The tyrannous and bloody act is done ;
The moft arch-deed of piteous massacre,
That ever yet this land was guilty of.
Dighton and Forrest, whom I did fuborn
To do this piece of ruthless butchery,
Albeit they were flesh'd villains, bloody dogs,
Melting with tenderness and mild compaffion,
Wept like two children,in their death's sad story.
The filent hours steal on,
"O thus,"quoth Dighton, "lay the gentle babes!" And flaky darkness breaks within the caft. "Thus, thus," quoth Forrest," girdling one ano"Within their alabafter innocent arms; [ther "Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, [other. "Which in their fummer beauty, kifs'd each "A book of prayers on their pillow lay; [mind; "Which once, "quoth Forreft,"almoftchang'd my "But, O the devil:"-there the villain ftopp'd. When Dighton thus told on-" We smothered "The most replenished sweet work of nature, "That, from the prime creation,e'er fhe fram'd." Hence both are gone with confcience and remorfe: They could not fpeak; and fo I left them both To bear thefe tidings to the bloody king.
Come, I have learn'd that fearful commenting
Is leaden fervitor to dull delay;
Delay leads impotent and snail-pac'd beggary:
Then fiery expedition be my wing,
Jove's Mercury, and herald for a king!
Queen Margaret's Exprobration.
I call'd thee then, poor fhadow, painted queen;
One heav'd ahigh to be hurl'd down below:
A mother only mock'd with two fair babes ;
A dream of what thou waft; a garish flag,
To be the aim of ev'ry dang'rous fhot;
A fign of dignity, a breath, a bubble;
A queen in jeft, only to fill the scene. [thers?
Where is thy husband now? where be thy bro-
Where be thy two fons? wherein doft thou joy?
Who fues, and kneels, and fays, God fave the
Where be the bending peers that flatter'd thee?
Where be the thronging troops that follow'd thee?
Decline all this, and fee what now thou art.
For happy wife, a moft diftreffed widow;
For joyful mother, one that wails the name;
For one being fued to, one that humbly fues;
For queen, a very caitiff crown'd with care;
For one that fcorn'd at me, now scorn'd of me;
For one being fear'd of all, now fearing one;
For one commanding all, obey'd of none.
Thus hath the course of justice wheel'd about,
And left thee but a very prey to time:
Having no more but thought of what thou wert,
To torture thee the more, being what thou art.'
His Mother's Character of King Richard.
Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;
Thy fchool-days frightful, defp'rate, wild, and
furious;
[turous;
Thy prime of manhood, daring, bold, and ven-
O thou! whofe captain I account myself,
Look on my forces with a gracious eye;
Put in their hands thy bruifing irons of wrath,
That they may crush down with a heavy fall
Th' ufurping helmets of our adverfaries!
Make us thy ministers of chastisement,
That we may praife thee in thy victory!
To thee I do commend my watchful foul,
Ere I let fall the windows of mine eyes;
Sleeping, and waking, O defend me ftill!
Richard farting out of bis Dream.
Give me another horfe-bind up my wounds:
Have mercy, Jefu !-Soft, I did but dream.
O coward confcience, how doft thou afflict me!
The lights burn blue-is it not dead midnight?
Cold fearful drops ftand on my trembling fleft,
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by.
Confcience.
Confcience is but a word that cowards uf,
Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe.
Richard before the Battle.
A thousand hearts are great within my Advance our standards, fet upon our foes; Our ancient word of courage, fair St. George, Infpire us with the spleen of fiery dragons! Upon them! victory fits on our helms.
Alarum. Enter King Richard. K. Richard. A horfe! a horfe! my kingdom for a horfe!
Cateb. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to
a horse.
K. Richard. Slave, I have fet my life upon
And I will ftand the hazard of the dye: [caft,
I think there be fix Richmonds in the field;
Five have I flain to-day, instead of him.
A horfe! a horfe! my kingdom for a horse!
