The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 126

by William Shakespeare


  For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,

  High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

  Enter Exton with ⌈his men bearing⌉ the coffin

  EXTON

  Great King, within this coffin I present

  Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies

  The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,

  Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.

  KING HENRY

  Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought

  A deed of slander with thy fatal hand

  Upon my head and all this famous land.

  EXTON

  From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.

  KING HENRY

  They love not poison that do poison need;

  Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead,

  I hate the murderer, love him murdered.

  The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,

  But neither my good word nor princely favour.

  With Cain go wander through the shades of night,

  And never show thy head by day nor light.

  ⌈Exeunt Exton and his men⌉

  Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe

  That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.

  Come mourn with me for what I do lament,

  And put on sullen black incontinent.

  I’ll make a voyage to the Holy Land

  To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.

  March sadly after. Grace my mournings here

  In weeping after this untimely bier.

  Exeunt ⌈With the coffin⌉

  ADDITIONAL PASSAGES

  The following passages of four lines or more appear in the 1597 Quarto but not the Folio; Shakespeare probably deleted them as part of his limited revisions to the text.

  a. . AFTER 1.3.127And for we think the eagle-winged pride

  Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts

  With rival-hating envy set on you

  To wake our peace, which in our country’s cradle

  Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep,

  b. AFTER 1.3.235O, had’t been a stranger, not my child,

  To smooth his fault I should have been more mild.

  A partial slander sought I to avoid,

  And in the sentence my own life destroyed.

  c. AFTER 1.3.256BOLINGBROKE

  Nay, rather every tedious stride I make

  Will but remember what a deal of world

  I wander from the jewels that I love.

  Must I not serve a long apprenticehood

  To foreign passages, and in the end,

  Having my freedom, boast of nothing else

  But that I was a journeyman to grief?

  JOHN OF GAUNT

  All places that the eye of heaven visits

  Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.

  Teach thy necessity to reason thus:

  There is no virtue like necessity.

  Think not the King did banish thee,

  But thou the King. Woe doth the heavier sit

  Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.

  Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour,

  And not the King exiled thee; or suppose

  Devouring pestilence hangs in our air

  And thou art flying to a fresher clime.

  Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it

  To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com’st.

  Suppose the singing birds musicians,

  The grass whereon thou tread’st the presence strewed,

  The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more

  Than a delightful measure or a dance;

  For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite

  The man that mocks at it and sets it light.

  d. AFTER 3.2.28The means that heavens yield must be embraced

  And not neglected; else heaven would,

  And we will not: heaven’s offer we refuse,

  The proffered means of succour and redress.

  e. AFTER 4.1.50ANOTHER LORD

  I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle, And spur thee on with full as many lies As may be hollowed in thy treacherous ear From sun to sun. There is my honour’s pawn. Engage it to the trial if thou darest.

  He throws down his gage

  AUMERLE

  Who sets me else? By heaven, I’ll throw at all. I have a thousand spirits in one breast To answer twenty thousand such as you.

  ROMEO AND JULIET

  ON its first appearance in print, in 1597, Romeo and Juliet was described as ‘An excellent conceited tragedy’ that had ‘been often (with great applause) played publicly’; its popularity is witnessed by the fact that this is a pirated version, put together from actors’ memories as a way of cashing in on its success. A second printing, two years later, offered a greatly superior text apparently printed from Shakespeare’s working papers. Probably he wrote it in 1594 or 1595.

  The story was already well known, in Italian, French, and English. Shakespeare owes most to Arthur Brooke’s long poem The Tragical History of Romeus and Juliet (1562), which had already supplied hints for The Two Gentlemen of Verona; he may also have looked at some of the other versions. In his address ‘To the Reader’, Brooke says that he has seen ‘the same argument lately set forth on stage with more commendation than I can look for’, but no earlier play survives.

  Shakespeare’s Prologue neatly sketches the plot of the two star-crossed lovers born of feuding families whose deaths ‘bury their parents’ strife’; and the formal verse structure of the Prologue—a sonnet—is matched by the carefully patterned layout of the action. At the climax of the first scene, Prince Escalus stills a brawl between representatives of the houses of Montague (Romeo’s family) and Capulet (Juliet’s); at the end of Act 3, Scene 1, he passes judgement on another, more serious brawl, banishing Romeo for killing Juliet’s cousin Tybalt after Tybalt had killed Romeo’s friend and the Prince’s kinsman, Mercutio; and at the end of Act 5, the Prince presides over the reconciliation of Montagues and Capulets. Within this framework of public life Romeo and Juliet act out their brief tragedy: in the first act, they meet and declare their love—in another sonnet; in the second, they arrange to marry in secret; in the third, after Romeo’s banishment, they consummate their marriage and part; in the fourth, Juliet drinks a sleeping draught prepared by Friar Laurence so that she may escape marriage to Paris and, after waking in the family tomb, run off with Romeo; in the fifth, after Romeo, believing her to be dead, has taken poison, she stabs herself to death.

  The play’s structural formality is offset by an astonishing fertility of linguistic invention, showing itself no less in the comic bawdiness of the servants, the Nurse, and (on a more sophisticated level) Mercutio than in the rapt and impassioned poetry of the lovers. Shakespeare’s mastery over a wide range of verbal styles combines with his psychological perceptiveness to create a richer gallery of memorable characters than in any play written up to this time; and his theatrical imagination compresses Brooke’s leisurely narrative into a dramatic masterpiece.

  THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

  CHORUS

  ROMEO

  MONTAGUE, his father

  MONTAGUE’S WIFE

  BENVOLIO, Montague’s nephew

  ABRAHAM, Montague’s servingman

  BALTHASAR, Romeo’s man

  JULIET

  CAPULET, her father

  CAPULET’S WIFE

  TYBALT, her nephew

  His page

  PETRUCCIO

  CAPULET’S COUSIN

  Juliet’s NURSE

  Other SERVINGMEN

  MUSICIANS

  Escalus, PRINCE of Verona

  FRIAR LAURENCE

  FRIAR JOHN

  An APOTHECARY

  CHIEF WATCHMAN

  Other CITIZENS OF THE WATCH

  Masquers, guests, gentlewomen, followers of the Montague and Capulet factions

  The Most
Excellent and Lamentable Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet

  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-crossed lovers take their life,

  Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

  Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.

  The fearful passage of their death-marked love

  And the continuance of their parents’ rage—

  Which but their children’s end, naught 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

  1.1 Enter Samson and Gregory, of the house of Capulet, with swords and bucklers

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

  GREGORY No, for then we should be colliers.

  SAMSON I mean an we be in choler, we’ll draw.

  GREGORY Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar.

  SAMSON I strike quickly, being moved.

  GREGORY But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

  SAMSON 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.

  SAMSON 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.

  SAMSON ’Tis 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.

  SAMSON ’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?

  SAMSON 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.

  SAMSON 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.

  Enter Abraham and another servingman of the Montagues

  Draw thy tool. Here comes of the house of Montagues.

  SAMSON My naked weapon is out. Quarrel, I will back thee.

  GREGORY How—turn thy back and run?

  SAMSON Fear me not.

  GREGORY No, marry—I fear thee!

  SAMSON Let us take the law of our side. Let them begin.

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

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

  ABRAHAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

  SAMSON I do bite my thumb, sir.

  ABRAHAM Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

  SAMSON (to Gregory) Is the law of our side if I say ’Ay’ ?

  GREGORY No.

  SAMSON (to Abraham) No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir.

  GREGORY (to Abraham) Do you quarrel, sir?

  ABRAHAM Quarrel, sir? No, sir.

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

  ABRAHAM No better.

  SAMSON Well, sir.

  Enter Benvolio

  GREGORY Say ‘better’. Here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.

  SAMSON (to Abraham) Yes, better, sir.

  ABRAHAM You lie.

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

  They draw and fight

  BENVOLIO (drawing) Part, fools. Put up your swords. You know not what you do.

  Enter Tybalt

  TYBALT (drawing) 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 ⌈of the watch⌉, with clubs or partisans

  ⌈CITIZENS OF THE WATCH⌉

  Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down!

  Down with the Capulets. Down with the Montagues.

  Enter Capulet in his gown, and his Wife

  CAPULET

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

  CAPULET’S WIFE

  A crutch, a crutch—why call you for a sword?

  Enter Montague ⌈With his sword drawn⌉, and his Wife

  CAPULET

  My sword, I say. Old Montague is come,

  And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

  MONTAGUE

  Thou villain Capulet!

  ⌈His Wife holds him back⌉

  Hold me not, let me go.

  MONTAGUE’S WIFE

  Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

  ⌈The Citizens of the watch attempt to part the factions.⌉

  Enter Prince Escalus with his train

  PRINCE

  Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

  Profaners of this neighbour-stained steet—

  Will they not hear? What ho, you men, you beasts,

  That quench the fire of your pernicious rage

  With purple fountains issuing from your veins:

  On pain of torture, from those bloody hands

  Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground,

  And hear the sentence of your moved Prince.

  ⌈Montague, Capulet, and their followers throw down their weapons]

  Three civil brawls bred of an airy word

  By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,

  Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets

  And made Verona’s ancient citizens

  Cast by their grave-beseeming ornaments

  To wield old partisans in hands as old,

  Cankered with peace, to part your cankered hate.

  If ever you disturb our streets again

  Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

  For this time all the rest depart away.

  You, Capulet, shall go along with me;

  And Montague, come you this afternoon

  To know our farther pleasure in this case

  To old Freetown, our common judgement-place.

  Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

  Exeunt all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio

  MONTAGUE

  Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

  Speak, nephew: were you by when it began?

  BENVOLIO

  Here were the servants of your adversary

  And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.

  I drew to part them. In the instant came

  The fiery Tybalt with his sword prepared,

  Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,

  He swung about his head and cut the winds

  Who, nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn.

  While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,

  Came more and more, and fought on part and part

  Till the Prince came, who parted either part.

  MONTAGUE’S WIFE

  O where is Romeo—saw you him today?

  Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

  BENVOLIO

  Madam, an hour before the worshipped sun

  Peered forth the golden wind
ow of the east,

  A troubled mind drive me to walk abroad,

  Where, underneath the grove of sycamore

  That westward rooteth from this city side,

  So early walking did I see your son.

  Towards him I made, but he was ware of me,

  And stole into the covert of the wood.

  I, measuring his affections by my own—

  Which then most sought where most might not be

  found,

  Being one too many by my weary self—

  Pursued my humour not pursuing his,

  And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.

  MONTAGUE

  Many a morning hath he there been seen,

  With tears augmenting the fresh morning’s dew,

  Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.

  But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

  Should in the farthest east begin to draw

  The shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,

  Away from light steals home my heavy son,

  And private in his chamber pens himself,

  Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

  And makes himself an artificial night.

  Black and portentous must this humour prove,

  Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

  BENVOLIO

  My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

  MONTAGUE

  I neither know it nor can learn of him.

  BENVOLIO

  Have you importuned him by any means?

  MONTAGUE

  Both by myself and many other friends,

  But he, his own affection’s counsellor,

  Is to himself—I will not say how true,

  But to himself so secret and so close,

  So far from sounding and discovery,

  As is the bud bit with an envious worm

  Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air

  Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

  Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow

 

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