Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare
marriage, as young people should do, because of this foolish old quarrel
between the Capulets and the Montagues.
And Friar Laurence was willing to help the young lovers secretly,
because he thought that when they were once married their parents
might soon be told, and that the match might put a happy end to the old
quarrel.
So the next morning early, Romeo and Juliet were married at Friar
Laurence's cell, and parted with tears and kisses. And Romeo promised to
come into the garden that evening, and the nurse got ready a rope-ladder
to let down from the window, so that Romeo could climb up and talk to
his dear wife quietly and alone.
But that very day a dreadful thing happened.
Tybalt, the young man who had been so vexed at Romeo's going to the
Capulet's feast, met him and his two friends, Mercutio and Benvolio, in
the street, called Romeo a villain, and asked him to fight. Romeo had no
wish to fight with Juliet's cousin, but Mercutio drew his sword, and
he and Tybalt fought. And Mercutio was killed. When Romeo saw that this
friend was dead, he forgot everything except anger at the man who had
killed him, and he and Tybalt fought till Tybalt fell dead.
So, on the very day of his wedding, Romeo killed his dear Juliet's
cousin, and was sentenced to be banished. Poor Juliet and her young
husband met that night indeed; he climbed the rope-ladder among the
flowers, and found her window, but their meeting was a sad one, and they
parted with bitter tears and hearts heavy, because they could not know
when they should meet again.
Now Juliet's father, who, of course, had no idea that she was married,
wished her to wed a gentleman named Paris, and was so angry when she
refused, that she hurried away to ask Friar Laurence what she should do.
He advised her to pretend to consent, and then he said:
“I will give you a draught that will make you seem to be dead for two
days, and then when they take you to church it will be to bury you, and
not to marry you. They will put you in the vault thinking you are dead,
and before you wake up Romeo and I will be there to take care of you.
Will you do this, or are you afraid?”
“I will do it; talk not to me of fear!” said Juliet. And she went home
and told her father she would marry Paris. If she had spoken out and
told her father the truth . . . well, then this would have been a
different story.
Lord Capulet was very much pleased to get his own way, and set about
inviting his friends and getting the wedding feast ready. Everyone
stayed up all night, for there was a great deal to do, and very little
time to do it in. Lord Capulet was anxious to get Juliet married because
he saw she was very unhappy. Of course she was really fretting about her
husband Romeo, but her father thought she was grieving for the death of
her cousin Tybalt, and he thought marriage would give her something else
to think about.
Early in the morning the nurse came to call Juliet, and to dress her
for her wedding; but she would not wake, and at last the nurse cried out
suddenly--
“Alas! alas! help! help! my lady's dead! Oh, well-a-day that ever I was
born!”
Lady Capulet came running in, and then Lord Capulet, and Lord Paris, the
bridegroom. There lay Juliet cold and white and lifeless, and all their
weeping could not wake her. So it was a burying that day instead of a
marrying. Meantime Friar Laurence had sent a messenger to Mantua with a
letter to Romeo telling him of all these things; and all would have been
well, only the messenger was delayed, and could not go.
But ill news travels fast. Romeo's servant who knew the secret of the
marriage, but not of Juliet's pretended death, heard of her funeral, and
hurried to Mantua to tell Romeo how his young wife was dead and lying in
the grave.
“Is it so?” cried Romeo, heart-broken. “Then I will lie by Juliet's side
to-night.”
And he bought himself a poison, and went straight back to Verona. He
hastened to the tomb where Juliet was lying. It was not a grave, but a
vault. He broke open the door, and was just going down the stone steps
that led to the vault where all the dead Capulets lay, when he heard a
voice behind him calling on him to stop.
It was the Count Paris, who was to have married Juliet that very day.
“How dare you come here and disturb the dead bodies of the Capulets, you
vile Montagu?” cried Paris.
Poor Romeo, half mad with sorrow, yet tried to answer gently.
“You were told,” said Paris, “that if you returned to Verona you must
die.”
“I must indeed,” said Romeo. “I came here for nothing else. Good, gentle
youth--leave me! Oh, go--before I do you any harm! I love you better
than myself--go--leave me here--”
Then Paris said, “I defy you, and I arrest you as a felon,” and Romeo,
in his anger and despair, drew his sword. They fought, and Paris was
killed.
As Romeo's sword pierced him, Paris cried--
“Oh, I am slain! If thou be merciful, open the tomb, and lay me with
Juliet!”
And Romeo said, “In faith I will.”
And he carried the dead man into the tomb and laid him by the dear
Juliet's side. Then he kneeled by Juliet and spoke to her, and held
her in his arms, and kissed her cold lips, believing that she was dead,
while all the while she was coming nearer and nearer to the time of her
awakening. Then he drank the poison, and died beside his sweetheart and
wife.
Now came Friar Laurence when it was too late, and saw all that had
happened--and then poor Juliet woke out of her sleep to find her husband
and her friend both dead beside her.
The noise of the fight had brought other folks to the place too, and
Friar Laurence, hearing them, ran away, and Juliet was left alone. She
saw the cup that had held the poison, and knew how all had happened, and
since no poison was left for her, she drew her Romeo's dagger and thrust
it through her heart--and so, falling with her head on her Romeo's
breast, she died. And here ends the story of these faithful and most
unhappy lovers.
