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Edm. He hath commiffion from thy wife and me
To hang Cordelia in the prifon, and

To lay the blame upon her own despair,
That the fordid herfelf.

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Alb. He knows not what he fays; and vain it is That we prefent us to him.

15 Edg. Very bootless.

Alb. The gods defend her! Bear him hence
awhile.
[Edmund is borne off.
Enter Lear, with Cordelia dead in his arms.
Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!-O, you are 20
men of stones;

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them fo
That heaven's vault should crack:-O, the is gone
for ever!-

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth:-Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath will mift or ftain the ftone,
Why, then the lives.

Kent. Is this the promis'd end?
Edg. Or image of that horror?
Alb. Fall, and ceafe 2!

Lear. This feather ftirs; the lives! if it be fo,
It is a chance that does redeem all forrows
That ever I have felt.

Kent. O my good master!

Lear. Pr'ythee, away.

Enter a Meffenger.

Mef. Edmund is dead, my lord.
Ab. That's but a trifle here.-

You lords, and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay 5 may come,
Shall be apply'd: For us, we will refign,
During the life of this old majesty,

To him our abfolute power :---You, to your rights;
[To Edgar.
25 With boot, and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited.---All friends fhall tafte
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their defervings.---O, fee, fee!

[life.

Lear. And my poor fool is hang'd'! No, no, no
30 Why fhould a dog, a horse, a rat have life, [more,
And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no
Never, never, never, never, never!————
Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, fir.---
Do you fee this? Look on her, look on her lips,

[Kneeling. 35 Look there, look there!

Edg. 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.
Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all!
I might have fav'd her; now the's gone for ever!-
Cordelia, Cordelia, ftay a little. Ha!
What is't thou fay'ft?---Her voice was ever foft,
Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman :---
I kill'd the flave that was a hanging thee.
Gent. 'Tis true, my lords, he did.
Lear. Did I not, fellow?

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[He dies.
Edg. He faints;---My lord, my lord, ---
Kent. Break, heart; I pr'ythee, break!
Edg. Look up, my lord.

[hates him,

Kent. Vex not his ghoft: O, let him pafs! he 40 That would upon the rack of this tough 2 world Stretch him out longer.

[chion 45

I have feen the day, with my good biting faul-
I would have made them skip: I am old now,
And these fame croffes fpoil me.---Who are you?
Mine eyes are none o' the beft:---I'll tell you

ftraight.

Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'd and hated,
One of them we behold.

Lear. This is a dull fight: Are you not Kent?|
Kent. The fame; your fervant Kent:
Where is your fervant Caius ?

Edg. O, he is gone, indeed.

Kent. The wonder is, he hath endur'd fo long: He but ufurp'd his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence.--Our prefent business Is general woe. Friends of my foul, you twain [To Kent and Edgar. Rule in this realm, and the gor'd state sustain. Kent. I have a journey, fir, fhortly to go; 50 My mafter calls, and I must not say, no.

1551

Alb. The weight of this fad time we must obey;
Speak what we feel, not what we ought to fay.
The oldeft hath borne moft: we that are young,
Shall never fee fo much, nor live fo long.
[Exeunt, with a dead march.

1 To fordo fignifies to destroy. 2 Mr. Steevens affixes the following meaning to this exclamation of Albany: "He is looking with attention on the pains employed by Lear to recover his child, and knows to what miferies he must furvive, when he finds them to be ineffectual. Having thefe images prefent to his eyes and imagination, he cries out, Rather fall, and cease to be, at once, than continue in exiflence only to be wretched." 3 Decay for misfortunes. That is, have anticipated their own doom. 5 i. e. to this piece of decay'd royalty, this ruin'd majefty. 6 With advantage, with increase. Steevens remarks, that this is an expreffion of tendernefs for his dead Cordelia, (not his fool, as fome have thought) on whofe lips he is ftill intent, and dies away while he is fearching for life there. Rev. Dr. J. Warton judiciously observes, that the fwelling and heaving of the heart is defcribed by this most expreffive circumstance. 9 i. e, this obdurate, rigid world.

323

7 Mr.

8 The

ROMEO

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} Friends of Romeo.

MERCUTIO,

BENVOLIO,

TYBALT, Kinsman to Capulet.

Friar LAWRENCE, a Franciscan.

An old Man, bis Coufin.

Friar JoHN, of the fame Order.

BALTHASAR, Servant to Romeo.

SAMPSON,
GREGORY,

} Servants to Capulet.

ABRAM, Servant to Montague.
Three Muficians.

PETER.

Lady MONTAGUE, Wife to Montague.

Lady CAPULET, Wife to Capulet.

JULIET, Daughter to Capulet, in love with Romeo.
Nurfe to Juliet.

