In fhape no bigger than an agate ftone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little atomies,
Athwart men's nofes as they lie afleep:
Her waggon-spokes made of long ipinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grafshoppers;
The traces, of the fmalleft fpider's web;
The collars, of the moonshine's wat'ry beams:
Her whip of cricket's bone; the lath of film;
Her waggoner, a fmall grey-coated gnat,
Not halt fo big as a round little worm,
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid :
Her chariot is an empty hazel nut,
Made by the joiner fquirrel, or old grub,
Time out of mind the fairies' coach-makers.
And in this state the gallops night by night,
Thro' lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtfies
straight;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who ftraight dream on fees;
O'er ladies' lips, who ftraight on kiffes dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are.
Sometimes the gallops o'er a lawyer's nose,
And then dreams he of fmelling out a fuit:
And fometimes comes the with a tithe-pig's tail,
Tickling a parfon's nofe as he lies afleep,
And then dieams he of another benefice:
Sometimes the driveth o'er a foldier's neck,
And then he dreams of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambufcadoes, Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in his ear, at which he ftarts and wakes,
And, being thus frighted, fwears a prayer or two,
And fleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horfes in the night,
And bakes the elf-locks in foul Auttish hairs,
Which, once entangled, much misfortune bodes.
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That preffes them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them women of good carriage.
This is the-
Rom. Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace ;
Thou talk'it of nothing.
Mer. True, I talk of dreams: Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain phantafy; Which is as thin of fubftance as the air; And more inconstant than the wind, who woos Ev'n now the frozen bofom of the north, And, being anger'd, puff's away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping fouth.
O, the doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It feems the hangs upon the check of night,
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear:
Beauty too rich for ufe, for earth too dear
So fhews a fhowy dove trooping with crows,
As yonder lady o'er her fellow fhews.
The Courtship between Romeo and Juliet in the
Garden.
Rom. He jefts at cars,that never felt a woundBit,off what light thro' yonder window breaks?
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; cast it offShe 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 fpheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightnefs 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!
ful. Ah me!
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 fall 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 shall 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 finell 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 So ftumbleft on my counfel? in night,
I know not how to tell thee who I am;
My name, dear faint, is hateful to myself,
Because 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
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the found;
Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Rom. Neither, tair faint, if either thee diflike.
TI
Jul.
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 kinsmen 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 blush 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 falfe; 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
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 those that have more cunning to be itrange.
I Thould have been more ftrange, I muft 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 bleffed 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 fhall I fwear 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. It my heart's dear love
ful. Well, do not wear: altho' I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contrac 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!--a sweet repole and reft
Come to thy heart, as that within my break!
Rom. O, wilt thou leave me fo unfatisfe? Jul. What fatisfaction canft thou have night?
Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful von
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst requek And yet I would it were to give again. [it Rom. Wouldft 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! [Nurfe calls within Anon, good nurfe!-Sweet Montague, be true, Stay but a little, I will come again. [Ext.
Rom. O bleffed, bleffed night! I am afeard,
All this is but a dream I hear and fee;
Too flattering sweet to be fubftantial.
Re-enter Juliet above.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good
night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpofe marriage, fend me word to-morrow
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rig
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 and by I come
To ceafe thy fuit, and leave me to my grief To-morrow will I fend.
Rom. Let me ftand here till thou remember it.
Jul. I fhall forget, to have thee ftill ftand there,
Rememb'ring how I love thy company,
Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee ftill forget,
Forgetting any other home but this. [gone:
Jul. 'Tis almoft morning, I would have thee
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prifoner in his twifted gyves,
And with a filk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
Rom. I would I were thy bird.
Jul. Sweet, fo would I;
Yet I fhould kill thee with much cherishing. Good-night, good-night! Parting is fuch Tweet forrow,
That I fhall fay good-night, till it be morrow. Love's Heralds.
Love's heralds fhould be thoughts, Which ten times fafter glide than the fun-beams, Driving back fhadows over lowering hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love, And therefore hath the wind-fwift Cupid wings.
Violent Delights not lafting.
Thefe violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiis, confume.
Lovers light of Foot.
O, fo light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlafting flint Al over may beftride the goflamers, That idle in the wanton fummer air, And yet not fall; fo light is vanity.
A Lover's Impatience.
Gallop apace, you fiery-tooted steeds, ToPhabus' manfion, fuch a waggoner As Phaton would whip you to the weft, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy clefe curtain, love-performing night! That run-aways' eyes may wink, and Romo eap to thele arms, untalk'd of, and unfeen! overs can fee to do their am'ious rites By their own beautics: or, if love be blind, best agrees with night.
Romeo, on bis Banibment. Rom. Ha! banishment ? be merciful,fay death: For exile hath more terror in his look Then death, much more: do not lay banishment. Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished : Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. Rom. There is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Bence banished, is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death; then banishment Is death mifterin'd: calling death barishment, They cutt'ft my head off with a golden axe,. And sm:l'ft upon the ftroke that murders me.
Fri. O deadly fin! O rude unthankfulncis ! Thytault our law calls death; but the kind prince, Taking thy part, hath ruth d afide the law, Arduin'd that black word death to banishment: TD is dear mercy, and thou felt it not.
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 state, 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 fharp 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 speak
a word.
Rem. O, thou wilt fpeak again of banishment 1
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
Adverfity's fweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. Yet banished? hang up philofophy!
Unless philofophy can make a Juliet,
It helps not, it prevails not; talk no more.
