SOURCE: Newman, Paula, and George Walton Williams. “Paris: The Mirror of Romeo.” In Renaissance Papers (1981): 13-19.

[In the following essay, Newman and Williams discuss how Shakespeare's dialogue and action establish Paris and Romeo as mirror images of one another.]

In the structure of Romeo and Juliet, Paris serves the function of a parallel or opposite figure to Romeo, both standing as suitors for Juliet's hand and both lying with her finally in her tomb; but this rivalry, however clear in the lines of the plot, is not realized in the action. Paris and Romeo are oblivious to it, and they do not encounter one another until they meet in death. In the general atmosphere of the play, furthermore, Paris serves additionally as a mirror in which are reflected, at first, Romeo's impetuous youth and, later, Romeo's despairing maturity. The mirroring is evident in verbal description, in action, and in dialogue.

In a play which is notable for the presence of several youths, Paris and Romeo are both described by the terms “youth” and “young” several times in the play, Capulet or his Wife using the latter adjective to describe each of them once.¹ Paris and Romeo are both “gentle,”² and both uniquely among the youths have attributes that are flower-like and “fair.”³ These attributes are, indeed, common enough, but descriptions from three uncommon metaphors also link the rivals—wax, books, and the game of primero.

A man, young lady! lady, such a man
As all the world—why he's a man of wax,

(I.iii.75-6)

says the Nurse of Paris; and the other confidant, the Friar, says of Romeo,

Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digressing from the valour of a man.

(III.iii.126-7)

Though the two metaphors are alike, it is the dissimilarity in their application that bears examination. The Nurse's comment intimates that Paris is like a waxen figure, a perfect specimen of a man; the Friar's reproof chides Romeo's manliness as waxen, subject to melting or dissolution, unable to hold its noble shape, changing. Similarly, Capulet's Wife describes Paris as

                                                  this fair volume …
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

(I.iii.85-87)

and Juliet, describing Romeo, asks

Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound?

(III.ii.83-4)

Once again, it is the dissimilarity in the two examples of the same metaphor that is noteworthy. Paris is a perfect specimen of a book wanting only a binding, which marriage to Juliet would provide; Romeo is the complete volume now in its binding already. And thirdly, the Nurse jokes with the unconscious Juliet before her marriage to Paris, using a term from primero, saying that the County Paris “hath set up his rest / That you shall rest but little” (IV.v.6-7); and Romeo grimly echoes that jest with the unconscious Juliet before her marriage to Death, vowing that he will “set up [his] … everlasting rest … With worms that are thy chamber-maids” (V.iii.110, 109). The Nurse's Fescinnine humor alludes fittingly to Paris' short wedding night; Romeo's fatal horror addresses a long and “dateless bargain to engrossing death” (l. 115). The two men are, indeed, a pair, but the imagery bespeaks the difference between them: Paris is young, unchanging, but incomplete; Romeo is young, changeable, maturing, and complete. Romeo describes himself as “young Romeo [who] will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him” (II.iv.126-8).

Perhaps more remarkable than these verbal parallels and contrasts are the visible contrasts in the actions of the lovers. Paris and Romeo are on stage together only twice, but the alternation of their exits and entrances throughout the play is extraordinary. The juxtapositions of the two lovers provide a visual mirroring of the pair. In Act I, at the end of scene one, Romeo leaves the stage; Paris enters immediately at the beginning of scene two. In the middle of scene two, Paris leaves the stage; after seven lines of the Servant's soliloquy, Romeo enters. This alternation brings the two suitors to our attention as they confront similar situations: Romeo describes his suit to Rosaline, Paris announces his suit to Juliet, and both Romeo and Paris plan to attend Capulet's feast. In Act III the same technique obtains. At the end of scene three, Romeo leaves the stage, and Paris enters immediately at the beginning of scene four; at the end of scene four, Paris leaves the stage, and Romeo enters immediately at the beginning of scene five. This alternation provides the almost obscene juxtaposition of Paris' contract for marriage with Juliet and Romeo's consummation of marriage with Juliet. In Acts IV and V, the third alternation of this kind, Paris and Romeo both receive the news of Juliet's supposed death, the one in Verona at the end of Act IV, scene five, the other in Mantua at the beginning of Act V, scene one. (The two appearances are separated by the comic episode of Peter and the Musicians. If the theory that this section is a later addition of Shakespeare's is correct, then the two suitors are again closely juxtaposed, Paris leaving and, after six lines, Romeo entering.⁴)

