Harry Potter 1. Prologue

When Ginny and Draco became Romeo and Juliet  
  
Disclaimer- this plot line was taken form Will Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, all characters except for the ones in Act 3 scene 1 are taken from JK Rowling's books. The Characters in Act 3 scene 1 are taken from my 9th grade English class when we had to do our Twombley Project on Romeo and Juliet. I hope you enjoy this version of Romeo and Juliet. ( I dedicate this play to Laura, Lee, Timothy, John, Mr. Twombley and my other friends who love Harry potter fics and Shakespeare as much as I do.  
  
Prologue  
  
Ginny sat in her room waiting for the characters to be announced. She finished her essay and ran down to the common room only to find that she and the guy she liked was playing Romeo and she herself was Juliet. Uproar came from the crowd asking how Romeo could be Malfoy and how was Ginny going to deal with it. She explained that it would all work out in the end.  
  
Seven Months Later  
  
It was the night of the performance and no one knew that they were together. They would be that way forever. Dumbledore said, "Welcome all to a night of drama. With us we are joined by the Twomblerian Shakespearian Elizabethan theater company. Welcome to all and may you enjoy this evening. Without further ado I present Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare." With that their was applause and the play began as follows.. 


	2. The first scene in the first act

PROLOGUE-Whole Cast  
  
Two households, both alike in dignity,  
  
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,  
  
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,  
  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  
  
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes  
  
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;  
  
Whole misadventured piteous overthrows  
  
Do with their death bury their parents' strife.  
  
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,  
  
And the continuance of their parents' rage,  
  
Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,  
  
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;  
  
The which if you with patient ears attend,  
  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. SCENE I. Verona. A public place. Enter PROFESSOR FLITWICK and PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL, of the house of Weasley, armed with wands and bucklers PROFESSOR FLITWICK Professor Mogonagal, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL No, for then we should be colliers. PROFESSOR FLITWICK I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. PROFESSOR FLITWICK I strike quickly, being moved. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL But thou art not quickly moved to strike. PROFESSOR FLITWICK A dog of the house of Malfoy moves me. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:  
  
therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. PROFESSOR FLITWICK A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will  
  
take the wall of any man or maid of Mr. Malfoy's. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. PROFESSOR FLITWICK True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,  
  
are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Malfoy's men from the wall, and thrust his maids  
  
to the wall. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. PROFESSOR FLITWICK 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I  
  
have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the  
  
maids, and cut off their heads. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL The heads of the maids? PROFESSOR FLITWICK Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;  
  
take it in what sense thou wilt. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL They must take it in sense that feel it. PROFESSOR FLITWICK Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and  
  
'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL 'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou  
  
hadst been poor Flitwick. Draw thy tool! here comes  
  
two of the house of the Malfoys. PROFESSOR FLITWICK My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL How! turn thy back and run? PROFESSOR FLITWICK Fear me not. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL No, marry; I fear thee! PROFESSOR FLITWICK Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as  
  
they list. PROFESSOR FLITWICK Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;  
  
which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. Enter WORMTAIL and DOBBY WORMTAIL Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? PROFESSOR FLITWICK I do bite my thumb, sir. WORMTAIL Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? PROFESSOR FLITWICK [Aside to PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL] Is the law of our side, if I say  
  
ay? PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL No. PROFESSOR FLITWICK No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I  
  
bite my thumb, sir. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL Do you quarrel, sir? WORMTAIL Quarrel sir! no, sir. PROFESSOR FLITWICK If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. WORMTAIL No better. PROFESSOR FLITWICK Well, sir. PROFESSOR MOGONAGAL Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. PROFESSOR FLITWICK Yes, better, sir. WORMTAIL You lie. PROFESSOR FLITWICK Draw, if you be men. Professor Mogonagal, remember thy swashing blow. They fight Enter GOYLE GOYLE Part, fools!  
  
Put up your wands; you know not what you do. Beats down their wands Enter RON WEASLEY RON WEASLEY What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Goyle, look upon thy death. GOYLE I do but keep the peace: put up thy wand,  
  
Or manage it to part these men with me. RON WEASLEY What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,  
  
As I hate hell, all Malfoys, and thee:  
  
Have at thee, coward! They fight Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Pavarti, Lavander and Neville, with clubs Pavarti Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!  
  