Difplant a town, reverfe a prince's doom,
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 banithed,
Then might'ft thou fpeak, 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; a Ladder of Lopes jet.
Jul. Wilt thou begone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That picrc'dt he tearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly the fings on ven pomegranate-tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
No ni htingale: look, love, whit envious fireakə
Do hace the levering clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jucund day
Stads tiptoe on the maty mountain tops ;
I mult be gene and live, or by and die.
J. Yon light is not day-light, I know it; It is Rome metcer that the ip exhales, To be to thee this night a tore And light thee on thy way to A Thereiore fty yet, thou need it not to be gone." Rom. Let me be tale", let me be put to death; I am content, fo thou what have it lo. I lay yon grey is not the morning's eve, 'Tis but the pale reflex of C ̧ milia's blow; Tiz
Nor that is not the lark, whofe notes do beat
The vaulty heaven fo high above our heads.
I have more care to ftay, 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 hut 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 fhould fhe do here?
My difmal scene I needs must act alone.
Come, phial-what if this mixture do not work
Muft I of force be married to the County?
No, no! this fhall forbid it-lie thou there.
[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 dishonour'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
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 ferve for a buried corfe,
And all things change them to the contrary.
Romeo's Defcription of, and Difcourfe with
the Apothecary.
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
In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brow,
Culling of fimples; meagre were his looks,
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
A beggarly account of empty boxes,
Green earthen pots, bladders, and mufty feeds
Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of rules,
Were thinly fcatter'd to make up a show.
And if a man did need a poifon now,
Noting this penury, to myself Ì faid-
Whofe fale is prefent death in Mantua,
Here lives a catiff wretch would sell it him.
O, this fame thought did but fore-run my need
And this fame needy man muft 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?
Rom. Come hither, man-I fee that thet a
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.
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 thefe 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 fp his body
Rom. Art thou fo bare,and full of wretchedne
And fear'ft to die? famine is in thy cheeks
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, confents,
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 ftrage
Rom. There is thy gold; worfe poifon to men
Doing more murders in this loathfome world Than thefe poor compounds that thou mayst not fell:
I fell thee poifon, thou haft fold me none-
Farewel; buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
Par. Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague;
Can vengeance be purfu'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 defp'rate man;
Fly hence and leave me think upon these gone;
Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
Heap not another fin 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.
Par I do defy thy conjurations,
And do attach thee as a felon here.
Rom. Wilt thou provoke me? then have at
thee, boy. [They fight, Paris falls.
Par. O, I am flain! if thou be merciful,
Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Rom. In faith I will:-let me perufe this face, Mercutio's kinfman, noble County Paris : What faid my man, when my betoffed foul Did not attend him as we rode ? I think He told me, Paris should have married Juliet : Said he not fo? or did I dream it so ? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was fo?-O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in four misfortune's book!
Romeo's laft Speech over Juliet in the Vault.
O my love! my wife!
Death, that hath fuck'd the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's enfign yet
Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.-
Tybalt, lieft 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 funder his that was thine enemy?
Forgive me, coufin!-Ah, dear Juliet !
Why art thou yet fo fair? fhall I believe
That unfubftantial death is amorous;
And that the lean, abhorred monster keeps
Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
For fear of that, I will still stay with thee;
And never from this palace of dim night
Depart again; here, here will I remain,
With worms that are thy chambermaids-0,
Will I fet up my everlasting reft; [here
And thake the yoke of inaufpicious ftars [laft!
From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your
Arms, take your laft embrace! and lips, O you
The doors of breath, feal with a righteous kifs
A dateless bargain to engroffing death!-
Come, bitter conduct! come, unfav'ry guide!
Thou defp'rate pilot, now at once run on
The dathing rocks thy fea-fick, weary bark!
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THE painting is almoft the natural man; [ture,
For fince difhonour traffics with man's na-
He is but outfide:, thefe pencil'd figures are
Even fuch as they give out.
The Grace of a Cynic Philofopher.
Immortal gods! I crave no pelf;
I pray for no man but myself:
Grant I may never prove fo fond
To trust man on his oath ́or bond;
Or a harlot, for her weeping;
Or a dog, that seems a-fleeping;
Or a keeper, with my freedom;
Or my friends, if I fhould need 'em.
Amen! Amen! fo fall to 't,
Rich men fin, and I eat root.
A faithful Steward.
So the gods blefs me,
When all our offices have been oppreft [wept With riotous feeders; when our vaults have With drunken fpilth of wine, when every room Hath blaz'd with lights, and bray'd with minI have retir'd me to a wasteful cock, [ftrelly; And fet mine eyes at flow.
The Ingratitude of Timon's Friends. They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot Do what they would; are forry-you are honourable[not
But yet they could have with'd-they know
Something hath been amifs-a noble nature
May catch a wrench-would all were well-'tis
pity-
And, fo, intending other ferious matters,
After diftafteful looks, and thefe hard fractions,
With certain half-caps, and cold moving nods,
They
Tim. You gods reward them!— Pr'ythee, man, look cheerly: these old fellows Have their ingratitude in them hereditary : Their blood is cak'd, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; "Tis lack of kindly warmth, they are not kind; And nature, as it grows again toward earth, Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. Against Duelling.
Your words have took fuch pains, as if they labour'd [relling To bring manflaughter into form, and fet quar Upon the head of valour; which, indeed, Is valour misbegot, and came into the world, When fects and factions were but newly born. He's truly valiant, that can wifely fuffer The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs [carelessly; His outfides; to wear them, like his raiment, Tt3 And
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