[Exeunt.
ove is a smoke rais'd with the fume of fighs;
L
Being purg'd, a fire fparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a fea nourish'd with lovers' tears;
What is it elfe? a madness most discreet,
A choaking gall, and a preserving sweet.
On Dreams.
O then, I fee, queen Mab hath been with you.
Thy age confirm'd,proud, subtle,sly,and bloody. She is the fairies' midwife, and the comes In
fhape no bigger than an agate stone the fore-finger of an alderman, rawn with a team of little atomies, thwart men's noses as they lie afleep: er waggon-fpokes made of long fpinners' legs; he cover, of the wings of grasshoppers; Se traces, of the fmalleft fpider's web;
e collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams: Twhip of cricket's bone; the lash of film;
waggoner, a fmall grey-coated gnat, t half fo big as a round little worm, Fick'd from the lazy finger of a maid: r chariot is an empty hazel nut, ade by the joiner fquirrel, or old grub, me out of mind the fairies' coach-makers. d in this ftate fhe gallops night by night, ro' lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; courtiers' knees, that dream on curtfies ftraight;
r lawyers' fingers, who ftraight dream on fees; rladies' lips, who ftraight on kiffes dream, ich oft the angry Mab with blifters plagues, aufe their breaths with fweetmeats tainted are. etimes the gallops o'er a lawyer's nofe, d then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit : d fometimes comes the with a tithe-pig's tail, kling a parfon's nofe as he lies afleep, d then dreams he of another benefice : netimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck, d then he dreams of cutting foreign throats, breaches, ambufcadoes, Spanish blades, healths five fathom deep; and then anon ms in his ear, at which he ftarts and wakes, 1, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two, 1 fleeps again. This is that very Mab it plats the manes of horfes in the night, d bakes the elf-locks in foul Auttish hairs, sich, once entangled, much misfortune bodes. is is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, at preffes them, and learns them first to bear, king them women of good carriage. is is the
om. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace; ou talk'ft of nothing.
ler. True, I talk of dreams:
ich are the children of an idle brain, ot of nothing but vain phantafy; ich is as thin of fubftance as the air; d more inconftant than the wind, who woos 'n now the frozen bofom of the north, d, being anger'd, puff's away from thence, rning his face to the dew-dropping fouth.
It is the caft, and Juliet is the fun!
[Juliet appears above at the Window.
Arife, fair fun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already fick and pale with grief,
That thou her maid art far more fair than fhe.
Be not her maid, fince the is envious;
Her veftal livery is but fick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; caft it off-
She fpeaks, yet the fays nothing; what of that?
Her eye difcourfes, I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me fhe speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having fome bufinefs, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame these
ftars,
As day-light doth a lamp; her eye, in heaven, Would thro' the airy region ftream fo bright, That birds would fing, and think it were not night.
See, how the leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!
Jul. Ah me!
Rom. She fpeaks
O fpeak again, bright angel! for thou art
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
As is a winged meffenger of heaven
Unto the white upturned wond'ring eyes
Of mortals, that tall back to gaze on him,
When he beftrides the lazy-pacing clouds,
And fails upon the bofom of the air.
Jul. O Romeo, Romeo!-wherefore art thou
Romeo?
Deny thy father, and refufe thy name :
Or, if thou wilt not, be but fworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
Rom. Shall I hear more, or fhall I speak at
this?
[Afide.
Jul. 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy→
What's in a name? that which we call a rofe,
By any other name would fmell as fweet :
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes,
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all myself.
Rom. I take thee at thy word:
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
Jul. What man art thou, that, thus befcreen'd in night, So ftumbleft on my counsel?
Rom. By a name
I know not how to tell thee who I am;
My name, dear faint, is hateful to myself,
Beraufe it is an enemy to thee;
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred
words
A Beauty defcribed.
