Benvolio.
Ye dirty dogs! your bludgeons lay aside,
Or your four carcases I'll soundly hide. Enter Tibalt.

Tibalt.
What! art for fighting? knuckle down and pray;
For I will make a corpse of thee this day.

Benvolio.
I do but keep the peace; put by thy stick:
Else with one blow I'll send thee to old Nick.

Tibalt.
Why 'tis a downright bull of peace to prate,
Armed as thou art, so here's have at thy pate;
And, by the living jingo, it shall go hard
If I don't prove thee a most arrant coward. (They fight with their sticks.)

(Voices within.)
—Down with the Capulets! down Montagues!
We'll fight it out for any thing you choose. (A scuffle within.) Enter Capulet in his night-cap, and Lady Capulet in her bed-gown.

Capulet.
What's all this bother? give me my great horse-pistol.

Lady Capulet.
Pshaw! the last marks you fired at, you missed all.

Capulet.
Run for't you jade; Montague's at my back,
And at his noddle I will have a crack. Enter Montague.

Montague.
Thou villain Capulet! thou'st greatly swaggered,
For which I'll knock thee down—

Lady.
What you! you blackguard! Enter Prince, City-Serjeants, and Constables.

Prince.
Ye frantic scoundrels and rebellious dogs!
More fierce than wolves, less mannerly than hogs,
That ne'er a stone perceive, but straight you shy it
At one another's heads, I say be quiet.
No longer vent your fiery rage like rockets,
But put your hands into your breeches pockets,
Or you shall grace the stocks: three times already
Your wrath to box in public streets has led ye;
But know, sirs, if you ever do't again,
You shall be tarr'd and feather'd for your pain:
Off, off, rude citizens; and as for you
Old sinners, Capulet and Montague,
The former instantly with me shall trudge,
And I between the two will act as judge;
The streets with noise and bustle you have fill'd all,
So Montague, attend me at the Guildhall
At noon. (To the Citizens.)
—Why zounds! d'ye take me for a blind post?
Begone! and may the Devil take the hindmost. [Exit Prince. Manent Montague and Benvolio.

Montague.
Now tell your loving uncle, I intreat,
How all this row was kick'd up in the street.

Benvolio.
Two servants of old Capulet, and two,
Who by their livery should belong to you,
Were fighting near this spot, as I past by;
I tried to part them, as no watch was nigh;
But scarcely had I pull'd the rogues asunder,
When round a corner popped that son of thunder,
The fiery Tibalt, who, I don't know why, chose
To favour me with sundry kicks and dry blows;
Thinking all this deserved some gratitude,
I put myself in fighting attitude,
And made my mind up Tibalt not to let off,
Till on his body I had paid my debt off;
So straight I tipped him a most wilful hit,
Which laid him sprawling.

Montague.
Well then, both were quit.

Benvolio.
That's true; nor was I anxious for more fighting,
As 'tis a pastime I have no delight in,
But then the mob came, on each side dividing,
And all at once began each other hiding.
At length the Prince in person stopp'd the riot,
And in a set speech told us to be quiet.

Montague.
Where's Romeo? Have you seen the lad to day?
If there, he would have shown some famous play
In boxing, still I'm glad he 'scaped the fray.

Benvolio.
This morn, before the sun began to shine,
It chanced, a herd of grunting noisy swine,
Beneath my window wandering, broke my rest,
So out of bed I jump'd, and quickly dressed:

Then scamper'd off, whistling an ancient ditty,
To yonder rookery, westward of the city.—
Well! there I saw your son, who seem'd besotted;
For when he spied me coming, off he trotted.—
No doubt, being drunk, he didn't like to shew it,
And sneak'd away for fear that I should know it.—

Montague.
These many mornings I have mark'd him there,
Gnashing his teeth, and pulling off his hair;
This wimpering humour something ill bespeaks,
But I'd advise him to give o'er those freaks;
Drunk early in the morning! that's too bad.

Benvolio.
I've no doubt he was either drunk or mad.
If he were sober, uncle, know you why
He played so strange a part?

Montague.
Egad, not I.

Benvolio.
Mercutio and myself are friends of his,
And I don't think he'd take it much amiss,
Were we to ask him why he thus behaves,
And struts about alone, and rants and raves,
Looking for all the world—(hesitating.)

Montague.
Come man, don't falter—

Benvolio.
Just like a thief about to grace a halter.

At all events we'll try to scent him out,
And coax him to confess what he's about.

