Act I Scene 2 lines 47-108 One fairer than my love!

the all-seeing sun 95

Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO. Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
BENVOLIO Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
BENVOLIO Tut, man, one fire burns out another's Herself poised with herself in either eye:
burning, But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Your lady's love against some other maid 100
Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; That I will show you shining at this feast,
One desperate grief cures with another's languish: 50 And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
Take thou some new infection to thy eye, ROMEO I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
And the rank poison of the old will die. But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
ROMEO Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. Exeunt
BENVOLIO For what, I pray thee?
ROMEO For your broken shin. 55
BENVOLIO Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
ROMEO 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.
Servant God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? 60
ROMEO Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
Servant Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I
pray, can you read any thing you see?
ROMEO Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
Servant Ye say honestly: rest you merry! 65
ROMEO 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 70
uncle Capulet, 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?
Servant Up. 75
ROMEO Whither?
Servant To supper; to our house.
ROMEO Whose house?
Servant My master's.
ROMEO Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
80
Servant Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is
the
great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house
of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.
Rest you merry!
Exit
BENVOLIO At this same ancient feast of Capulet's 85
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. 90
ROMEO 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!
ACT I SCENE III A room in Capulet's house. A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse. A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
LADY CAPULET Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth 'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? 60
to me. Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
Nurse Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'
I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! JULIET And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! 5 Nurse Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
Enter JULIET. Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: 65
JULIET How now! who calls? An I might live to see thee married once,
Nurse Your mother. I have my wish.
JULIET Madam, I am here. LADY CAPULET Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
What is your will? I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
LADY CAPULET This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave How stands your disposition to be married? 70
awhile, 10 JULIET It is an honour that I dream not of.
We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; Nurse An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. LADY CAPULET Well, think of marriage now; younger than
Nurse Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. you,
LADY CAPULET She's not fourteen. 15 Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, 75
Nurse I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- Are made already mothers: by my count,
And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- I was your mother much upon these years
She is not fourteen. How long is it now That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
To Lammas-tide? The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
LADY CAPULET A fortnight and odd days. 20 Nurse A man, young lady! lady, such a man 80
Nurse Even or odd, of all days in the year, As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.
Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. LADY CAPULET Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- Nurse Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; LADY CAPULET What say you? can you love the
She was too good for me: but, as I said, 25 gentleman?
On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; This night you shall behold him at our feast; 85
That shall she, marry; I remember it well. Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- Examine every married lineament,
Of all the days of the year, upon that day: 30 And see how one another lends content
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, And what obscured in this fair volume lies 90
Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; Find written in the margent of his eyes.
My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple 35 The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, For fair without the fair within to hide: 95
To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
To bid me trudge: So shall you share all that he doth possess,
And since that time it is eleven years; 40 By having him, making yourself no less.
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, Nurse No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. 100
She could have run and waddled all about; LADY CAPULET Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
For even the day before, she broke her brow: JULIET I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
And then my husband--God be with his soul! But no more deep will I endart mine eye
A' was a merry man--took up the child: 45 Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? Enter a Servant.
Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; Servant Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you
Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, 105
The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in
To see, now, how a jest shall come about! 50 the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must
I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; LADY CAPULET We follow thee.
And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' Exit Servant.
LADY CAPULET Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy Juliet, the county stays. 110
peace. Nurse Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
Nurse Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, 55 Exeunt
To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
 such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
MERCUTIO That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
ACT II SCENE IV A street. constrains a man to bow in the hams. 55
Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO. ROMEO Meaning, to court'sy.
MERCUTIO Where the devil should this Romeo be? MERCUTIO Thou hast most kindly hit it.
Came he not home to-night? ROMEO A most courteous exposition.
BENVOLIO Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. MERCUTIO Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
MERCUTIO Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that ROMEO Pink for flower. 60
Rosaline. 5 MERCUTIO Right.
Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. ROMEO Why, then is my pump well flowered.
BENVOLIO Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, MERCUTIO Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
Hath sent a letter to his father's house. worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
MERCUTIO A challenge, on my life. is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
BENVOLIO Romeo will answer it. 10 65
MERCUTIO Any man that can write may answer a letter. ROMEO O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
BENVOLIO Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he singleness.
dares, being dared. MERCUTIO Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits
MERCUTIO Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed faint.
with a ROMEO Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a
white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a 15 match.
love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the MERCUTIO Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to 70
encounter Tybalt? done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
BENVOLIO Why, what is Tybalt? thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
MERCUTIO More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is was I with you there for the goose?