CHORUS, Page, Boy to Paris, an Officer, an Apothecary.

Citizens of Verona, feveral Men and Women, Relations to both Houfes; Mafkers, Guards, Watch and other

Attendants.

The SCENE, in the beginning of the fiftb A&t, is in Mantua ; during all the rest of the Play, at Verona.

PROL

Two boufbolds, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our fcene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal lcins of thefe tavo foes

A pair of star-croft lovers take their life; Whofe mifadventur'd pitecus overthrows

Do, with their death, bury their parents' firife.

OGU E.

The fearful paffage of their death-mark'd love,
And the continuance of their parents' rage,
Which, but their childrens' end, nought could remove,
Is now the two bours' traffick of our stage;

5 The which if you with patient ears attend,
What bere fhall mifs, our tuil fhall strive to mend.

SCENE L

A STREET.

ACTI,

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Sam. A dog of the houfe of Montague moves me. Greg. To move, is---to ftir; and to be valiant, is---to ftand to it: therefore, if thou art mov'd, thou runn'ft away.

Sam. A dog of that houfe fhall move me to 20ftand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

Greg. That fhews thee a weak flave; for the weakeft goes to the wall.

Sam. True; and therefore women, being the 25 weaker veffels, are ever thruft to the wall :therefore I will pufh Montague's men from the wall, and thruft his maids to the wall.

a Dr. Warburton

The ftoy on which this play is founded, is related as a true one in Girolamo de la Corte's Hiftory of Verona, and was well known to the English poets before the time of Shakspeare, obferves, that this was a phrafe formerly in ufe to fignify the bearing injuries.

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Greg. The quarrel is between our masters, and] us their men.

Sam. 'Tis all one, I will fhew myself a tyrant : when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Greg. The heads of the maids?

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

Greg. They muft take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they fhall feel, while I am able to ftand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Greg. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadft, thou hadst been Poor John.---Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of the Montagues.

Enter Abram and Balthafar.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.

Greg. How turn thy back, and run?

Sam. Fear me not.

Greg. No, marry; I fear thee!

Sam. Let us take the law of our fides; let them begin.

Greg. I will frown, as I pafs by; and let them take it as they lift.

5

10

15

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb 25 at them; which is a difgrace to them, if they bear it. Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, fir?

Sam. I do bite my thumb, fir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, fir?
Sam. Is the law on our fide, if I fay-ay?
Greg. No.

Sam. No, fir, I do not bite my thumb at you, fir; but I bite my thumb, fir.

Greg. Do you quarrel, fir?
Abr. Quarrel, fir? no, fir.

Sam. If you do, fir, I am for you; I ferve as

good a man as you.

Abr. No better.

Sam. Well, fir.

Enter Benvolio.

Greg. Say-better; here comes one of my maf-|

ter's kinfmen.

Sam. Yes, better, fir.

Abr. You lye.

Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

Enter old Capulet, in bis gorn; and Lady Capulet. Cap. What noife is this?-Give me my long (word 2, ho!

La. Cap. A crutch, a crutch!-Why call you for a fword?

Cap. My fword, I say !---old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spight of me.

Enter old Montague, and Lady Montague. Mon. Thou villain, Capulet,Hold me not, let me go.

La. Mon. Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Enter Prince, with Attendants.

Prin. Rebellious fubjects, enemies to peace,
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,---
Will they not hear?---what ho! you men, you
beafts,---

20 That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
With purple fountains iffuing from your veins,---
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
Throw your mif-temper'd3 weapons to the ground,
And hear the fentence of your moved prince.---
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
Have thrice difturb'd the quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Caft by their grave befeeming ornaments,
30 To wield old partizans, in hands as old,
Cankred with peace, to part your cankred hate :
If ever you difturb our ftreets again,
Your lives fhall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this time, all the reft depart away:

40

35 You, Capulet, fhall 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 Prince, Capulet, &c.
Mon. Who fet this ancient quarrel new abroach?→→
Speak, nephew, were you by, when it began?
Ben. Here were the fervants 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 fword prepar'd;
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He fwung about his head, and cut the winds,
Who nothing hurt withal, hifs'd him in fcorn:

Sam. Draw, if you be men.-Gregory, remem-45 ber thy fwafhing blow.

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[They fight.

Ben. Part, focls; put up your swords;

You know not what you do.

Enter Tybalt.

Tyb. What, art thou drawn among thefe heart-50 While we were interchanging thrufts and blows,

lefs hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

Ben. I do but keep the peace; put up thy fword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
La. Mon. O, where is Romeo!---saw you him
to-day?

Tyb. What, drawn, and talk of peace? I hate 55 Right glad I am, he was not at this fray.

the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:

Have at thee, coward.

