about the mid of night come to my tent And help to arm me. Leave me, I say.

[_Exit Ratcliffe. Richard withdraws into his tent; attendant soldiers guard it_.]

Enter Stanley Earl of Derby to Richmond in his tent.

STANLEY. Fortune and victory sit on thy helm!

RICHMOND. All comfort that the dark night can afford Be to thy person, noble father-in-law. Tell me, how fares our loving mother?

STANLEY. I, by attorney, bless thee from thy mother, Who prays continually for Richmond’s good. So much for that. The silent hours steal on, And flaky darkness breaks within the east. In brief, for so the season bids us be, Prepare thy battle early in the morning, And put thy fortune to the arbitrement Of bloody strokes and mortal-staring war. I, as I may—that which I would I cannot— With best advantage will deceive the time, And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms. But on thy side I may not be too forward, Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, Be executed in his father’s sight. Farewell; the leisure and the fearful time Cuts off the ceremonious vows of love And ample interchange of sweet discourse, Which so-long-sundered friends should dwell upon. God give us leisure for these rites of love! Once more, adieu. Be valiant, and speed well.

RICHMOND. Good lords, conduct him to his regiment. I’ll strive with troubled thoughts to take a nap, Lest leaden slumber peise me down tomorrow When I should mount with wings of victory. Once more, good night, kind lords and gentlemen.

[_All but Richmond leave his tent._]

[_Kneels_.] O Thou, whose captain I account myself, Look on my forces with a gracious eye; Put in their hands Thy bruising irons of wrath, That they may crush down with a heavy fall Th’ usurping helmets of our adversaries; Make us Thy ministers of chastisement, That we may praise Thee in the victory. To Thee I do commend my watchful soul Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes. Sleeping and waking, O, defend me still!

[_Sleeps._]

Enter the Ghost of young Prince Edward, son to Harry the Sixth.

GHOST OF EDWARD. [_To King Richard._] Let me sit heavy on thy soul tomorrow. Think how thou stabbed’st me in my prime of youth At Tewksbury; despair therefore, and die! [_To Richmond._] Be cheerful, Richmond, for the wronged souls Of butchered princes fight in thy behalf. King Henry’s issue, Richmond, comforts thee.

[_Exit._]

Enter the Ghost of Henry the Sixth.

GHOST OF HENRY. [_To King Richard._] When I was mortal, my anointed body By thee was punched full of deadly holes. Think on the Tower and me. Despair, and die; Harry the Sixth bids thee despair and die. [_To Richmond._] Virtuous and holy, be thou conqueror. Harry, that prophesied thou shouldst be King, Doth comfort thee in thy sleep. Live, and flourish!

[_Exit._]

Enter the Ghost of Clarence.

GHOST OF CLARENCE. [_To King Richard._] Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow, I, that was washed to death with fulsome wine, Poor Clarence, by thy guile betrayed to death. Tomorrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair, and die! [_To Richmond._] Thou offspring of the house of Lancaster, The wronged heirs of York do pray for thee. Good angels guard thy battle; live, and flourish.

[_Exit._]

Enter the Ghosts of Rivers, Grey and Vaughan.

GHOST OF RIVERS. [_To King Richard._] Let me sit heavy in thy soul tomorrow, Rivers that died at Pomfret. Despair and die!

GHOST OF GREY. [_To King Richard._] Think upon Grey, and let thy soul despair!

GHOST OF VAUGHAN. [_To King Richard._] Think upon Vaughan, and with guilty fear Let fall thy lance. Despair and die!

ALL THREE. [_To Richmond._] Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard’s bosom Will conquer him. Awake, and win the day.

[_Exeunt._]

Enter the Ghost of Hastings.

GHOST OF HASTINGS. [_To King Richard._] Bloody and guilty, guiltily awake, And in a bloody battle end thy days. Think on Lord Hastings. Despair and die! [_To Richmond._] Quiet untroubled soul, awake, awake. Arm, fight, and conquer for fair England’s sake.

[_Exit._]

Enter the Ghosts of the two young Princes.

GHOSTS OF PRINCES. [_To King Richard._] Dream on thy cousins smothered in the Tower. Let us be lead within thy bosom, Richard, And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death; Thy nephews’ souls bid thee despair and die. [_To Richmond._] Sleep, Richmond, sleep in peace, and wake in joy; Good angels guard thee from the boar’s annoy. Live, and beget a happy race of kings; Edward’s unhappy sons do bid thee flourish.

[_Exeunt._]

Enter the Ghost of Lady Anne, his wife.