20 ROMEO Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou
the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as wast
you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and not there for the goose. 75
proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and MERCUTIO I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk ROMEO Nay, good goose, bite not.
button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the 25 MERCUTIO Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
very first house, of the first and second cause: sharp sauce.
ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the ROMEO And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? 80
hai! MERCUTIO O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
BENVOLIO The what? inch narrow to an ell broad!
MERCUTIO The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting 30 ROMEO I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added
fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good MERCUTIO Why, is not this better now than groaning for
whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, love? 85
grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these 35 thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
bones, their bones! BENVOLIO Stop there, stop there. 90
Enter ROMEO. MERCUTIO Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the
BENVOLIO Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. hair.
MERCUTIO Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, BENVOLIO Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
flesh, 40 MERCUTIO O, thou art deceived; I would have made it
how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers short:
that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. 95
be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; ROMEO Here's goodly gear!
Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey 45
eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
fairly last night.
ROMEO Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I
give you? 50
MERCUTIO The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
ROMEO Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and
in
ACT II SCENE IV A street. but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into
a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
Nurse God ye good morrow, gentlemen. kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman 160
MERCUTIO God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. 105 is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
Nurse Is it good den? with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered
MERCUTIO 'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
dial is now upon the prick of noon. ROMEO Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I
Nurse Out upon you! what a man are you! protest unto thee-- 165
ROMEO One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself Nurse Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:
to 110 Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
mar. ROMEO What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark
Nurse By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' me.
quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I Nurse I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
may find the young Romeo? I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. 170
ROMEO I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when ROMEO Bid her devise
115 Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
you have found him than he was when you sought him: And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse You say well. Nurse No truly sir; not a penny. 175
MERCUTIO Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; ROMEO Go to; I say you shall.
wisely, wisely. 120 Nurse This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
Nurse if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with ROMEO And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
you. Within this hour my man shall be with thee
BENVOLIO She will indite him to some supper. And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; 180
MERCUTIO A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
ROMEO What hast thou found? 125 Must be my convoy in the secret night.
MERCUTIO No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:
that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
Sings Nurse Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. 185
An old hare hoar, ROMEO What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
And an old hare hoar, Nurse Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
Is very good meat in lent 130 Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
But a hare that is hoar ROMEO I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
Is too much for a score, NURSE Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord,
When it hoars ere it be spent. 190
Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there
to dinner, thither. 135 is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
ROMEO I will follow you. lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
MERCUTIO Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her
Singing sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer 195
'lady, lady, lady.' man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
Nurse Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? 140 ROMEO Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
ROMEO A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, Nurse Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for 200
and will speak more in a minute than he will stand the--No; I know it begins with some other
to in a month. letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of
Nurse An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such 145 to hear it.
Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. ROMEO Commend me to thy lady. 205
Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am Nurse Ay, a thousand times.
none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by Exit Romeo.
too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? Peter!
PETER I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon PETER Anon!
150 Nurse Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
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.
Nurse Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about
me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: 155
and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you
out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:
 Nurse Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a
ACT II SCENE V Capulet's orchard. courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I
Enter JULIET. warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?
JULIET The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; JULIET Where is my mother! why, she is within; 60
In half an hour she promised to return. Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. 'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, 5 Where is your mother?'
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Nurse O God's lady dear!
Driving back shadows over louring hills: Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; 65
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill 10 JULIET Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve Nurse Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Is three long hours, yet she is not come. JULIET I have. 70
Had she affections and warm youthful blood, Nurse Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
She would be as swift in motion as a ball; There stays a husband to make you a wife:
My words would bandy her to my sweet love, 15 Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
And his to me: They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Hie you to church; I must another way, 75
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
O God, she comes! Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
Enter Nurse and PETER. I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
O honey nurse, what news? 20 But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. 80
Nurse Peter, stay at the gate. JULIET Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
Exit PETER. Exeunt
JULIET Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou
sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news 25
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
Nurse I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
JULIET I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. 30
Nurse Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
JULIET How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay 35
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
Nurse Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not
40
how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his
face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels
all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
though they be not to be talked on, yet they are
past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, 45
but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?
