I had no idea Romeo and Juliet was so raunchy! Shakespeare's vast vocabulary was apparently not deficient in the area of human anatomy. All the skewering of young Montagues and Capulets seems to be their way of burning off hormonal urgings.
Gregory: The quarrel is between our masters and us their men
Samson: 'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men I will be civil with the maids—I will cut off their heads.
Gregory: The head of the maids?
Samson: Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads, take it in what sense thou wilt.
Gregory: They must take it in sense that feel it.
Samson: Me they shall feel while I am able to stand, and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Uh huh. Moving right along... The feud between the Montagues and Capulets is not explained (as far as I could tell) and judging by the readiness of each side to fight over the slightest slight (funny how Shakespeare gets into you) the cause of the feud was no doubt just as trivial. The results, however were not: a grand total of six noble Veronans had "aspired the clouds" by play's end.
I've only read through the play once so I can't really comment intelligently on it, but I will say that it was a bit of a slog at first but got much easier as I went along. The rhymes and jokes and other verbal gymnastics were very enjoyable and judiciously used. Here's a taste of Juliet's sharp tongue as she is accosted by her intended, Count Paris at the Friary:
Paris: Happily met, my lady and my wife.
Juliet: That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
Paris: That 'may be' must be, love, on Thursday next.
Juliet: What must be shall be.
Friar Laurence: That's a certain text.
Paris: Come you to make confession to this father?
Juliet: To answer that, I should confess toyou.
Paris: Do not deny to him that you love me.
Juliet: I will confess to you that I love him.
Paris: So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
Juliet: If I do so, it will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
Paris: Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
Juliet: The tears have got small victory by that,
For it was bad enough before their spite.
Paris: Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report.
Juliet: That is no slander, sir, which is a truth,
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Paris: Thy face is mine, and thou has slandered it.
Juliet: It may be so, for it is not mine own.—
Are you at leisure, holy father, now,
or shall I come to you at evening mass?
Poor dear, the friar could save her from marriage with the courtly Paris but they both ended up littering the floor of the Capulet tomb. O me!