GHOST OF ANNE. [_To King Richard._] Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife, That never slept a quiet hour with thee, Now fills thy sleep with perturbations. Tomorrow in the battle think on me, And fall thy edgeless sword. Despair and die! [_To Richmond._] Thou quiet soul, sleep thou a quiet sleep; Dream of success and happy victory. Thy adversary’s wife doth pray for thee.

[_Exit._]

Enter the Ghost of Buckingham.

GHOST OF BUCKINGHAM. [_To King Richard._] The first was I that helped thee to the crown; The last was I that felt thy tyranny. O, in the battle think on Buckingham, And die in terror of thy guiltiness. Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death. Fainting, despair; despairing, yield thy breath. [_To Richmond._] I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid, But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismayed. God and good angels fight on Richmond’s side; And Richard fall in height of all his pride.

[_Exit._]

[_King Richard starts up out of his dream._]

KING RICHARD. Give me another horse! Bind up my wounds! Have mercy, Jesu!—Soft! I did but dream. O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! The lights burn blue; it is now dead midnight. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. What do I fear? Myself? There’s none else by. Richard loves Richard, that is, I am I. Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am. Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why, Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself? Alack, I love myself. Wherefore? For any good That I myself have done unto myself? O, no, alas, I rather hate myself For hateful deeds committed by myself. I am a villain. Yet I lie, I am not. Fool, of thyself speak well. Fool, do not flatter. My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale, And every tale condemns me for a villain. Perjury, perjury, in the highest degree; Murder, stern murder, in the direst degree; All several sins, all used in each degree, Throng to the bar, crying all “Guilty, guilty!” I shall despair. There is no creature loves me, And if I die no soul will pity me. And wherefore should they, since that I myself Find in myself no pity to myself? Methought the souls of all that I had murdered Came to my tent, and everyone did threat Tomorrow’s vengeance on the head of Richard.

Enter Ratcliffe.

RATCLIFFE. My lord!

KING RICHARD. Zounds! Who’s there?

RATCLIFFE. Ratcliffe, my lord; ’tis I. The early village cock Hath twice done salutation to the morn; Your friends are up and buckle on their armour.

KING RICHARD. O Ratcliffe, I have dreamed a fearful dream! What think’st thou, will our friends prove all true?

RATCLIFFE. No doubt, my lord.

KING RICHARD. O Ratcliffe, I fear, I fear!

RATCLIFFE. Nay, good my lord, be not afraid of shadows.

KING RICHARD. By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers Armed in proof and led by shallow Richmond. ’Tis not yet near day. Come, go with me. Under our tents I’ll play the eavesdropper, To see if any mean to shrink from me.

[_Exeunt Richard and Ratcliffe._]

Enter the Lords to Richmond in his tent.

LORDS. Good morrow, Richmond.

RICHMOND. Cry mercy, lords and watchful gentlemen, That you have ta’en a tardy sluggard here.

LORDS. How have you slept, my lord?

RICHMOND. The sweetest sleep and fairest-boding dreams That ever entered in a drowsy head Have I since your departure had, my lords. Methought their souls whose bodies Richard murdered Came to my tent and cried on victory. I promise you, my heart is very jocund In the remembrance of so fair a dream. How far into the morning is it, lords?

LORDS. Upon the stroke of four.

RICHMOND. Why, then ’tis time to arm and give direction.

His oration to his soldiers.

More than I have said, loving countrymen, The leisure and enforcement of the time Forbids to dwell upon. Yet remember this: God, and our good cause, fight upon our side; The prayers of holy saints and wronged souls, Like high-reared bulwarks, stand before our faces. Richard except, those whom we fight against Had rather have us win than him they follow. For what is he they follow? Truly, gentlemen, A bloody tyrant and a homicide; One raised in blood, and one in blood established; One that made means to come by what he hath, And slaughtered those that were the means to help him; A base foul stone, made precious by the foil Of England’s chair, where he is falsely set; One that hath ever been God’s enemy. Then, if you fight against God’s enemy, God will, in justice, ward you as his soldiers; If you do sweat to put a tyrant down, You sleep in peace, the tyrant being slain; If you do fight against your country’s foes, Your country’s fat shall pay your pains the hire; If you do fight in safeguard of your wives, Your wives shall welcome home the conquerors; If you do free your children from the sword, Your children’s children quits it in your age. Then, in the name of God and all these rights, Advance your standards, draw your willing swords. For me, the ransom of my bold attempt Shall be this cold corpse on the earth’s cold face; But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt The least of you shall share his part thereof. Sound drums and trumpets boldly and cheerfully! God, and Saint George! Richmond and victory!

