Now Lord Capulet, the head of that family,
gave a party-- a grand supper and a dance--and
he was so hospitable that he said anyone might
come to it except (of course) the Montagues.
But there was a young Montagu named Romeo,
who very much wanted to be there, because
Rosaline, the lady he loved, had been asked.
This lady had never been at all kind to him,
and he had no reason to love her; but the fact
was that he wanted to love somebody, and as he
hadn't seen the right lady, he was obliged to love
the wrong one. So to the Capulet's grand party
he came, with his friends Mercutio and Benvolio.

Old Capulet welcomed him and his two friends
very kindly--and young Romeo moved about
among the crowd of courtly folk dressed in their
velvets and satins, the men with jeweled sword
hilts and collars, and the ladies with brilliant gems
on breast and arms, and stones of price set in their
bright girdles. Romeo was in his best too, and though
he wore a black mask over his eyes and nose,
everyone could see by his mouth and his hair, and
the way he held his head, that he was twelve times
handsomer than anyone else in the room.

Presently amid the dancers he saw a lady so
beautiful and so lovable that from that moment
he never again gave one thought to that Rosaline
whom he had thought he loved. And he looked
at this other fair lady, as she moved in the dance
in her white satin and pearls, and all the world
seemed vain and worthless to him compared with
her. And he was saying this, or something like it,
when Tybalt, Lady Capulet's nephew, hearing his
voice, knew him to be Romeo. Tybalt, being very
angry, went at once to his uncle, and told him
how a Montagu had come uninvited to the feast;
but old Capulet was too fine a gentleman to be
discourteous to any man under his own roof, and
he bade Tybalt be quiet. But this young man only
waited for a chance to quarrel with Romeo.

In the meantime Romeo made his way to the fair
lady, and told her in sweet words that he loved
her, and kissed her. Just then her mother sent
for her, and then Romeo found out that the lady
on whom he had set his heart's hopes was Juliet,
the daughter of Lord Capulet, his sworn foe. So
he went away, sorrowing indeed, but loving her
none the less.

Then Juliet said to her nurse:

"Who is that gentleman that would not dance?"

"His name is Romeo, and a Montagu, the only
son of your great enemy," answered the nurse.

Then Juliet went to her room, and looked out of
her window, over the beautiful green-grey garden,
where the moon was shining. And Romeo was
hidden in that garden among the trees--because
he could not bear to go right away without trying
to see her again. So she--not knowing him to be
there--spoke her secret thought aloud, and told
the quiet garden how she loved Romeo.

And Romeo heard and was glad beyond measure.
Hidden below, he looked up and saw her fair face
in the moonlight, framed in the blossoming
creepers that grew round her window, and as he
looked and listened, he felt as though he had been
carried away in a dream, and set down by some
magician in that beautiful and enchanted garden.

"Ah--why are you called Romeo?" said Juliet.
"Since I love you, what does it matter what you
are called?"

"Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized--henceforth
I never will be Romeo," he cried, stepping into the full
white moonlight from the shade of the cypresses and
oleanders that had hidden him.

She was frightened at first, but when she saw that
it was Romeo himself, and no stranger, she too
was glad, and, he standing in the garden below
and she leaning from the window, they spoke long
together, each one trying to find the sweetest words
in the world, to make that pleasant talk that lovers
use. And the tale of all they said, and the sweet music
their voices made together, is all set down in a golden
book, where you children may read it for yourselves
some day.

And the time passed so quickly, as it does for folk who
love each other and are together, that when the time
came to part, it seemed as though they had met but
that moment-- and indeed they hardly knew how to
part.

"I will send to you to-morrow," said Juliet.

And so at last, with lingering and longing, they
said good-bye.

Juliet went into her room, and a dark curtain bid
her bright window. Romeo went away through
the still and dewy garden like a man in a dream.

The next morning, very early, Romeo went to Friar
Laurence, a priest, and, telling him all the story,
begged him to marry him to Juliet without delay.
And this, after some talk, the priest consented to do.

So when Juliet sent her old nurse to Romeo that day
to know what he purposed to do, the old woman took
back a a message that all was well, and all things ready
for the marriage of Juliet and Romeo on the next morning.

The young lovers were afraid to ask their parents'
consent to their 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 avault. He
broke open the door, and was just going down
the stonesteps that led to the vault where all the
dead Capulets lay, when he heard a voice bebind
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.

; {N/ErD }