Montague.
Thou prov'st a friend in this provoking matter.

Benvolio.
Pooh! Uncle, spare my blushes, and don't flatter. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Rookery. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

Mercutio.
Pray, mark him Ben, behold this mournful Cupid;

Benvolio.
How wild the fellow looks!

Mercutio.
Quite wild and stupid;
Didn't I tell you that we here should find him.
He seems in churlish mood, but never mind him. Enter Romeo.

Benvolio.
Good day, my lad.

Romeo.
Ah! Cousin Ben, good-morrow.

Mercutio.
My friend, what fills thy youthful phiz with sorrow?

Romeo.
A certain inward pain, past all belief.

Benvolio.
'Tis love, perhaps; would I could give relief!
Alas! that love which always ought to please us,
Instead of this, so oft should vex and teaze us!

Romeo.
Where shall we take our chop to-day?—but coz,
What caused this morning such a mighty buz?
Yet I'm a fool to ask, for I've been told;
Though hate seems hot as pepper, love's not cold;
And love compels me a long phiz to put on,
For one for whom I should not care a button.

Mercutio.
Who is she?

Romeo.
Who? a woman.

Mercutio.
Come no joking:
I never knew a fellow so provoking.
A woman! that's a thing of course you churl.

Benvolio.
That I deny; she might have been a girl.

Romeo.
She's both, for though but seventeen last grass,
You never yet saw a more strapping lass;

The best wove paper in the town can't vie
With her complexion, Ben—and then her eye!—
It set me in a blaze before she wink'd:
But ah! she knows not love my soul has pink'd;
And if she knew't, the cruel maid, mayhap,
Would ridicule me for an idle chap:
Chance gave the wound, and time will heal it never;
Alas! Mercutio; I am dished for ever:
To each sad night a dismal morning follows,
And still 'tis holloing groans and groaning hollos.

Mercutio.
Nonsense! for shame man, don't on her be thinking.

Romeo.
I must and shall, unless I take to drinking.

Mercutio.
Then drink, my jolly boy! 'till all looks blue,
And change thy present love for one that's new;
If thou wilt blow thy jacket out to-night
At Capulet's, she'll be forgotten quite:
So come with me.

Romeo.
What, sup with Capulet?

Mercutio.
Aye with old Cap.—why seem you in a sweat?
Go there and see the pretty little lasses;
There's many a she, who your she far surpasses:
I'll give you leave to load me with abuse,
If I don't make you think your swan a goose.

Romeo.
Well, well, I'll go.

Benvolio.
That's right; may pleasure haunt you!

Romeo.
I've changed my mind, and will not go.—

Mercutio.
Why won't you?

Romeo.
I dreamed last night that—

Mercutio.
Nonsense! hold your gab!
Dreams are mere humbugs of the old Queen Mab,
The fairy witch; but don't mind her a fig;
So come with me, and let us dance a jig. (Dances about.)

Romeo.
Lead on then, friends; if you will make me trot
To Capulet's, whether I will or not. [Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.
Whatever hence betides me, I'll be bolder,
And if I see my sweetheart fast I'll hold her;
Nor will I let her go, 'till I declare
How much I doat on one so fat and fair:
For I'll no longer bear this amorous flutter
Without once daring my fierce love to utter.
What if she cry and run to tell her mother;
'Twere best to know my doom one way or t'other. [Exit.

SCENE III. Capulet's House. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse.

Lady.
Where's Juliet?

Nurse.
How should I know?

Lady.
Go and see.

Nurse.
Miss Juliet, ho! Miss Juliet! [Exit Nurse. Enter Juliet.

Juliet. (Pertly.)
—Who wants me?

Lady.
I do, my wench; where have you so long tarried?
I wish to learn if you will soon get married;
For know you're sought in wedlock by young Paris;
He'll fret to fiddlestrings if his suit miscarries;
And will you let him break his tender heart?

Juliet.
I dont care much about him for my part;
Sure wedlock now-a-days is made a trade of;
But I will mark and see what stuff he's made of. Enter a Servant.

Servant.
Make haste away, Miss July, and old Mistress,
The guests are come, and Master's in a distress:
I heard him calling on you twice or thrice.—

Lady.
Tell him we'll join him, sirrah, in a trice
And John!—(calling after him.)

Servant.
Yes madam.

Lady.
Get the cards and dice. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Saloon in Capulet's House. The Capulets and Guests discovered,—Card and Hazard Tables, &c.