[_Exeunt._]

Enter King Richard, Ratcliffe and Soldiers.

KING RICHARD. What said Northumberland as touching Richmond?

RATCLIFFE. That he was never trained up in arms.

KING RICHARD. He said the truth. And what said Surrey then?

RATCLIFFE. He smiled, and said, “The better for our purpose.”

KING RICHARD. He was in the right, and so indeed it is.

[_The clock striketh._]

Tell the clock there. Give me a calendar. Who saw the sun today?

RATCLIFFE. Not I, my lord.

KING RICHARD. Then he disdains to shine, for by the book He should have braved the east an hour ago. A black day will it be to somebody. Ratcliffe!

RATCLIFFE. My lord?

KING RICHARD. The sun will not be seen today! The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would these dewy tears were from the ground. Not shine today? Why, what is that to me More than to Richmond? For the selfsame heaven That frowns on me looks sadly upon him.

Enter Norfolk.

NORFOLK. Arm, arm, my lord. The foe vaunts in the field.

KING RICHARD. Come, bustle, bustle! Caparison my horse. Call up Lord Stanley; bid him bring his power. I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain, And thus my battle shall be ordered: My foreward shall be drawn out all in length, Consisting equally of horse and foot; Our archers shall be placed in the midst. John Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey, Shall have the leading of this foot and horse. They thus directed, we will follow In the main battle, whose puissance on either side Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse. This, and Saint George to boot! What think’st thou, Norfolk?

NORFOLK. A good direction, warlike sovereign.

[_He sheweth him a paper._]

This found I on my tent this morning.

KING RICHARD. [_Reads_.] “Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold. For Dickon thy master is bought and sold.” A thing devised by the enemy. Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge. Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls; Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe. Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law. March on. Join bravely. Let us to it pell-mell, If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.

His oration to his army.

What shall I say more than I have inferred? Remember whom you are to cope withal, A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, A scum of Bretons and base lackey peasants, Whom their o’er-cloyed country vomits forth To desperate adventures and assured destruction. You sleeping safe, they bring to you unrest; You having lands, and blessed with beauteous wives, They would restrain the one, distain the other. And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow, Long kept in Brittany at our mother’s cost? A milksop, one that never in his life Felt so much cold as over-shoes in snow? Let’s whip these stragglers o’er the seas again, Lash hence these overweening rags of France, These famished beggars, weary of their lives, Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit, For want of means, poor rats, had hanged themselves. If we be conquered, let men conquer us, And not these bastard Bretons, whom our fathers Have in their own land beaten, bobbed, and thumped, And in record left them the heirs of shame. Shall these enjoy our lands? Lie with our wives, Ravish our daughters?

[_Drum afar off._]

Hark, I hear their drum. Fight, gentlemen of England! Fight, bold yeomen! Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood! Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!

Enter a Messenger.

What says Lord Stanley? Will he bring his power?

MESSENGER. My lord, he doth deny to come.

KING RICHARD. Off with his son George’s head!

NORFOLK. My lord, the enemy is past the marsh. After the battle let George Stanley die.

KING RICHARD. A thousand hearts are great within my bosom. Advance our standards! Set upon our foes! Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE IV. Another part of the Field

Alarum. Excursions. Enter Norfolk and Soldiers; to him Catesby.

CATESBY. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The King enacts more wonders than a man, Daring an opposite to every danger. His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights, Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death. Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

[_Exeunt Norfolk and Soldiers._]

Alarum. Enter King Richard.

KING RICHARD. A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

CATESBY. Withdraw, my lord; I’ll help you to a horse.

KING RICHARD. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die. I think there be six Richmonds in the field; Five have I slain today instead of him. A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!

[_Exeunt._]

SCENE V. Another part of the Field

Alarum. Enter King Richard and Richmond. They fight. Richard is slain. Then retreat being sounded. Richmond exits, and Richard’s body is carried off. Flourish. Enter Richmond, Stanley Earl of Derby, bearing the crown, with other Lords and Soldiers.

RICHMOND. God and your arms be praised, victorious friends! The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

STANLEY. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee! Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty From the dead temples of this bloody wretch Have I plucked off, to grace thy brows withal. Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

RICHMOND. Great God of heaven, say Amen to all! But tell me, is young George Stanley living?

STANLEY. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town, Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us.

RICHMOND. What men of name are slain on either side?

STANLEY. John, Duke of Norfolk, Walter, Lord Ferrers, Sir Robert Brakenbury, and Sir William Brandon.