Paris is on stage only once without direct reference to Romeo—in Act IV, scene one. This appearance is precisely what we should expect. In all of Shakespeare's tragedies, the hero is removed from the attention of the audience in Act IV; his place is taken by his opposite (e.g., Hamlet leaves our awareness, going to England; Laertes fills his place, coming from France). Furthermore, Paris appears here in a meeting with the Friar, exactly balancing Romeo's meeting with the Friar in Act II, scene three; in both scenes, the lovers make plans with the Friar for a speedy marriage, and he on both occasions speaks for slowness instead of haste. In addition, Paris meets Juliet at the Friar's cell, as Romeo earlier had met Juliet at the Friar's cell.

The two occasions when the suitors are on stage together are moments of the highest significance. The first is at Capulet's old accustomed feast, where they are unaware of each other but where they both fall in love with Juliet.⁵ The second is at Capulet's monument, where again, though each identifies the other, neither is aware of the reason that brings the other to Juliet's tomb. After Paris dies at Romeo's hand, Romeo recognizes him. The two lovers meet; Romeo carries the body of his dead rival into Juliet's bridal chamber where all three marry in the same instant that they die in the feasting presence full of light.

The dialogue of the lovers in this scene at Capulet's monument gives additional evidence of the mirroring. Paris speaks to his Page:

Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: …
Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

(V.iii.1, 9)

Romeo echoes these instructions, speaking to his Man:

Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. …
Give me the light: …
                                                            … stand all aloof.

(V.iii.22, 25-6)

The similarities between these two injunctions are striking, but the dissimilarities are more so. Paris asks his boy for the flowers; Romeo asks his man for the mattock and the wrenching iron.⁶ The flowers represent Paris—freshness and youth and life; the mattock and the iron represent Romeo—death. The contrast demonstrates clearly that Paris is still the fair, young, and gentle youth that he was at the beginning of the play, and that he is no longer the parallel figure to Romeo. Paris offers to “strew … [Juliet's] bridal bed … with flowers”; Romeo threatens to “strew this hungry churchyard with … [his Man's] limbs” (ll. 12, 36).

When Paris apprehends Romeo, Romeo pleads with him to flee, distinguishing between Paris' youth and his own mature manhood:

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;
                                                                                                    … I beseech thee, youth,
… I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone: live, and hereafter say,
A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

(ll. 59-67)

The irony of Romeo's words is apparent. Romeo does love Paris better than he loves himself, because Paris is the image of his youth, the “one short minute” of joy exchanged with Juliet (II.vi.4 - 5). Symbolically, Romeo must kill Paris because that part of him is gone and dead. He does therefore come armed against himself. After killing his younger self, Romeo discovers that his antagonist was the “noble Countie Paris,” and he grasps the dead hand.⁷ His epitaph returns to the metaphor of the book, now combining both of the lovers-as-books in the single volume:

One writ with me in sour misfortune's book.

(l. 82)

Romeo's placing of the dead Paris, the image of his youth, beside Juliet inside the tomb and his own suicide represent the full and final achievement of manhood for both of the young suitors.