>, the doth teach the torches to burn bright!
feems the hangs upon the cheek of night,
te a rich jewel in an Æthiop's ear:
inty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
fhews a fhowy dove trooping with crows,
yonder lady o'er her fellow fhews.
e Courtship between Romeo and Juliet in the
Garden.
Enter Romeo.
Rom. He jefts at fcars,that never felt a wound-
at,foft! what light thro' yonder window breaks?
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the found; Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Rom. Neither, fair faint, if either thee diflike. TI
Ju..
Jul. How cam'ft thou hither? tell me, and
The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb; And the place death, confidering who thou art, If any of my kinfmen find thee here.
Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch thefe walls;
For ftony limits cannot hold love out:
And what love can do, that dares love attempt;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
Jul. If they do fee thee, they will murder thee. Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their fwords; look thou but And I am proof against their enmity. [fweet, Ju.. I would not for the world they faw thee here.
Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from
And, but thou love me, let them find me here;
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
Jul. By whofe direction found'ft thou out this
place?
[quire;
Rom. By love, that firft did prompt me to in-
He lent me counfel, and I lent him eyes.
I am no pilot; yet wert thou as far
As that vaft fhore wafh'd with the fartheft fea,
I would adventure for fuch merchandize.
Jul. Thou know'ft, the mask of night is on
my face;
Elfe would a maiden blufh bepaint my cheek,
For that which thou hast heard me speak to night.
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; but farewel, compliment!
Doft thou love me? I know thou wilt fay Ay,
And I will take thy word :--yet, if thou fwear'ft,
Thou mayft prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They fay Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou doft love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or, if thou think't I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverfe, and fay thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but elfe not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou mayft think my haviour light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more truc
Than thofe that have more cunning to be strange.
I Thould have been more ftrange, I must confefs,
But that thou overheard'ft, ere I was 'ware,
My true love's paffion: therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath to discovered.
Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow, That tips with filver all thefe fruit-tree topsJul. O fwear not by the moon, th' inconftant
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
Left that thy love prove likewife variable.
Rom. What fall I swear by ?
Jul. Do not fwear at all-
Or, if thou wilt, fwear by thy gracious felf,
Which is the god of my idolary,
And I'll believe thee.
Rom. If my heart's dear love
ful. Well, do not iwear: altho' Ijoy in thee, I have no joy of this contra& to night
It is too rafh, too unadvis'd, too fudden;
Too like the lightning, which doth ccafe to be
Ere one can fay, it lightens-fweet, good night!
This bud of love, by fummer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flow'r when next we meet.
Good-night, good-night!--afweet repofe and reft
Come to thy heart, as that within my breat!
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me fo unfatisfe? Jul. What fatisfaction canft thou have night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vo
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst reque And yet I would it were to give again. [it Rom. Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what
Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the fea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee The more I have, for both are infinite. I hear fome noife within: dear love, adieu! [Nurje calls within Anon, good nurfe!-Sweet Montague, be true, Stay but a little, I will come again. [Exit.
Rom. O bleffed, bleffed night! I am afcard, All this is but a dream I hear and fee; Too flattering fweet to be fubstantial. Re-enter Juliet above.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good
night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, fend me word to-morrow
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform therity
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee, my lord, throughout the work
[Within: Madam!]
I come anon— -But if thou mean'ft not well, I do befeech thee-[Within: Madam!] By ad by I come
To ceafe thy fuit, and leave me to my grief To-morrow will I fend.
Rom. So thrive my foul.
Jul. A thousand times good-night!
Rom. A thousand times the worfe to want thy
light.
Enter Juliet again. Jul. Hift! Romeo! hift! O, for a faulconer's voice,
To lure this tafel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarfe, and may not speak aloud; Elfe would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mite, With repetition of my Romeo's name.
Rom. It is my foul that calls upon my name How filver fweet found lovers' tongues by night, Like fofteft mufic to attending ears! Jul. Romeo!