Down with the Weasleys! down with the Malfoys! Enter MR. WEASLEY in his gown, and MRS. WEASLEY MR. WEASLEY What noise is this? Give me my long wand, ho! MRS. WEASLEY A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a wand? MR. WEASLEY My wand, I say! Old Mr. Malfoy is come,  
  
And flourishes his blade in spite of me. Enter MR. MALFOY and MRS. MALFOY MR. MALFOY Thou villain Mr. Weasley,--Hold me not, let me go. LADY MR. MALFOY Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. Enter CORNELIUS FUDGE, with Shemaus and Dean CORNELIUS FUDGE Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,  
  
Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--  
  
Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,  
  
That quench the fire of your pernicious rage  
  
With purple fountains issuing from your veins,  
  
On pain of torture, from those bloody hands  
  
Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,  
  
And hear the sentence of your moved Cornelius Fudge.  
  
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,  
  
By thee, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy,  
  
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,  
  
And made Verona's ancient citizens  
  
Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,  
  
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,  
  
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:  
  
If ever you disturb our streets again,  
  
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.  
  
For this time, all the rest depart away:  
  
You Mr. Weasley; shall go along with me:  
  
And, Mr. Malfoy, come you this afternoon,  
  
To know our further pleasure in this case,  
  
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.  
  
Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. Exeunt all but MR. MALFOY, MRS. MALFOY, and GOYLE MR. MALFOY Who set this ancient quarrel new approach?  
  
Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? GOYLE Here were the servants of your adversary,  
  
And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:  
  
I drew to part them: in the instant came  
  
The fiery Ron Weasley, with his wand prepared,  
  
Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,  
  
He swung about his head and cut the winds,  
  
Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:  
  
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,  
  
Came more and more and fought on part and part,  
  
Till the Cornelius Fudge came, who parted either part. MRS. MALFOY O, where is Draco? Saw you him to-day?  
  
Right glad I am he was not at this fray. GOYLE Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun  
  
Peered forth the golden window of the east,  
  
A troubled mind drove me to walk abroad;  
  
Where, underneath the grove of sycamore  
  
That westward routed from the city's side,  
  
So early walking did I see your son:  
  
Towards him I made, but he was ware of me  
  
And stole into the covert of the wood:  
  
I, measuring his affections by my own,  
  
That most are busied when they're most alone,  
  
Pursued my humor not pursuing his,  
  
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. MR. MALFOY Many a morning hath he there been seen,  
  
With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.  
  
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;  
  
But all so soon as the all-cheering sun  
  
Should in the furthest east begin to draw  
  
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,  
  
Away from the light steals home my heavy son,  
  
And private in his chamber pens himself,  
  
Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out  
  
And makes himself an artificial night:  
  
Black and portentous must this humor prove,  
  
Unless good counsel may the cause remove. GOYLE My noble uncle, do you know the cause? MR. MALFOY I neither know it nor can learn of him. GOYLE Have you importuned him by any means? MR. MALFOY Both by myself and many other friends:  
  
But he, his own affections' counselor,  
  
Is to himself--I will not say how true--  
  
But to himself so secret and so close,  
  
So far from sounding and discovery,  
  
As is the bud bit with an enviousworm,  
  
Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,  
  
Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.  
  
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.  
  
We would as willingly give cure as know. Enter DRACO GOYLE See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;  
  
I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. MR. MALFOY I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,  
  
To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. Exeunt MR. MALFOY and MRS. MALFOY GOYLE Good-morrow, cousin. DRACO Is the day so young? GOYLE But new struck nine. DRACO Ay me! sad hours seem long.  
  
Was that my father that went hence so fast? GOYLE It was. What sadness lengthens Draco's hours? DRACO Not having that, which, having, makes them short. GOYLE In love? DRACO Out-- GOYLE Of love? DRACO Out of her favour, where I am in love. GOYLE Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,  
  
Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! DRACO Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,  
  
Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!  
  
Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?  
  
Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.  
  
Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.  
  
Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!  
  
O any thing, of nothing first create!  
  
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!  
  
Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!  
  
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,  
  
sick health!  
  
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!  
  
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.  
  
Dost thou not laugh? GOYLE No, coz, I rather weep. DRACO Good heart, at what? GOYLE At thy good heart's oppression. DRACO Why, such is love's transgression.  
  
Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,  
  
Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest  
  
With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown  
  
Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.  
  
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;  
  
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;  
  
Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:  
  
What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz. GOYLE Soft! I will go along;  
  
An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. DRACO Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;  
  
This is not Draco, he's some other where. GOYLE Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. DRACO What, shall I groan and tell thee? GOYLE Groan! why, no.  
  
But sadly tell me who. DRACO Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:  
  
Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!  
  
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. GOYLE I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. DRACO A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. GOYLE A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. DRACO Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit  
  
With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;  
  
And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,  
  
From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.  
  
She will not stay the siege of loving terms,  
  
Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,  
  
Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:  
  
O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,  
  
That when she dies with beauty dies her store. GOYLE Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? DRACO She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,  
  
For beauty starved with her severity  
  
Cuts beauty off from all posterity.  
  