Capulet.
Welcome ye gents, ye ladies, welcome too!
In spite of corns I'll dance a bout with you.—

(Fiddles play, the dancers arrange themselves in order and dance jigs.)

Romeo. (Tipsy.)
—Dear cousin Ben, see you that young girl there,
Talking to yonder buck with ginger hair?

Benvolio. (Tipsy.)
—Cousin, the fascinating maid I see.

Romeo.
Faith, I'll soon make her have a chat with me.

(Rising from cards.) Tibalt.
—I know that voice! by George 'tis Romeo's!
He's no right here,—therefore I'll pull his nose.

Capulet.
Now don't,—Zounds, Sir! you'll put me in a stew,
If you insult my guests.—

Romeo. (To Juliet.)
—Miss, how d'ye do?
Will you permit me just to kiss your cheek?

Juliet.
No sir, I won't, and if you're rude, I'll shriek.

Romeo.
Madam, don't take me for a saucy rip;
If not your cheek, pray let me kiss your lip.

Juliet.
Now you talk sense; sir, I prefer the latter.

Romeo. (Aside.)
—O what a bonny lass! so here's have at her (Kisses her.)
Miss Juliet, say—was not that kiss delightful?
Come answer yes,—I hope you'll not be spiteful.

Juliet.
I own I like your form and red complexion.

Romeo.
Then one kiss more, if you have no objection. (Kisses her.)

Nurse.
Madam, your mother wants you.

Benvolio.
Who is she?

Nurse.
Why madam Capulet,—who should she be?

Benvolio.
Romeo, let's brush; I've ta'en my fill of Port,
And shrewdly guess we shall have no more sport.

Romeo.
So much the worse;—my dearest dear, good night. (To Juliet.)

Juliet.
Adieu, sweet rake!

Romeo.
Farewell my heart's delight! [Exeunt Romeo and Benvolio.

Capulet. (Calling after them.)
—Nay, gentlemen, now don't so soon depart,
But stay and sup on goose and apple tart. (To the company.)
—They will not stay, but guests, I hope you will:
Come; smoke a pipe with me and drink your fill;
I've bought two kegs of gin, and paid the bill. [Exeunt Capulet and Guests.

Juliet.
Who is that buck in pink that now did go?

Nurse.
The son and heir of old Tiber'—Heigh-ho! (Sleepy)

Juliet.
And who is he that gave my lips a buss?

Nurse.
Why Romeo, and there'd be a pretty fuss
If Master knew't.

Juliet.
If he be mar-ri-ed,
A horse-pond soon will be my wedding bed.
O that same Romeo is a handsome fellow!

Nurse.
True, but he swiped himself and got quite mellow

Juliet.
He's not to blame, though drunk as any swine:
For my old dad mixed brandy with the wine.

Nurse.
Nay, don't pretend, Miss, to excuse his sin;
After the wine he dosed himself with gin.

Juliet.
That's a mere trifle: let us join the throng,
And talk of Romeo as we pass along. [Exeunt. SCENE V. The Street. Enter Romeo.

Romeo.
I'm boiling o'er with love: my heart is with her;
And as I 'spy my cronies coming hither,
I'll give the rogues the slip. [Exit. Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.

Benvolio.
I say, hollo!
Stop and shake hands, at least, before you go!
Stop, stop, but see he scales yon garden wall!

Mercutio.
I hope the snivelling whelp will get a fall.
Romeo, good night! Benvolio, it's no use
To chase a gander seeking for his goose;
So let's be off.

Benvolio.
We will; 'twere vain to seek
For one, so drunk, who when we call, can't speak. [Exeunt, staggering. SCENE VI. A Garden.—Moonlight. Enter Romeo, who tumbles as he jumps from the wall.

Romeo. (Getting up and rubbing his head.)
—He jests at scars that never broke his head—
What light is that? 'tis Juliet going to bed. (Juliet appears at the Window.)
—Arise, fair sun! and put the moon to shame:
I saw her faint as soon as e'er you came.—
See how she leans her cheek upon her knuckles,
Her cheek that's shining like my best brass buckles.
Were I her glove, I'd give it such a smack!
Her eyes shou'd sparkle with delight.—

Juliet.
Alack! Alack!

Romeo.
She speaks, she speaks! now prithee speak again!
Why by the moon's light do'st thou thus complain?

Juliet. (Aside.)
—He thinks that I don't see him: he's mistaken,
So I'm resolved to sham, and smoke his bacon.
O Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo!