* * * * * * *
And when the old folks knew from Friar Laurence of all that had
befallen, they sorrowed exceedingly, and now, seeing all the mischief
their wicked quarrel had wrought, they repented them of it, and over the
bodies of their dead children they clasped hands at last, in friendship
and forgiveness.
PERICLES
Pericles, the Prince of Tyre, was unfortunate enough to make an enemy of
Antiochus, the powerful and wicked King of Antioch; and so great was the
danger in which he stood that, on the advice of his trusty counselor,
Lord Helicanus, he determined to travel about the world for a time. He
came to this decision despite the fact that, by the death of his father,
he was now King of Tyre. So he set sail for Tarsus, appointing Helicanus
Regent during his absence. That he did wisely in thus leaving his
kingdom was soon made clear.
Hardly had he sailed on his voyage, when Lord Thaliard arrived from
Antioch with instructions from his royal master to kill Pericles. The
faithful Helicanus soon discovered the deadly purpose of this wicked
lord, and at once sent messengers to Tarsus to warn the King of the
danger which threatened him.
The people of Tarsus were in such poverty and distress that Pericles,
feeling that he could find no safe refuge there, put to sea again. But
a dreadful storm overtook the ship in which he was, and the good vessel
was wrecked, while of all on board only Pericles was saved. Bruised
and wet and faint, he was flung upon the cruel rocks on the coast of
Pentapolis, the country of the good King Simonides. Worn out as he was,
he looked for nothing but death, and that speedily. But some fishermen,
coming down to the beach, found him there, and gave him clothes and bade
him be of good cheer.
“Thou shalt come home with me,” said one of them, “and we will have
flesh for holidays, fish for fasting days, and moreo'er, puddings and
flapjacks, and thou shalt be welcome.”
They told him that on the morrow many princes and knights were going
to the King's Court, there to joust and tourney for the love of his
daughter, the beautiful Princess Thaisa.
“Did but my fortunes equal my desires,” said Pericles, “I'd wish to make
one there.”
As he spoke, some of the fishermen came by, drawing their net, and it
dragged heavily, resisting all their efforts, but at last they hauled it
in, to find that it contained a suit of rusty armor; and looking at it,
he blessed Fortune for her kindness, for he saw that it was his own,
which had been given to him by his dead father. He begged the fishermen
to let him have it that he might go to Court and take part in the
tournament, promising that if ever his ill fortunes bettered, he would
reward them well. The fishermen readily consented, and being thus fully
equipped, Pericles set off in his rusty armor to the King's Court.
In the tournament none bore himself so well as Pericles, and he won the
wreath of victory, which the fair Princess herself placed on his brows.
Then at her father's command she asked him who he was, and whence he
came; and he answered that he was a knight of Tyre, by name Pericles,
but he did not tell her that he was the King of that country, for he
knew that if once his whereabouts became known to Antiochus, his life
would not be worth a pin's purchase.
Nevertheless Thaisa loved him dearly, and the King was so pleased with
his courage and graceful bearing that he gladly permitted his daughter
to have her own way, when she told him she would marry the stranger
knight or die.
Thus Pericles became the husband of the fair lady for whose sake he
had striven with the knights who came in all their bravery to joust and
tourney for her love.
Meanwhile the wicked King Antiochus had died, and the people in Tyre,
hearing no news of their King, urged Lord Helicanus to ascend the vacant
throne. But they could only get him to promise that he would become
their King, if at the end of a year Pericles did not come back.
Moreover, he sent forth messengers far and wide in search of the missing
Pericles.
Some of these made their way to Pentapolis, and finding their King
there, told him how discontented his people were at his long absence,
and that, Antiochus being dead, there was nothing now to hinder him from
returning to his kingdom. Then Pericles told his wife and father-in-law
who he really was, and they and all the subjects of Simonides greatly
rejoiced to know that the gallant husband of Thaisa was a King in his
own right. So Pericles set sail with his dear wife for his native land.
But once more the sea was cruel to him, for again a dreadful storm broke
out, and while it was at its height, a servant came to tell him that
a little daughter was born to him. This news would have made his heart
glad indeed, but that the servant went on to add that his wife--his
dear, dear Thaisa--was dead.
While he was praying the gods to be good to his little baby girl,
the sailors came to him, declaring that the dead Queen must be thrown
overboard, for they believed that the storm would never cease so long
as a dead body remained in the vessel. So Thaisa was laid in a big chest
with spices and jewels, and a scroll on which the sorrowful King wrote
these lines:
“Here I give to understand
(If e'er this coffin drive a-land),
I, King Pericles, have lost
This Queen worth all our mundane cost.
Who finds her, give her burying;
She was the daughter of a King;
Besides this treasure for a fee,
The gods requite his charity!”
Then the chest was cast into the sea, and the waves taking it, by and
by washed it ashore at Ephesus, where it was found by the servants of a
lord named Cerimon. He at once ordered it to be opened, and when he
saw how lovely Thaisa looked, he doubted if she were dead, and took