She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,  
  
To merit bliss by making me despair:  
  
She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow  
  
Do I live dead that live to tell it now. GOYLE Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. DRACO O, teach me how I should forget to think. GOYLE By giving liberty unto thine eyes;  
  
Examine other beauties. DRACO 'Tis the way  
  
To call hers exquisite, in question more:  
  
These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows  
  
Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;  
  
He that is strucken blind cannot forget  
  
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:  
  
Show me a mistress that is passing fair,  
  
What doth her beauty serve, but as a note  
  
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?  
  
Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. GOYLE I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. Exeunt 


	3. The second Scene of the first act

SCENE II. A street.  
  
Enter MR. WEASLEY, HARRY, and Dean MR. WEASLEY But Montague is bound as well as I,  
  
In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,  
  
For men so old as we to keep the peace. HARRY Of honourable reckoning are you both;  
  
And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.  
  
But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? MR. WEASLEY But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world;  
  
She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,  
  
Let two more summers wither in their pride,  
  
Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. HARRY Younger than she are happy mothers made. MR. WEASLEY And too soon marr'd are those so early made.  
  
The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,  
  
She is the hopeful lady of my earth:  
  
But woo her, gentle Harry, get her heart,  
  
My will to her consent is but a part;  
  
An she agree, within her scope of choice  
  
Lies my consent and fair according voice.  
  
This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,  
  
Whereto I have invited many a guest,  
  
Such as I love; and you, among the store,  
  
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.  
  
At my poor house look to behold this night  
  
Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:  
  
Such comfort as do lusty young men feel  
  
When well-apparell'd April on the heel  
  
Of limping winter treads, even such delight  
  
Among fresh female buds shall you this night  
  
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,  
  
And like her most whose merit most shall be:  
  
Which on more view, of many mine being one  
  
May stand in number, though in reckoning none,  
  
Come, go with me. To Dean, giving a paper Go, sirrah, trudge about  
  
Through fair Verona; find those persons out  
  
Whose names are written there, and to them say,  
  
My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. Exeunt MR. WEASLEY and HARRY Dean Find them out whose names are written here! It is  
  
written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am  
  
sent to find those persons whose names are here  
  
writ, and can never find what names the writing  
  
person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. Enter GREGORY GOYLE and DRACO GREGORY GOYLE Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,  
  
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;  
  
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;  
  
One desperate grief cures with another's languish:  
  
Take thou some new infection to thy eye,  
  
And the rank poison of the old will die. DRACO Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. GREGORY GOYLE For what, I pray thee? DRACO For your broken shin. GREGORY GOYLE Why, Draco, art thou mad? DRACO Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;  
  
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,  
  
Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. Dean God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? DRACO Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. Dean Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I  
  
pray, can you read any thing you see? DRACO Ay, if I know the letters and the language. Dean Ye say honestly: rest you merry! DRACO Stay, fellow; I can read. Reads 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;  
  
County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady  
  
widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely  
  
nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine  
  
uncle Weasley, his wife and daughters; my fair niece  
  
Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin  
  
Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair  
  
assembly: whither should they come? Dean Up. DRACO Whither? Dean To supper; to our house. DRACO Whose house?  
  
Dean My master's. DRACO Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. Dean Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the  
  
great rich Weasley; and if you be not of the house  
  
of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.  
  
Rest you merry! Exit GREGORY GOYLE At this same ancient feast of Weasley's  
  
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,  
  
With all the admired beauties of Verona:  
  
Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,  
  
Compare her face with some that I shall show,  
  
And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. DRACO When the devout religion of mine eye  
  
Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;  
  
And these, who often drown'd could never die,  
  
Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!  
  
One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun  
  
Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. GREGORY GOYLE Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,  
  
Herself poised with herself in either eye:  
  
But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd  
  
Your lady's love against some other maid  
  
That I will show you shining at this feast,  
  
And she shall scant show well that now shows best. DRACO I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,  
  
But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. Exeunt 


	4. The third scene in the first act

SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.  
  
Enter MRS. WEASLEY and Hermione Granger MRS. WEASLEY Hermione Granger, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. Hermione Granger Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,  
  
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!  
  
God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Ginny! Enter GINNY WEASLEY GINNY WEASLEY How now! who calls? Hermione Granger Your mother. GINNY WEASLEY Madam, I am here.  
  
What is your will? MRS. WEASLEY This is the matter:--Hermione, give leave awhile,  
  
We must talk in secret:--Hermione, come back again;  
  
I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.  
  
Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. Hermione Granger Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. MRS. WEASLEY She's not fourteen. Hermione Granger I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--  
  
And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--  
  
She is not fourteen. How long is it now  
  
To Lammas-tide? MRS. WEASLEY A fortnight and odd days. Hermione Granger Even or odd, of all days in the year,  
  
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.  
  
Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--  
  
Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;  
  
She was too good for me: but, as I said,  
  
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;  
  
That shall she, marry; I remember it well.  
  
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;  
  
And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,--  
  
Of all the days of the year, upon that day:  
  
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,  
  
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;  
  
My lord and you were then at Mantua:--  
  
Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said,  
  
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple  
  
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,  
  
To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!  
  
Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,  
  
To bid me trudge:  
  
And since that time it is eleven years;  
  
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,  
  
She could have run and waddled all about;  
  
For even the day before, she broke her brow:  
  
And then my husband--God be with his soul!  
  
A' was a merry man--took up the child:  
  
'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?  
  
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;  
  
Wilt thou not, Gin?' and, by my holidame,  
  
The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'  
  
To see, now, how a jest shall come about!  
  
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,  
  
I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Gin?' quoth he;  
  
And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' MRS. WEASLEY Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. Hermione Granger Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,  
  
To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'  
  
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow  
  
A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;  
  
A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:  
  
'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?  
  
Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;  
  
Wilt thou not, Gin?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' GINNY WEASLEY And stint thou too, I pray thee, Hermione, say I. Hermione Granger Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!  
  
Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I Hermione:  
  
An I might live to see thee married once,  
  
I have my wish. MRS. WEASLEY Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme  
  
I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Ginny,  
  
How stands your disposition to be married? GINNY WEASLEY It is an honour that I dream not of. Hermione Granger An honour! were not I thine only Hermione,  
  
I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. MRS. WEASLEY Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,  
  
Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,  
  
Are made already mothers: by my count,  
  
I was your mother much upon these years  
  
That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:  
  
The valiant Harry seeks you for his love. Hermione Granger A man, young lady! lady, such a man  
  
As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. MRS. WEASLEY Verona's summer hath not such a flower. Hermione Granger Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. MRS. WEASLEY What say you? can you love the gentleman?  
  
This night you shall behold him at our feast;  
  
Read o'er the volume of young Harry' face,  
  
And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;  
  
Examine every married lineament,  
  
And see how one another lends content  
  
And what obscured in this fair volume lies  
  
Find written in the margent of his eyes.  
  
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,  
  
To beautify him, only lacks a cover:  
  
The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride  
  
For fair without the fair within to hide:  
  
That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,  
  
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;  
  
So shall you share all that he doth possess,  
  
By having him, making yourself no less. Hermione Granger No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. MRS. WEASLEY Speak briefly, can you like of Harry' love? GINNY WEASLEY I'll look to like, if looking liking move:  
  
But no more deep will I endart mine eye  
  
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. Enter Dean Dean Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you  
  
called, my young lady asked for, the Hermione cursed in  
  
the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must  
  
hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. MRS. WEASLEY We follow thee. Exit Dean Ginny, the county stays. Hermione Granger Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. Exeunt 


	5. The fourth scene in the first act

SCENE IV. A street.  
  
Enter DRACO, CRABBE, GOYLE, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others DRACO What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?  
  
Or shall we on without a apology? GOYLE The date is out of such prolixity:  
  
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,  
  
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,  
  
Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;  
  
Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke  
  
After the prompter, for our entrance:  
  
But let them measure us by what they will;  
  
We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. DRACO Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;  
  
Being but heavy, I will bear the light. CRABBE Nay, gentle Draco, we must have you dance. DRACO Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes  
  
With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead  
  
So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. CRABBE You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,  
  
And soar with them above a common bound. DRACO I am too sore enpierced with his shaft  
  
To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,  
  
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:  
  
Under love's heavy burden do I sink. CRABBE And, to sink in it, should you burden love;  
  
Too great oppression for a tender thing. DRACO Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,  
  
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. CRABBE If love be rough with you, be rough with love;  
  
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.  
  
Give me a case to put my visage in:  
  
A visor for a visor! what care I  
  
What curious eye doth quote deformities?  
  
Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. GOYLE Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,  
  
But every man betake him to his legs. DRACO A torch for me: let wantons light of heart  
  
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,  
  
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;  
  
I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.  
  
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. CRABBE Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:  
  
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire  
  
Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st  
  
Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! DRACO Nay, that's not so. CRABBE I mean, sir, in delay  
  
We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.  
  
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits  
  
Five times in that ere once in our five wits. DRACO And we mean well in going to this mask;  
  
But 'tis no wit to go. CRABBE Why, may one ask? DRACO I dream'd a dream to-night. CRABBE And so did I. DRACO Well, what was yours? CRABBE That dreamers often lie. DRACO In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. CRABBE O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.  
  