JULIET No, no: but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Nurse Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! 50
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back!
Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
JULIET I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. 55
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
 FRIAR LAURENCE I'll give thee armour to keep off that
ACT III SCENE III Friar Laurence's cell. word:
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
FRIAR LAURENCE Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
fearful man: ROMEO Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, 60
And thou art wedded to calamity. Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
Enter ROMEO It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
ROMEO Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? 5 FRIAR LAURENCE O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, ROMEO How should they, when that wise men have no
That I yet know not? eyes?
FRIAR LAURENCE Too familiar FRIAR LAURENCE Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Is my dear son with such sour company: 65
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. 10 ROMEO Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
ROMEO What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
FRIAR LAURENCE A gentler judgment vanish'd from his An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
lips, Doting like me and like me banished,
Not body's death, but body's banishment. Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, 70
ROMEO Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
For exile hath more terror in his look, 15 Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' Knocking within
FRIAR LAURENCE Hence from Verona art thou banished: FRIAR LAURENCE Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. thyself.
ROMEO There is no world without Verona walls, ROMEO Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself. 20 Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. 75
Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, Knocking
And world's exile is death: then banished, FRIAR LAURENCE Hark, how they knock! Who's there?
Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, Romeo, arise;
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;
And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. 25 Knocking
FRIAR LAURENCE O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Run to my study. By and by! God's will,
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, What simpleness is this! I come, I come!
Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, Knocking
And turn'd that black word death to banishment: Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. 30 80
ROMEO 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, Nurse Within
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog my errand;
And little mouse, every unworthy thing, I come from Lady Juliet.
Live here in heaven and may look on her; FRIAR LAURENCE Welcome, then.
But Romeo may not: more validity, 35 Enter Nurse
More honourable state, more courtship lives Nurse O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? 85
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand FRIAR LAURENCE There on the ground, with his own tears
And steal immortal blessing from her lips, made drunk.
Who even in pure and vestal modesty, 40
Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
But Romeo may not; he is banished:
Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
They are free men, but I am banished.
And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? 45
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, 50
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
FRIAR LAURENCE Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak
a word.
ROMEO O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. 55
ACT III SCENE IV A room in Capulet's house.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS
CAPULET Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,
That we have had no time to move our daughter:
Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. 5
'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
PARIS These times of woe afford no time to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. 10
LADY CAPULET I will, and know her mind early to-
morrow;
To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
CAPULET Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled
In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. 15
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--
But, soft! what day is this?
PARIS Monday, my lord, 20
CAPULET Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; 25
For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much:
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? 30
PARIS My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
CAPULET Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then.
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! 35
Afore me! it is so very very late,
That we may call it early by and by.
Good night.
ACT III SCENE V Capulet's orchard. 1-68 Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window ROMEO And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! 60
JULIET Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: Exit
It was the nightingale, and not the lark, JULIET O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: 5 That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
ROMEO It was the lark, the herald of the morn, But send him back. 65
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks LADY CAPULET Within
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: JULIET Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 10 Is she not down so late, or up so early?
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
JULIET Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, 15
And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
ROMEO Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 20
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
I have more care to stay than will to go:
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. 25
How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.
JULIET It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
Some say the lark makes sweet division; 30
This doth not so, for she divideth us:
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
O, now I would they had changed voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, 35
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
ROMEO More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!
Enter Nurse, to the chamber
Nurse Madam!
JULIET Nurse?
Nurse Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: 40
The day is broke; be wary, look about.
Exit
JULIET Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
ROMEO Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
He goeth down
JULIET Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!
I must hear from thee every day in the hour, 45
For in a minute there are many days:
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!
ROMEO Farewell!
I will omit no opportunity 50
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
JULIET O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
ROMEO I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
JULIET O God, I have an ill-divining soul! 55
Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
ACT III SCENE V Capulet's orchard. He shall not make me there a joyful bride. 120
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Enter LADY CAPULET Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
LADY CAPULET Why, how now, Juliet! I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
JULIET Madam, I am not well. 70 I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
LADY CAPULET Evermore weeping for your cousin's It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, 125
death? Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? LADY CAPULET Here comes your father; tell him so
An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; yourself,
Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; And see how he will take it at your hands.