Rom. Let me ftand here till thou remember it. Jul. I fhall forget, to have thee still stand there, memb'ring how I love thy company, Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee ftill forget, [gone: rgetting any other home but this. ful. 'Tis almoft morning, I would have thee dyet no further than a wanton's bird; o lets it hop a little from her hand, e a poor prifoner in his twifted gyves, 1 with a filk thread plucks it back again, oving-jealous of his liberty.
om. I would I were thy bird.
ul. Sweet, fo would I;
I fhould kill thee with much cherishing.
d-night, good-night! Parting is fuch iweet
forrow,
t I fhall fay good-night, till it be morrow.
[Exit.
Love's Heralds.
ve's heralds should be thoughts,
ch ten times faster glide than the fun-beams,
ng back fhadows over lowering hills:
efore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love,
herefore hath the wind-fwift Cupid wings.
Violent Delights not lafting. efe violent delights have violent ends, in their triumph die; like fire and powder, h, as they kiis, confume.
Lovers light of Foot. O, fo light a foot e'er wear out the everlafting flint : er may beftride the goflamers, idle in the wanton fummer air, et not fall; folight is vanity.
A Lover's Impatience. lop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, ebus' manfion, fuch a waggoner zton would whip you to the west, ring in cloudy night immediately. I thy clofe curtain, love-performing night! un-aways' eyes may wink; and Rom. othefe arms, untalk'd of, and unfeen!. can fee to do their am'rous rites ir own beauties; or, if love be blind, agrees with night.
O
Rom.'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here
Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
And little moufe, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
But Romeo may not. More validity,
More honourable ftate, more courtship lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo: they may feize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And steal immortal blefling from her lips;
But Romeo may not, he is banished ! [knife,
Hadft thou no poifon mix'd, no harp ground
No fudden mean of death, though ne'er fo mean,
But-banished-to kill me; banished?
O friar, the damned ufe that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how haft thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghofily confeffor,
A fin abfolver, and my friend profeft,
To mangle me with that word--banishment ?
Fri. Thou fond madman, hear me but fpeak
a word.
Romeo, on bis Banishment.
. Ha! banishment ? be merciful,fay death:
ile hath more terror in his look
death, much more: do not fay banishment.
Hence from Verona art thou banished:
ent, for the world is broad and wide.
There is no world without Verona walls,
rgatory, torture, hell itself.
banished, is banish'd from the world,
orld's exile is death; then banishment
misterm'd: calling death banishment,
cutt'ft my head off with a golden axe,.
ift upon the ftroke that murders me.
O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulnels!
altour law calls death; but the kind prince,
gthy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
En'd that black word death to banishment:
dear mercy, and thou feeft it not.
Rem. O, thou wilt fpeak again of banishment !
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
Adverfity's fweet milk, philofophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet banished? hang up philofophy!
Unless philofophy can make a Juliet,
Difplant a town, reverfe a prince's doom,
It helps not, it prevails not; talk no more.
Fri. O then I fee that madmen have no ears.
Rom. How fhould they, when that wife men
have no eyes?
Fri. Let me difpute with thee of thy eftate.
Rom. Thou canit not speak of what thou doft
not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like ine banished,
Then might'ft thou speak, then might'ft thou
tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the meature of an unmade grave.
Juliet's Chamber, looking to the Garden. Enter Romeo, and Juliet above at a Window Ladder of opes jet.
i a
Jul. Wilt thou begone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'dt he tearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly the fings on yon pomegranate-tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious ftreaks
Do lace the levering clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops;
I must be gone and live, or fray and die.
Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it;
It is fome meteor that the fun exhales,
To be to thee this night a tord bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mintua :
Therefore ftay yet, thou need it not to be gone.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, fo thou wilt have it fo.
I'll fay yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Tt2
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heaven fo high above our heads.
I have more care to stay, than will to go.
Come death, and welcome! Juliet wills it fo.-
How is't, my foul? let's talk, it is not day.