Enter three or four Citizens, with clubs.

Ben. Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd fun
Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
Where---underneath the grove of fycamour,

Cit. Clubs, bills, and partizans! ftrike! beat 6c That weftward rooteth from the city' fide--

them down!

So early walking did I fee your fon :

To fwash seems to have meant to be a bully, to be noisily valiant. fword used in war, which was fometimes wielded with both hands. weapons used in anger.

2 The long fword was the 3 Mis-temper'd weapons are

Towards

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 bufied when they are moft alone,-
Purfu'd my humour, not pursuing his,-
And gladly fhunn'd who gladly fled from me.

Mon. Many a morning hath he there been seen
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep fighs:
But all fo foon as the all-chearing fun
Should in the furtheft eaft begin to draw
The fhady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy fon,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks fair day-light out,
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous must his humour prove,
Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

5

Feather of lead, bright smoak, cold fire, fick health!
Still-waking fleep, that is not what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Doft thou not laugh?

Ben. No, coz, I rather weep.

Rom. Good heart, at what?

Ben. At thy good heart's oppreffion.
Rom. Why, fuch is love's tranfgreffion.-
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast;
ro Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
With more of thine: this love that thou haft shown,
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
Love is a fmoke rais'd with the fume of fighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lover's eyes;
15 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.
Farewel, my coz.

Ben. Soft, I will go along;

Ber. My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
Man. I neither know it, nor can learn it of him. 20 An if you leave me fo, you do me wrong.

Ben. Have you importun'd him by any means?
Mon. Both by myself, and many other friends:

But he, his own affections' counsellor,

Is to himself-I will not fay, how true

But to himself fo fecret and so close,

So far from founding 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 fame.
Could we but learn from whence his forrows grow,
We would as willingly give cure, as know.

Enter Romeo, at a distance.

Ben. See, where he comes: So please you, step
afide;

I'll know his grievance, or be much deny'd.
Mon. I would, thou wert so happy by thy stay,
To hear true fhrift.-Come, madam, let's away.

Ben. Good morrow, coufin.
Rom. Is the day so young?

Ben. But new ftruck nine.

[Exeunt.

Rem. Ay me! fad hours feem long.
Was that my father that went hence fo faft?
Ben. It was:-What sadness lengthens Romeo's
hours?

25

30

35

[Going.

Rom. Tut, I have loft myself; I am not here;
This is not Romeo, he's fome other where.
Ben. Tell me in sadness I, who she is you love?
Rom. What, fhall I groan, and tell thee?
Ben. Groan? why, no;

But fadly tell me, who.

Rom. Bid a fick man in fadness make his will:-
O word ill urg'd to one that is fo ill!-
In fadnefs, coufin, I do love a woman.

Ben. I aim'd fo near, when I fuppos'd you lov'd.
Rem. A right good marks-man!-And fhe's

fair I love.

Ben. A right fair mark, fair coz, is foonest hit.
Rom. Well, in that hit, you mifs: fhe'll not
be hit

With Cupid's arrow, she hath Dian's wit;
And, in ftrong proof of chastity well arm'd,
From love's weak childish bow the lives unharm'd,
She will not stay the fiege of loving terms,
40 Nor bid the encounter of affailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to faint-feducing gold:
O, fhe is rich in beauty; only poor,
That, when the dies, with beauty dies her ftore 2.
Ben. Then the hath fworn, that she will still
live chatte?
[wafte;
Rem. She hath, and in that sparing makes huge
For beauty, ftarv'd with her severity,
Cuts beauty off from all pofterity.

[them fhort. 45

Rom. Not having that, which, having, makes
Ben. In love?

Rom. Out

Ben. Of love?

Rom. Out of her favour where I am in love. Ben. Alas, that love, fo gentle in his view, Should be fo tyrannous and rough in proof!

She is too fair, too wife; wifely too fair,
50To merit blifs by making me despair :
She hath forfworn to love; and, in that vow,
Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Rom. Alas, that love, whofe view is muffled ftill,
Should, without eyes, fee path-ways to his will!
Where shall we dine?-O me!-What fray was 55
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 created!
O heavy lightnefs! ferious vanity!
Mif-shapen chaos of well-feeming forms!

That is, tell me in seriousness.

Ben. Be rul'd by me, forget to think of her. Rom. O, teach me how I should forget to think. Ben. By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties.

Rom. 'Tis the way

To call hers, exquifite, in question more:
These happy masks 3, that kifs fair ladies' brows,
60 Being black, put us in mind they hide the fair;
He, that is ftrucken blind, cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eye-fight loft

2 Mr. Theobald reads, "With her dies beauty's flore."

the masks worn by female spectators of the play.

3 i. e.

Shew

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