But much of grief shows still some want of wit. 75
JULIET Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
LADY CAPULET So shall you feel the loss, but not the
friend
Which you weep for.
JULIET Feeling so the loss,
Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. 80
LADY CAPULET Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for
his death,
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
JULIET What villain madam?
LADY CAPULET That same villain, Romeo.
JULIET Aside
God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; 85
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
LADY CAPULET That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
JULIET Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
LADY CAPULET We will have vengeance for it, fear thou
not: 90
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. 95
JULIET Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--
Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it; 100
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
To wreak the love I bore my cousin
Upon his body that slaughter'd him! 105
LADY CAPULET Find thou the means, and I'll find such a
man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
JULIET And joy comes well in such a needy time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
LADY CAPULET Well, well, thou hast a careful father,
child; 110
One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.
JULIET Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
LADY CAPULET Marry, my child, early next Thursday
morn, 115
The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
JULIET Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
ACT III SCENE V Capulet's orchard. Alone, in company, still my care hath been
lines 131-215 To have her match'd: and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
CAPULET When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
But for the sunset of my brother's son 130 Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, 190
It rains downright. Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? And then to have a wretched puling fool,
Evermore showering? In one little body A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, 135 I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' 195
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; Graze where you will you shall not house with me:
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Without a sudden calm, will overset Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! 140 An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; 200
Have you deliver'd to her our decree? And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
LADY CAPULET Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you the streets,
thanks. For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
I would the fool were married to her grave! Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
CAPULET Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. 205
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? 145 Exit
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, JULIET Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought That sees into the bottom of my grief?
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
JULIET Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Proud can I never be of what I hate; 150 Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed 210
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
CAPULET How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? LADY CAPULET Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, Exit
Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, 155 JULIET O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow-face! 160
LADY CAPULET Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
JULIET Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
CAPULET Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, 165
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much, 170
And that we have a curse in having her:
Out on her, hilding!
Nurse God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
CAPULET And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
175
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse I speak no treason.
CAPULET O, God ye god-den.
Nurse May not one speak?
CAPULET Peace, you mumbling fool! 180
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
For here we need it not.
LADY CAPULET You are too hot.
CAPULET God's bread! it makes me mad:
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, 185
ACT IV SCENE I Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS

FRIAR LAURENCE On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
PARIS My father Capulet will have it so;
And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
FRIAR LAURENCE You say you do not know the lady's
mind: 5
Uneven is the course, I like it not.
PARIS Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous 10
That she doth give her sorrow so much sway,
And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,
To stop the inundation of her tears;
Which, too much minded by herself alone,
May be put from her by society: 15
Now do you know the reason of this haste.
FRIAR LAURENCE Aside
Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Enter JULIET
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. 20
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 to you.
PARIS Do not deny to him that you love me. 25
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. 30
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. 35
PARIS Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd 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?
FRIAR LAURENCE My leisure serves me, pensive daughter,
now. 40
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
PARIS God shield I should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:
Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
Exit
JULIET O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, 45
Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
FRIAR LAURENCE Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits:
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county. 50
ACT IV SCENE II Hall in Capulet's house.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and
twoServingmen
CAPULET So many guests invite as here are writ.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
Second Servant You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they
can lick their fingers. 5
CAPULET How canst thou try them so?
Second Servant Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his
own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his
fingers goes not with me.
CAPULET Go, be gone. 10
Exit Second Servant
We shall be much unfurnished for this time.
What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse Ay, forsooth.
CAPULET Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. 15
Nurse See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
Enter JULIET
CAPULET How now, my headstrong! where have you been
gadding?
JULIET Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd 20
By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,
And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!
Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
CAPULET Send for the county; go tell him of this:
I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. 25
JULIET I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
CAPULET Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:
This is as't should be. Let me see the county; 30
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,
Our whole city is much bound to him.
JULIET Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments 35
As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
LADY CAPULET No, not till Thursday; there is time
enough.
CAPULET Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
Exeunt JULIET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET We shall be short in our provision:
'Tis now near night. 40
CAPULET Tush, I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;
I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! 45
They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
Exeunt