act one:Canterlot. A public place
SCENE I. Canterlot. A public place.
(sampson) (gregory)
Enter BREABURN and BIG MACINTOSH , of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers
BEREABURN
Big Mac, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.
BIG MACINTOSH
No, for then we should be colliers.
BREABURN
I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
BIG MACINTOSH
Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.
BREABURN
I strike quickly, being moved.
BIG MACINTOSH
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
BREABURN
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
BIG MACINTOSH
To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
BREABURN
A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will
take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
BIG MACINTOSH
That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes
to the wall.
BREABURN
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.
BIG MACINTOSH
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
BREABURN
'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I
have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the
maids, and cut off their heads.
BIG MACINTOSH
The heads of the maids?
BREABURN
Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;
take it in what sense thou wilt.
BIG MACINTOSH
They must take it in sense that feel it.
BREABURN
Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
BIG MACINTOSH
'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes
two of the house of the Montagues.
BREABURN
My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
BIG MACINTOSH
How! turn thy back and run?
BREABURN
Fear me not.
BIG MACINTOSH
No, marry; I fear thee!
BREABURN
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
BIG MACINTOSH
I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as
they list.
BREABURN
Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
Enter CARAMEL and COMET TAIL
(ABRAHAM) (BALTHASAR)
CARAMEL
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
BREABURN
I do bite my thumb, sir.
CARAMEL
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
BREABURN
[Aside to BIG MACINTOSH] Is the law of our side, if I say
ay?
BIG MACINTOSH
No.
BREABURN
No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I
bite my thumb, sir.
BIG MACINTOSH
Do you quarrel, sir?
CARAMEL
Quarrel sir! no, sir.
BREABURN
If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
CARAMEL
No better.
BREABURN
Well, sir.
BIG MACINTOSH
Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
BREABURN
Yes, better, sir.
CARAMEL
You lie.
BREABURN
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
They fight
Enter FLIM
(BENVOLIO)
FLIM
Part, fools!
Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
Beats down their swords
Enter FLAM
( TYBALT )
FLAM
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee, Flim, look upon thy death.
FLIM
I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
FLAM
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, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter 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 RARITY
( CAPULET )
CAPULET
What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
LADY RARITY
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 LADY FLUTTERSHY
MONTAGUE
Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go.
LADY FLUTERSHY
Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
Enter PRINCE DUSK SHINE, with Attendants
PRINCE DUSK SHINE
Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--
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 mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd 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,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd 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 further pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY FLUTERSHY, and FLIM
MONTAGUE
Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
FLIM
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 Flam, 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 hiss'd 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.
LADY FLUTTERSHY
O, where is Luna? saw you her to-day?
Right glad I am she was not at this fray.
FLIM
Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
That westward rooteth from the city's 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,
That most are busied when they're most alone,
Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
MONTAGUE
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
Should in the furthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself,
Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
FLIM
My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
MONTAGUE
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
FLIM
Have you importuned him by any means?
MONTAGUE
Both by myself and many other friends:
But he, his own affections' 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.
We would as willingly give cure as know.
Enter LUNA
FLIM
See, where she comes: so please you, step aside;
I'll know her grievance, or be much denied.
MONTAGUE
I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.
Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY FLUTERSHY
FLIM
Good-morrow, cousin.
LUNA
Is the day so young?
FLIM
But new struck nine.
LUNA
Ay me! sad hours seem long.
Was that my father that went hence so fast?
It was. What sadness lengthens Luna's hours?
LUNA
Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
FLIM
In love?
LUNA
Out--
FLIM
Of love?
LUNA
Out of her favour, where I am in love.
FLIM
Alas, that love, so gentle in her view,
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
LUNA
Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
Should, without eyes, see pathways to her will!
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
O any thing, of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
sick health!
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
FLIM
No, coz, I rather weep.
LUNA
Good heart, at what?
FLIM
At thy good heart's oppression.
LUNA
Why, such is love's transgression.
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
FLIM
Soft! I will go along;
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
LUNA
Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
This is not Luna, he's some other where.
FLIM
Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
LUNA
What, shall I groan and tell thee?
FLIM
Groan! why, no.
But sadly tell me who.
LUNA
Bid a sick mare in sadness make her will:
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
BENVOLIO
I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.
LUNA
A right good mark-mare! And she's fair I love.
FLIM
A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
LUNA
Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
FLIM
Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
LUNA
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
For beauty starved with her severity
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
To merit bliss by making me despair:
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
FLIM
Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
LUNA
O, teach me how I should forget to think.
FLIM
By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
Examine other beauties.
LUNA
'Tis the way
To call hers exquisite, in question more:
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows
Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
She that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of her eyesight lost:
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
FLIM
I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
Exeunt