Romeo.
Come down, my turtle dove, and you shall know.

Juliet.
What man art thou that steals't beneath my window?

Romeo.
One whom fierce love in slavish chains has pinn'd Oh!

Juliet.
'Tis Romeo's voice! I know it by the sound!

Romeo.
That's a good reason, faith, and most profound.

Juliet.
But tell me, pray, how could'st thou venture here?
The garden walls are high—I'm sick with fear;—
If seen—my character is gone eternally:
My cousins too will thrash you most infernally!

Romeo.
Love urged me, dear, those walls to scamper over.

Juliet.
Love!—'tis indeed a fine leap for a lover!
I fear my cousins—

Romeo.
Don't mind them a flea.

Juliet.
If thou art found, my life on't they'll flea thee.

Romeo.
One frown from thee can give a deeper pain
Than all their blows, though they should fall like rain.

Juliet.
Thou know'st the shades of night veil o'er my face,
Else blushes out of number thou would'st trace
For what I said when I soliloquized,
But let me not for this be now dispised;
For that would be unfair:—don't think my boy,
I'm too comeatable: I'll soon be coy
If you presume to give yourself much airs;
If you love me, 'tis well,—if not, who cares?

Romeo.
Ma'am, by yon flat-faced moon, I do declare—

Juliet.
Its quite ridiculous by her to swear:
She changes every month, and much I fear
Thy love would change a hundred times a year.

Romeo.
What shall I swear by?

Juliet.
That which I love best:
Namely, thyself,—swear, then I'll go to rest.

Romeo.
Upon my honor.

Juliet.
Yet, upon my soul,
I think you'd better far not swear at all.
Good night, good night. (Going.)

Romeo.
Miss, will you leave me thus?

Juliet.
Romeo, what more require you?

Romeo.
But one buss.

Juliet.
Oh! that's impossible! my windows high;
You cannot reach me, so my dear, dont try. (Nurse calls.)
Coming! sweet Montague, awhile content ye,
I'll come again before you can count twenty. [Exit.

Romeo.
This is a lucky night! I'm quite delighted! (Re-enter Juliet.)

Juliet.
Five words, dear Romeo, let our loves be plighted,
And if my maiden fondness thou'rt not scorning,
Pray let me hear from thee to-morrow morning;

By one I'll send, at what time we shall marry;
For troth, I think it silly long to tarry.
Romeo, I go to take my nightly toddy;—
I hope thou meanest well.

Romeo.
So thrive my body! (Nurse calls within.)

Juliet.
Coming, I say! good night ty'e ten times over. [Exit.

Romeo.
For thy dear sake no more I'll prove a rover. (Re-enter Juliet.)

Juliet.
Romeo, my lad!

Romeo.
It is my love that speaks:
How prettily the tender creature squeaks!

Juliet.
Romeo!

Romeo.
My dove!

Juliet.
To-morrow at what hour
Shall I send to thee?

Romeo.
Let me think:—at four.

Juliet.
No, that's too early.

Romeo.
Then, sweet mistress mine,
If you think proper, it shall be at nine.

Juliet.
Yes, that will do; 'till then 'tis twenty years.

Romeo.
Now don't tell sibs! for clearly it appears
'Tis not so many hours.

Juliet.
Ah me! for what
I called thee back, somehow I've quite forgot.—
Oh! I remember! I've a lantern, which
You'd better take with you—'tis dark as pitch.
The moon is gone to sleep behind the clouds,
And ghosts now walk abroad to air their shrouds.

Romeo.
How can you let it down?

Juliet.
Why by a rope.

Romeo.
You'd better let yourself down and elope.

Juliet.
All in good time. Methought I saw a man turn
Round yonder wall! come will you have the lantern?

Romeo.
I'm much obliged; but day will soon be breaking.

Juliet.
Then pray be off,—I hear the old Nurse squeaking.
And yet I would not have thee further stray,
Than my young Magpie does, when we're at play:
Whene'er he hops too far and takes to wing,
I use my posy garter for a string,
And pull him back.

Romeo.
I would I were thy bird!

Juliet.
And so do I, sweetheart, upon my word:
But thou would'st be in danger then of choaking,
Sops down thy throat I always should be poking;
Once more good night! to part is quite provoking.

Romeo.
Peace guard thy head, and sound sleep bung thine eye up.
Ere long, a priest our marriage knot shall tie up. [Exeunt. END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ROMEO AND JULIET TRAVESTY.

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