O bid-me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievifh ways; or bid me lurk
Where ferpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or fhut me nightly in a charnel-boufe; [bones,
O'er cover'd quite with dead men's rattling
With reeky thanks and yellow chaplefs fkulls;
And hide me with a dead man in his fhroud-
Things that to hear them told have made me
And I will do it without fear or doubt, [tremble;
To live an unftain'd wife to my sweet love.
Juliet's Soliloquy on drinking the Potion.
Farewel--God knows when we fhall meet again!
I have a faint cold fear thrills thro' my veins,
That almost freezes up the heat of life:
I'll call them back again to comfort me.~
Nurfe!-what should fhe do here?
My difmal feene I needs must act alone
Upon a rapier's point!-Stay, Tybalt, ftay!
Romeo, I come this do I drink to thee.
[She throws herself on the bed,
Joy and Mirth turned to their Contraries.
All things that we ordained festival,
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our inftruments, to melancholy bells;
Our wedding cheer, to a fad burial feaft;
Our folemn hymns to fullen dirges change:
Our bridal flow'rs serve for a buried corfe,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Romeo's Defcription of, and Difcourfe wich
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's fee for means:- mifchief! thou art swift
To enter in the thoughts of defperate men?
I do remember an apothecary-
And hereabouts he dwells-whom late I noted
Culling of fimples; meagre were his looks,
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brow,
Sharp mifery had worn him to the bones:
And in his needy fhop a tortoife hung,
An alligator ftuft, and other skins
Of ill-fhap'd fishes; and about his shelves
Come, phial-what if this mixture do not work A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Muft I of force be married to the County?
No, no! this fhall forbid it-lie thou there.
Green earthen pots, bladders, and mufty feeds,
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roles,
Were thinly fcatter'd to make up a show.
Noting this penury, to myfelf I faid-
And if a man did need a poifon now,
Whofe fale is prefent death in Mantua,
Here lives a catiff wretch would fell it him.
O, this fame thought did but fore-run my need;
And this fame needy man must fell it me.
As I remember, this fhould be the house:
Being holy-day, the beggar's fhop is shut,
What, ho! apothecary
Enter Apothecary.
Ap. Who calis fo loud?
[Pointing to a dagger.
What if it be a poifon, which the friar
Subtly hath minifter'd, to have me dead;
Left in this marrige he should be difhonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it'is; and yet, methinks it should not,
For he hath still been tried a holy man :
I will not entertain fo bad a thought.-
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, [in,
To whofe foul mouth no healthfome air breathes
And there die ftrangled ere my Romeo_comes?
Or, if I live, is it not very like
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place-
As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
Where, for thefe many hundred years, the bones
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies feft'ring in his fhroud; where, as they fay,
At fome hours in the night fpirits refort-
Alack! alack! is it not like that I
So early waking-what with loathfome fmells;
And fhrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
That living mortals, hearing them, run mad-The world affords no law to make thee rich;
O ifI wake, fhall I not be diftraught,
Invironed with all these hideous fears?
And madly play with my forefathers' joints?
And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
And in this rage, with fome great kinfman's bone,
As with a club, dafh out my defp'rate brains?
O look! methinks I fee my coufin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo that did spin his body
Rom. Come hither, man-I fee that thou
Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
A dram of poifon; fuch foon-fpeeding geer,
As will difperfe itself through all the veins,
That the life-weary taker may fall dead;
And that the trunk may be difcharg'd of breat
As violently, as hafty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Ap. Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantu's
Is death to any he that utters them.
And fear'ft to die? famine is in thy cheeks i
Rom. Art thou fo bare,and full of wretchedne
Need and oppreffion ftarveth in thy eyes;
Upon thy back hangs ragged mifery;
The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law,
Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Ap. My poverty, but not my will, confests,
Rom. I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Ap. Put this in any liquid thing you will,
And drink it off; and, if you had the ftrength
Of twenty men, it would difpatch you ftraig
Rom. There is thy gold; worfe poifon to met
Doing
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