She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes  
  
In shape no bigger than an agate-stone  
  
On the fore-finger of an alderman,  
  
Drawn with a team of little atomies  
  
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;  
  
Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,  
  
The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,  
  
The traces of the smallest spider's web,  
  
The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,  
  
Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,  
  
Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,  
  
Not so big as a round little worm  
  
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;  
  
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut  
  
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,  
  
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.  
  
And in this state she gallops night by night  
  
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;  
  
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,  
  
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,  
  
O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,  
  
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,  
  
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:  
  
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,  
  
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;  
  
And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail  
  
Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,  
  
Then dreams, he of another benefice:  
  
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,  
  
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,  
  
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,  
  
Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon  
  
Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,  
  
And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two  
  
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab  
  
That plats the manes of horses in the night,  
  
And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,  
  
Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:  
  
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,  
  
That presses them and learns them first to bear,  
  
Making them women of good carriage:  
  
This is she-- DRACO Peace, peace, Crabbe, peace!  
  
Thou talk'st of nothing. CRABBE True, I talk of dreams,  
  
Which are the children of an idle brain,  
  
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,  
  
Which is as thin of substance as the air  
  
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes  
  
Even now the frozen bosom of the north,  
  
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,  
  
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. GOYLE This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;  
  
Supper is done, and we shall come too late. DRACO I fear, too early: for my mind misgives  
  
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars  
  
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date  
  
With this night's revels and expire the term  
  
Of a despised life closed in my breast  
  
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.  
  
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,  
  
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. GOYLE Strike, drum. Exeunt 


	6. The last and fifth scene in the first ac...

SCENE V. A hall in Mr. Weasley's house.  
  
Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins Neville Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! Dean When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. Neville Away with the joint-stools, remove the  
  
court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.  
  
Antony, and Potpan! Dean Ay, boy, ready. Neville You are looked for and called for, asked for and  
  
sought for, in the great chamber. Dean We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. Enter MR. WEASLEY, with GINNY and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers MR. WEASLEY Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes  
  
Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.  
  
Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all  
  
Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,  
  
She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?  
  
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day  
  
That I have worn a visor and could tell  
  
A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,  
  
Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:  
  
You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.  
  
A hall, a all! give room! and foot it, girls. Music plays, and they dance More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,  
  
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.  
  
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.  
  
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Remus;  
  
For you and I are past our dancing days:  
  
How long is't now since last yourself and I  
  
Were in a mask? Remus By'r lady, thirty years. MR. WEASLEY What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:  
  
'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,  
  
Come pentecost as quickly as it will,  
  
Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. Remus 'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;  
  
His son is thirty. MR. WEASLEY Will you tell me that?  
  
His son was but a ward two years ago. DRACO [To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth  
  
enrich the hand Of yonder knight? Sheamus I know not, sir. DRACO O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!  
  
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night  
  
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope'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.  
  
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. RON This, by his voice, should be a Montague.  
  
Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave  
  
Come hither, cover'd 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. MR. WEASLEY Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? RON Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,  
  
A villain that is hither come in spite,  
  
To scorn at our solemnity this night. MR. WEASLEY Young Draco is it? RON 'Tis he, that villain Draco. MR. WEASLEY Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;  
  
He bears him like a portly gentleman;  
  
And, to say truth, Verona brags of him  
  
To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:  
  
I would not for the wealth of all the 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,  
  
And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. RON It fits, when such a villain is a guest:  
  
I'll not endure him. MR. WEASLEY He shall be endured:  
  
What, goodman boy! 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! you'll be the man! RON Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. MR. WEASLEY 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; go:  
  
Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame!  
  
I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! RON Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting  
  
Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.  
  
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall  
  
Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. Exit DRACO [To GINNY] If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:  
  
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand  
  
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. GINNY 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. DRACO Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? GINNY Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. DRACO O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;  
  
They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. GINNY Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. DRACO Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.  
  
Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. GINNY Then have my lips the sin that they have took. DRACO Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!  
  
Give me my sin again. GINNY You kiss by the book. Hermione Madam, your mother craves a word with you. DRACO What is her mother? Hermione Marry, bachelor,  
  
Her mother is the lady of the house,  
  
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous  
  
I Hermioned her daughter, that you talk'd withal;  
  
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her  
  
Shall have the chinks. DRACO Is she a Weasley?  
  
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. GOYLE Away, begone; the sport is at the best. DRACO Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. MR. WEASLEY Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;  
  
We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.  
  
Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all  
  
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.  
  
More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed.  
  
Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:  
  
I'll to my rest. Exeunt all but GINNY and Hermione GINNY Come hither, Hermione. What is yond gentleman? Hermione The son and heir of old Tiberio. GINNY What's he that now is going out of door? Hermione Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. GINNY What's he that follows there, that would not dance? Hermione I know not. GINNY Go ask his name: if he be married.  
  