To see how Shakespeare has been at pains to establish his contrast we have but to compare the play with Arthur Brooke's poem, Shakespeare's primary source for narrative, character, and metaphor. In the poem, Paris enters the story for the first time after the death of Tybalt and the banishment of Romeo (l. 1845), in effect at the equivalent of III.v.105. He comes to rouse Juliet on her wedding day at the equivalent of IV.v.32, but he takes no part in the obsequies and drops out of the story thereafter (l. 2443). Shakespeare has devised the three juxtapositions (at I.i-ii, at III.iii.iv-v, and at IV.v-V.i); he has realized Paris' visit to the Friar (IV.i) for which there is no original material (except his own anticipation in Romeo's visit); and he has provided the two moments when both lovers are on stage. Shakespeare's intention is clear; his skill is manifest. The source figure is developed in such a way and deployed in the play at such points as to draw specifically the contrast between the two suitors, two young men, the flower of youth blasted as they meet, and dead on arrival at the tomb, their final destination, where they do, indeed, set up, with Juliet, their everlasting rest.

Notes

1. For example, V.iii.59 and I.v.70 (the adjective is used also to describe Tybalt); III.v.114 and I.v.66 (the adjective is used also to describe Juliet and Petruchio). Citations to the Globe text.

2. For example, I.ii.16 and I.iv.13. Honesty requires the admission that both Mercutio and Tybalt (!) are termed “gentle” also; one would wish to argue that these were special cases.

3. For example, I.iii.77 and III.ii.73; III.v.222 and III.ii.74.

4. The dialogue between the exit of Paris and the entry of Romeo consists of two parts: lines 96-101, conversation between the Nurse and the Musicians; lines 102-150, conversation between the Musicians and Peter (Will Kemp). At line 95.1, Q2 (representing Shakespeare's foul papers) reads “Exeunt manet.,” and Q1 (representing a performance) reads “all but the Nurse goe foorth.” At line 101.1-2, Q2 reads “Exit omnes. Enter Will Kemp.,” and Q1 reads “Enters Servingman” (with an “Exit.” for the Nurse after line 99). Dover Wilson suggested that the latter section might have been added later “to give Kemp an extra piece of ‘fat’” (edn. [1955], p. 209). The Q2 “Exit omnes” after line 101 intimates strongly that at one stage of the writing Shakespeare intended to conclude the scene at this point—without benefit of Kemp. But Will Kemp entered, and the scene went on. The fact that in Q2 the prefixes for the Musicians change from “Musi.” and “Fid.” in lines 96-101 to “Minstrel” (or some form of the word) and “Fidler.” in lines 102-150 suggests that the latter section represents a stage of composition different from that of the earlier section; and the presence of the name “Will Kemp” where we should expect “Peter” perhaps indicates the cause or the causer of the addition.

   The present text provides an interlude of 55 lines between the exit of Paris (IV.v.95) and the entry of Romeo (V.i.1), an interruption sufficient to nullify any sense of a significant contrast; Shakespeare's original intention was almost certainly to bring Romeo on stage six lines after Paris had left, following the brief and pathetic exchange between the Nurse and the Musicians, an interruption the same length as that in I.ii. It is easy to understand how Kemp might have insisted on speaking more than had originally been set down for him, and how Shakespeare—reluctantly, we may imagine—allowed him to laugh even though a necessary juxtaposition of the rival suitors was then to be considered.

5. We must certainly assume that Paris is present at the feast though he is not mentioned in direction or dialogue.

6. A small point, but perhaps worth comment: Paris' attendant is called ‘boy’; Romeo's attendant is called ‘man’ (V.iii.168,182).

7. This reconciliatory hand clasp of the rival lovers before Juliet's death bed anticipates the hand clasp of the greater reconciliation (l. 296) that brings peace to Verona and quiet to her streets.

   We may suppose that when Paris threatens Romeo, he lays down his flowers and sweet water and draws his sword. Such a gesture is a gesture of manhood, a maturing that is indicated also in the sternness of Paris' speeches to Romeo. If Paris draws his sword, then he and Romeo are for the first time similarly equipped and armed. Paris too, then, suddenly, becomes a man and, in so becoming, dies.