Romeo and Juliet: Act I Scene 5

From The Mystical Art of Shakespeare Volume II

The earlier scenes of Act I are preliminary actions that set the scene for the culmination of the first movement in Romeo and Juliet, which is Act I Scene 5, the final scene before the chorus reappears to introduce us to the rest of the play.

The entire final scene from Act I plays out like a carefully crafted dramatic symphony, its deep meaning heavily imbued with passion. This is true mystical theatre, fulfilling the ultimate purpose behind the esoteric art of the mystery play—a play enacted as a form of initiation, where the spiritual message is transmitted to the initiate in the form of an emotional appeal that touches the depths of his inner being. Thus, like a mystery play, this dramatic scene at the Capulet’s feast is designed to bring forth a realization that is emotionally felt rather than intellectualized, such that we learn by living through the experience.

This entire scene warrants scrutiny. There is, initially, a short preliminary section showing workers frantically preparing for the feast, so that the arrival of the guests in the main hall generates the atmosphere of a curtain raiser to an important scene.

We next find Capulet jovially welcoming the guests, many in masks—among whom are Romeo and his kinsmen, the Montagues. Thus, we have an almost transcendental situation free of labels, a near mystical atmosphere free of identities, unattached to extraneous factors born of our delusions. With this freedom, the Capulets and the Montagues revel amicably together. Imputed qualities like labels, which do not inherently belong, are not distorting the reality.

In the midst of these revels, partaken by both the Capulets and the Montagues, Romeo suddenly has Juliet in his sights:

Romeo. What lady’s that which doth enrich the hand 

Of yonder knight?

Servant. I know not, sir.

Romeo. O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright.

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear—

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows

As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.

Gone like mist in the warm light of the sun are Romeo’s former feelings for Rosaline. The vision of Juliet dispels it all with striking abruptness, affirming Benvolio’s earlier words that, compared to other beauties, “I will make thee think thy swan a crow,” and refuting Romeo’s own denial of them. Romeo resolves to approach Juliet.

Romeo. The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,

And touching hers make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight.

For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.

Tybalt now overhears Romeo and recognizes the voice of a Montague. In a flash—like lightning in a clear blue sky—the aura of transcendental freedom is shattered. Tybalt’s horizons turn dark and menacing, thunder broils from within, and malevolent winds churn up the enmity of a deluded pride—a pride born of the failure to realize that labels do not inherently exist.

Tybalt. This by his voice should be a Montague.

Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave

Come hither, covered with an antic face

To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?

Now by the stock and honour of my kin,

To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Shakespeare has thus created a brilliant allegorical scene with the masked ball representing the state of unity prior to labels being attached. All is well when all are masked, and identities unknown. Without labels, the Montagues and Capulets are amicable. This transcendent state of unity, however, gets tragically shattered once labels intrude upon it, like a dire plague.

Yet in truth, nothing has changed, because labels are not real. They are merely imputed properties that do not inherently belong. It is only our ignorance of this fact that transforms labels into something malevolent, transforms our spiritual unity into a tragic world of separation, a world of dichotomy.

Now, in his tempestuous rush to open hostilities with Romeo, Tybalt encounters his uncle, the master of the house.

Capulet. Why how now, kinsman, wherefore storm you so?

Tybalt. Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe:

A villain that is hither come in spite

To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Capulet Young Romeo is it?

Tybalt ’Tis he, that villain Romeo.

Capulet. Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.

A bears him like a portly gentleman;

And to say truth, Verona brags of him

To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.

I will not for the wealth of all this town

Here in my house do him disparagement.

Therefore, be patient, take no note of him.

It is my will, the which if thou respect,

Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,

An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

Capulet is more concerned about his feast, at this time, than his designated enemies, the Montagues. But Tybalt is so deceived by the labels that he is engulfed with hatred and plays his role as a Capulet with ominous intensity.

Tybalt. It fits when such a villain is a guest:

I’ll not endure him.

Capulet. He shall be endured.