My grave is like to be my wedding bed. Hermione His name is Draco, and a Montague;  
  
The only son of your great enemy. GINNY 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. Hermione What's this? what's this? GINNY A rhyme I learn'd even now  
  
Of one I danced withal. One calls within 'Ginny.' Hermione Anon, anon!  
  
Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. Exeunt 


	7. The first scene of the Second act

PROLOGUE  
  
Enter Whole Cast Whole Cast Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,  
  
And young affection gapes to be his heir;  
  
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,  
  
With tender Ginny match'd, is now not fair.  
  
Now Draco is beloved and loves again,  
  
Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,  
  
But to his foe supposed he must complain,  
  
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access  
  
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;  
  
And she as much in love, her means much less  
  
To meet her new-beloved any where:  
  
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. Exit  
  
SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Weasley's orchard.  
  
Enter DRACO DRACO Can I go forward when my heart is here?  
  
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it Enter GOYLE and CRABBE GOYLE Draco! my cousin Draco! CRABBE He is wise; And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. GOYLE He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:  
  
Call, good Crabbe. CRABBE Nay, I'll conjure too.  
  
Draco! humours! madman! passion! lover!  
  
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:  
  
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;  
  
Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'  
  
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,  
  
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,  
  
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,  
  
When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!  
  
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;  
  
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.  
  
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,  
  
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,  
  
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh  
  
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,  
  
That in thy likeness thou appear to us! GOYLE And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. CRABBE This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him  
  
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle  
  
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand  
  
Till she had laid it and conjured it down;  
  
That were some spite: my invocation  
  
Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name  
  
I conjure only but to raise up him. GOYLE Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,  
  
To be consorted with the humorous night:  
  
Blind is his love and best befits the dark. CRABBE If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.  
  
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,  
  
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit  
  
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.  
  
Draco, that she were, O, that she were  
  
An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!  
  
Draco, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;  
  
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:  
  
Come, shall we go? GOYLE Go, then; for 'tis in vain  
  
To seek him here that means not to be found. Exeunt 


	8. The Famous Balcony scene

SCENE II. Weasley's orchard.  
  
Enter DRACO DRACO He jests at scars that never felt a wound. GINNY appears above at a window But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Ginny 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! GINNY Ay me! DRACO She speaks:  
  
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art  
  
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head  
  
As is a winged messenger of heaven  
  
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes  
  
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him  
  
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds  
  
And sails upon the bosom of the air. GINNY O Draco, Draco! wherefore art thou Draco?  
  
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;  
  
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,  
  
And I'll no longer be a Weasley. DRACO [Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? GINNY 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;  
  
Thou art thyself, though not a Malfoy.  
  
What's Malfoy? it is nor hand, nor foot,  
  
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part  
  
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!  
  
What's in a name? that which we call a rose  
  
By any other name would smell as sweet;  
  
So Draco would, were he not Draco call'd,  
  
Retain that dear perfection which he owes  
  
Without that title. Draco, doff thy name,  
  
And for that name which is no part of thee  
  
Take all myself. DRACO I take thee at thy word:  
  
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;  
  
Henceforth I never will be Draco. GINNY What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night  
  
So stumblest on my counsel? DRACO By a name  
  
I know not how to tell thee who I am:  
  
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,  
  
Because it is an enemy to thee;  
  
Had I it written, I would tear the word. GINNY My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words  
  
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:  
  
Art thou not Draco and a Malfoy? DRACO Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. GINNY How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?  
  
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,  
  
And the place death, considering who thou art,  
  
If any of my kinsmen find thee here. DRACO With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out,  
  
And what love can do that dares love attempt;  
  
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. GINNY If they do see thee, they will murder thee. DRACO Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye  
  
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,  
  
And I am proof against their enmity. GINNY I would not for the world they saw thee here. DRACO I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;  
  
And but thou love me, let them find me here:  
  
My life were better ended by their hate,  
  
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. GINNY By whose direction found'st thou out this place? DRACO By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;  
  
He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.  
  
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far  
  
As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,  
  
I would adventure for such merchandise. GINNY Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,  
  
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek  
  
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night  
  
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny  
  
What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!  
  
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'  
  
And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,  
  
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries  
  
Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Draco,  
  
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:  
  
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,  
  
I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,  
  
So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.  
  
In truth, fair Malfoy, I am too fond,  
  
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:  
  
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true  
  
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.  
  
I should have been more strange, I must confess,  
  
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,  
  
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,  
  
And not impute this yielding to light love,  
  
Which the dark night hath so discovered. DRACO Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear  
  
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- GINNY O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,  
  
That monthly changes in her circled orb,  
  
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. DRACO What shall I swear by? GINNY Do not swear at all;  
  
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,  
  
Which is the god of my idolatry,  
  
And I'll believe thee. DRACO If my heart's dear love-- GINNY Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,  
  
I have no joy of this contract to-night:  
  
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;  
  
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be  
  
Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!  
  
