ROMEO
Romeo. He jests at scars, that never felt a wound.
[Juliet appears above, at a window.
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady; O! it is my love.
O! that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not night.
See! how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O! that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.
THE APOTHECARY IN "ROMEO AND JULIET"
This grim compounder of death-dealing drugs was for me a most interesting part to play; I made him up from head to foot.
From the costumier I got the oldest garments that I could procure. At the elbows, knees, and heels, I destroyed them with acid, so that when I had them on the joints protruded. The coat and cloak, if I did not carefully bind them round me, disclosed my ribs.
Wherever flesh showed I painted it in such a way that it suggested emaciation, and though in reality I am well favoured with flesh I was told that on the stage I looked like a skeleton done up in a bundle of rags.