RICHMOND. Inter their bodies as becomes their births. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled That in submission will return to us. And then, as we have ta’en the sacrament, We will unite the white rose and the red. Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction, That long have frowned upon their enmity. What traitor hears me and says not Amen? England hath long been mad, and scarred herself: The brother blindly shed the brother’s blood; The father rashly slaughtered his own son; The son, compelled, been butcher to the sire. All this divided York and Lancaster, Divided in their dire division. O, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, The true succeeders of each royal house, By God’s fair ordinance conjoin together, And let their heirs, God, if Thy will be so, Enrich the time to come with smoothed-faced peace, With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days. Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again, And make poor England weep in streams of blood. Let them not live to taste this land’s increase, That would with treason wound this fair land’s peace. Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again. That she may long live here, God say Amen.

[_Exeunt._]

THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET

Contents

THE PROLOGUE.

ACT I Scene I. A public place. Scene II. A Street. Scene III. Room in Capulet’s House. Scene IV. A Street. Scene V. A Hall in Capulet’s House.

ACT II CHORUS. Scene I. An open place adjoining Capulet’s Garden. Scene II. Capulet’s Garden. Scene III. Friar Lawrence’s Cell. Scene IV. A Street. Scene V. Capulet’s Garden. Scene VI. Friar Lawrence’s Cell.

ACT III Scene I. A public Place. Scene II. A Room in Capulet’s House. Scene III. Friar Lawrence’s cell. Scene IV. A Room in Capulet’s House. Scene V. An open Gallery to Juliet’s Chamber, overlooking the Garden.

ACT IV Scene I. Friar Lawrence’s Cell. Scene II. Hall in Capulet’s House. Scene III. Juliet’s Chamber. Scene IV. Hall in Capulet’s House. Scene V. Juliet’s Chamber; Juliet on the bed.

ACT V Scene I. Mantua. A Street. Scene II. Friar Lawrence’s Cell. Scene III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets.

Dramatis Personæ

ESCALUS, Prince of Verona. MERCUTIO, kinsman to the Prince, and friend to Romeo. PARIS, a young Nobleman, kinsman to the Prince. Page to Paris.

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.

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.

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.

SCENE. During the greater part of the Play in Verona; once, in the Fifth Act, at Mantua.

THE PROLOGUE

Enter Chorus.

CHORUS. 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.

[_Exit._]

ACT I

SCENE I. A public place.

Enter Sampson and Gregory armed with swords and bucklers.

SAMPSON. Gregory, on my word, we’ll not carry coals.

GREGORY. No, for then we should be colliers.

SAMPSON. I mean, if we be in choler, we’ll draw.

GREGORY. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.

SAMPSON. I strike quickly, being moved.

GREGORY. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

SAMPSON. A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

GREGORY. To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.

SAMPSON. A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.

GREGORY. That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest goes to the wall.

SAMPSON. True, and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague’s men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

GREGORY. The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

SAMPSON. ’Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men I will be civil with the maids, I will cut off their heads.

GREGORY. The heads of the maids?

SAMPSON. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

GREGORY. They must take it in sense that feel it.

SAMPSON. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and ’tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

GREGORY. ’Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of Montagues.

Enter Abram and Balthasar.

SAMPSON. My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

GREGORY. How? Turn thy back and run?

SAMPSON. Fear me not.

GREGORY. No, marry; I fear thee!

SAMPSON. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

GREGORY. I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list.

SAMPSON. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to them if they bear it.

ABRAM. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON. I do bite my thumb, sir.

ABRAM. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON. Is the law of our side if I say ay?

GREGORY. No.

SAMPSON. No sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.

GREGORY. Do you quarrel, sir?

ABRAM. Quarrel, sir? No, sir.

SAMPSON. But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.

ABRAM. No better.

SAMPSON. Well, sir.

Enter Benvolio.

GREGORY. Say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.

SAMPSON. Yes, better, sir.

ABRAM. You lie.

SAMPSON. Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing blow.

[_They fight._]

BENVOLIO. Part, fools! put up your swords, you know not what you do.

[_Beats down their swords._]

Enter Tybalt.

TYBALT. What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.

BENVOLIO. I do but keep the peace, put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me.

TYBALT. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate the word As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward.

[_They fight._]

Enter three or four Citizens with clubs.

FIRST CITIZEN. Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!

Enter Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet.

CAPULET. What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!

LADY CAPULET. A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?

CAPULET. My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.

MONTAGUE. Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not, let me go.

LADY MONTAGUE. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Enter Prince Escalus, with Attendants.