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,  
  
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast! DRACO O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? GINNY What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? DRACO The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. GINNY I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:  
  
And yet I would it were to give again. DRACO Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? GINNY But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have:  
  
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,  
  
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,  
  
The more I have, for both are infinite. Hermione calls within I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!  
  
Anon, good Hermione! Sweet Malfoy, be true.  
  
Stay but a little, I will come again. Exit, above DRACO O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.  
  
Being in night, all this is but a dream,  
  
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Re-enter GINNY, above GINNY Three words, dear Draco, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee,  
  
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;  
  
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Hermione [Within] Madam! GINNY I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,  
  
I do beseech thee-- Hermione [Within] Madam! GINNY By and by, I come:--  
  
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:  
  
To-morrow will I send. DRACO So thrive my soul-- GINNY A thousand times good night! Exit, above DRACO A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.  
  
Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from  
  
their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. Retiring Re-enter GINNY, above GINNY Hist! Draco, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,  
  
To lure this tassel-gentle back again!  
  
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;  
  
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,  
  
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, With repetition of my Draco's name. DRACO It is my soul that calls upon my name:  
  
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,  
  
Like softest music to attending ears! GINNY Draco! DRACO My dear? GINNY At what o'clock to-morrow  
  
Shall I send to thee? DRACO At the hour of nine. GINNY I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.  
  
I have forgot why I did call thee back. DRACO Let me stand here till thou remember it. GINNY I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,  
  
Remembering how I love thy company. DRACO And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,  
  
Forgetting any other home but this. GINNY 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:  
  
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;  
  
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,  
  
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,  
  
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,  
  
So loving-jealous of his liberty. DRACO I would I were thy bird. GINNY Sweet, so would I:  
  
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.  
  
Good night, good night! parting is such  
  
sweet sorrow,  
  
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. Exit above DRACO Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!  
  
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!  
  
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,  
  
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. Exit 


	9. The third scene in the second act

SCENE III. Albus Dumbledore's cell.  
  
Enter ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, with a basket ALBUS DUMBLEDORE The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,I must up- fill this osier cage of ours  
  
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.  
  
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;  
  
What is her burying grave that is her womb,  
  
And from her womb children of divers kind  
  
We sucking on her natural bosom find,  
  
Many for many virtues excellent,  
  
None but for some and yet all different.  
  
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies  
  
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:  
  
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live  
  
But to the earth some special good doth give,  
  
Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use  
  
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:  
  
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;  
  
And vice sometimes by action dignified.  
  
Within the infant rind of this small flower  
  
Poison hath residence and medicine power:  
  
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still  
  
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;  
  
And where the worser is predominant,  
  
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. Enter DRACO DRACO Good morrow, father. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE Benedicite!  
  
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?  
  
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head  
  
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:  
  
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,  
  
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;  
  
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain  
  
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: Therefore thy earliness doth me assure  
  
Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;  
  
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,  
  
Our Draco hath not been in bed to-night. DRACO That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE God pardon sin! wast thou with Pansy? DRACO With Pansy, my ghostly father? no;  
  
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? DRACO I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.  
  
I have been feasting with mine enemy,  
  
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,  
  
That's by me wounded: both our remedies  
  
Within thy help and holy physic lies:  
  
I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,  
  
My intercession likewise steads my foe. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;  
  
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. DRACO Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set  
  
On the fair daughter of rich Weasley:  
  
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;  
  
And all combined, save what thou must combine  
  
By holy marriage: when and where and how  
  
We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,  
  
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,  
  
That thou consent to marry us to-day. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!  
  
Is Pansy, whom thou didst love so dear,  
  
So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies  
  
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.  
  
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine  
  
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Pansy!  
  
How much salt water thrown away in waste,  
  
To season love, that of it doth not taste!  
  
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,  
  
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;  
  
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit  
  
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:  
  
If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,  
  
Thou and these woes were all for Pansy:  
  
And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. DRACO Thou chid'st me oft for loving Pansy. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. DRACO And bad'st me bury love. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE Not in a grave,To lay one in, another out to have. DRACO I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now  
  
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;  
  
The other did not so. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE O, she knew well  
  
Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.  
  
But come, young waverer, come, go with me,  
  
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;  
  
For this alliance may so happy prove,  
  
To turn your households' rancour to pure love. DRACO O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. ALBUS DUMBLEDORE Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. Exeunt 


	10. The fourth scene in the second act

SCENE IV. A street.  
  