What, goodman boy!^[1] I say he shall! Go to,

Am I the master here or you? Go to.

You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul,

You’ll make a mutiny among my guests,

You will set cock-a-hoop,^[2] you’ll be the man.

Tybalt. Why, uncle, ’tis a shame.

Capulet. Go to, go to.

You are a saucy boy. Is’t so indeed.

This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what.

You must contrary me. Marry, ’tis time—

Well said, my hearts—You are a princox,^[3] go

Be quiet, or—More light! More light!—For shame,

I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!

Capulet is adamant that the success of his feast takes priority over the long-standing feud, but the restraint imposed upon Tybalt only kindles the hatred within him. Tybalt’s tragedy is that he is so deceived by the convention of labels that he considers it an honor to inflame his hate to a fever pitch.

Tybalt. Patience perforce^[4] with willful choler meeting

Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.

I will withdraw; but this intrusion shall

Now seeming sweet, convert to bitterest gall.

Tybalt leaves the scene. The whole emotional sequence now plays out again, with even greater intensity. Romeo and Juliet meet face to face, for the first time, neither knowing who the other is.

Romeo. If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Juliet. Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

Romeo. Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet. Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Romeo. O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!

They pray. Grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet. Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.

Romeo. Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.

The imagery concerning saints and pilgrims evokes an atmosphere of purity, and in one sense, this is the case. For Romeo has met Juliet without either being aware of each other’s names. This whole encounter is thus untainted with labels—the labels of “Montague” and “Capulet” that will soon cause them strife.

The irony is that this whole episode also makes a travesty of the purity suggested by the encounter of pilgrim and saint, because the underlying motive behind it all is simply that of lovers’ desire. This is not the universal love that one encounters on the spiritual path, but only the partial love between one man and one woman, so in a sense it is a parody of purity, which the scene itself suggests.

Juliet. Then have my lips the sin that they have took?

Romeo. Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.

Juliet. You kiss by the book.

Juliet is probably encouraging Romeo to try yet again, maybe a little less “by the book” this time. But the nurse interrupts the proceedings.

Nurse. Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

Romeo. What is her mother?

Nurse. Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house,

And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous.

I nursed her daughter that you talked withal.

I tell you, he that can lay hold of her

Shall have the chinks.^[5]

Suddenly the plague of labels is upon Romeo. The atmosphere of transcendental purity is shattered and, once again, the horizons darken with brooding menace. The painfully awakened delusion over labels now weighs heavily upon Romeo, filling him with dissonance and despair.

Romeo. Is she a Capulet?

O dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.

Thus, we have yet another sequence of transcendental unity shattered by the intrusion of labels. It is late and the guests begin to depart from the feast.

Benvolio. Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.

Romeo. Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

Romeo has a foreboding sense of the coming tribulation and is struck by the tragedy of his circumstances—a tragedy born of nothing but the delusion over labels. Juliet is about to be afflicted by this same delusion over labels. She asks the nurse to find out the name of her newfound lover.

Juliet. Go ask his name. If he be married,

My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

The nurse soon returns with the startling revelation.

Nurse. His name is Romeo, and a Montague,

The only son of your great enemy.

Juliet. My only love sprung from my only hate.

Too early seen unknown, and known too late.

Prodigious birth of love it is to me

That I must love a loathed enemy.

There is no real “enemy” here, but unfortunately, adherence to the labeling convention has created a false “enemy” for Juliet. Again, a menacing presence darkens the scene, dispelling the warm purity of the young lovers’ first meeting. Shakespeare thus closes the play’s first movement with a powerful enactment of the reason for their ultimate tragedy—that reason being none other than our delusion over labels.

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^[1] goodman boy disparaging Tybalt, as a goodman is a yeoman which is below the rank of gentleman

^[2] cock-a-hoop like a strutting cock, or unrestrained drinking with the cock (or spigot) removed

^[3] princox a combination of the words “prince” and “cock”

^[4] patience perforce enforced tolerance or self-control

^[5] chinks coins, money