Enter GOYLE and CRABBE CRABBE Where the devil should this Draco be?  
  
Came he not home to-night? GOYLE Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. CRABBE Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. GOYLE Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,  
  
Hath sent a letter to his father's house. CRABBE A challenge, on my life. GOYLE Draco will answer it. CRABBE Any man that can write may answer a letter. GOYLE Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he  
  
dares, being dared. CRABBE Alas poor Draco! he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? GOYLE Why, what is Tybalt? CRABBE More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is  
  
the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and  
  
proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and  
  
the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk  
  
button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the  
  
very first house, of the first and second cause:  
  
ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the  
  
hai! GOYLE The what? CRABBE The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting  
  
fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,  
  
grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with  
  
these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these  
  
perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones! Enter DRACO GOYLE Here comes Draco, here comes Draco. CRABBE Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,  
  
how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers  
  
that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to  
  
be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;  
  
Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior  
  
Draco, bon jour! there's a French salutation  
  
to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit  
  
fairly last night. DRACO Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? CRABBE The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? DRACO Pardon, good Crabbe, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. CRABBE That's as much as to say, such a case as yours  
  
constrains a man to bow in the hams. DRACO Meaning, to court'sy. CRABBE Thou hast most kindly hit it. DRACO A most courteous exposition. CRABBE Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. DRACO Pink for flower. CRABBE Right. DRACO Why, then is my pump well flowered. CRABBE Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast  
  
worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it  
  
is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. DRACO O single-soled jest, solely singular for the  
  
singleness. CRABBE Come between us, good Goyle; my wits faint. DRACO Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. CRABBE Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have  
  
done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: was I with you there for the goose? DRACO Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast not there for the goose. CRABBE I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. DRACO Nay, good goose, bite not. CRABBE Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most  
  
sharp sauce. DRACO And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? CRABBE O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an  
  
inch narrow to an ell broad! DRACO I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added  
  
to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. CRABBE Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Draco; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. GOYLE Stop there, stop there.  
  
CRABBE Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. GOYLE Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. CRABBE O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:  
  
for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and  
  
meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. DRACO Here's goodly gear! Enter Hermione and HAGRID CRABBE A sail, a sail! GOYLE Two, two; a shirt and a smock. Hermione Hagrid! HAGRID Anon! Hermione My fan, Hagrid. CRABBE Good Hagrid, to hide her face; for her fan's the  
  
fairer face. Hermione God ye good morrow, gentlemen. CRABBE God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. Hermione Is it good den? CRABBE 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the  
  
dial is now upon the prick of noon. Hermione Out upon you! what a man are you! DRACO One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar. Hermione By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,'  
  
quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Draco? DRACO I can tell you; but young Draco will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. Hermione You say well. CRABBE Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;  
  
wisely, wisely. Hermione if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with  
  
you. GOYLE She will indite him to some supper. CRABBE A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! DRACO What hast thou found? CRABBE No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,  
  
that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. Sings An old hare hoar,  
  
And an old hare hoar,  
  
Is very good meat in lent  
  
But a hare that is hoar  
  
Is too much for a score,  
  
When it hoars ere it be spent.  
  
Draco, will you come to your father's? we'll  
  
to dinner, thither. DRACO I will follow you. CRABBE Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, Singing 'lady, lady, lady.' Exeunt CRABBE and GOYLE Hermione Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy  
  
merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? DRACO A gentleman, Hermione, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month. Hermione An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him  
  
down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt- gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? HAGRID I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side. Hermione Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offeredto any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. DRACO Hermione, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I  
  
protest unto thee-- Hermione Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:  
  
Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. DRACO What wilt thou tell her, Hermione? thou dost not mark me. Hermione I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as  
  
I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. DRACO Bid her devise Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;  
  
And there she shall at Albus Dumbledore' cell  
  
Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. Hermione No truly sir; not a penny. DRACO Go to; I say you shall. Hermione This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. DRACO And stay, good Hermione, behind the abbey wall:  
  
Within this hour my man shall be with thee  
  
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;  
  
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy  
  
Must be my convoy in the secret night.  
  
Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:  
  
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. Hermione Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. DRACO What say'st thou, my dear Hermione? Hermione Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,  
  
Two may keep counsel, putting one away? DRACO I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. HERMIONE Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord,  
  
Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there  
  
is a nobleman in town, one Harry Potter, that would fain  
  
lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief  
  
see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her  
  
sometimes and tell her that Harry Potter is the properer  
  
man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. DRACO Commend me to thy lady. Hermione Ay, a thousand times. Exit Draco Hagrid! HAGRID Anon! Hermione Hagrid, take my fan, and go before and apace. Exeunt 


End file.

Harry Potter, Parody, Romance