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  • Title: Romeo and Juliet (Modern, Quarto 2)
  • Editor: Erin Sadlack
  • ISBN: 1-55058-299-2

    Copyright Erin Sadlack. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Erin Sadlack
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Romeo and Juliet (Modern, Quarto 2)

    The Prologue.
    [Enter Chorus].Chorus
    Two households, both alike in dignity,
    0.5(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-crossed lovers take their life,
    0.10Whose misadventured piteous overthrows
    Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
    The fearful passage of their death-marked love
    And the continuance of their parents' rage,
    Which but their children's end nought could remove,
    0.15Is 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.[Exit]
    [Scene 1/I.i]
    Enter Sampson and Gregory, with swords and bucklers, of the house of Capulet.
    Sampson
    Gregory, on my word we'll not carry coals.
    Gregory
    No, for then we should be colliers.
    Sampson
    I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
    Gregory
    Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar.
    10Sampson
    I strike quickly being moved.
    Gregory
    But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
    Sampson
    A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
    Gregory
    To move is to stir, and to be valiant, is to stand. Therefore if thou art moved thou runn'st away.
    15Sampson
    A dog of that house shall move me to stand. I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montagues.
    Gregory
    That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest goes to the wall.
    Sampson
    'Tis true, and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, 20are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall.
    Gregory
    The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
    Sampson
    'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have 25fought with the men, I will be civil with the maids; I will cut off their heads.
    Gregory
    The heads of the maids.
    Sampson
    Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads, take it in what sense thou wilt.
    30Gregory
    They must take it in sense that feel it.
    Sampson
    Me they shall feel while I am able to stand, and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
    Gregory
    'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor-john. Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of 35Montagues.
    Enter two other serving men.
    Sampson
    [Draws sword.]My naked weapon is out. Quarrel, I will back thee.
    Gregory
    How? Turn thy back and run?
    Sampson
    Fear me not.
    40Gregory
    No, marry, I fear thee.
    Sampson
    Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
    Gregory
    I will frown as I pass by and let them take it as they list.
    Sampson
    Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which is disgrace to them if they bear it.
    [Bites thumb.]
    45Abraham
    Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
    Sampson
    I do bite my thumb, sir.
    Abraham
    Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
    Sampson
    [To Gregory] Is the law of our side if I say "Ay"?
    Gregory
    [To Sampson] No.
    Sampson
    [To Abraham] No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite 50my thumb, sir.
    Gregory
    Do you quarrel, sir?
    Abraham
    Quarrel, sir? No, sir.
    Sampson
    But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.
    Abraham
    No better.
    55Sampson
    Well, sir.
    Enter Benvolio.
    Gregory
    [To Sampson] Say "Better." Here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
    Sampson
    [To Abraham] Yes, better, sir.
    Abraham
    You lie.
    Sampson
    Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing 60blow.
    They fight.
    Benvolio
    [Draws sword to intervene in their fight.]Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
    Enter Tybalt.
    Tybalt
    What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? 65[Draws sword.]Turn thee, Benvolio; look upon thy death.
    Benvolio
    I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword or manage it to part these men with me.
    Tybalt
    What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word as I hate hell, all Montagues and thee. 70Have at thee, coward![They fight.]
    Enter three or four citizens with clubs or partisans.
    Officer(s)
    Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
    Enter old Capulet, in his gown, and his wife.
    75Capulet
    What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
    Capulet's Wife
    A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?
    Capulet
    My sword, I say; old Mountague is come
    And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
    Enter old Montague and his wife.
    80Montague
    [Brandishes sword.]Thou villain Capulet!-- [To Wife] hold me not; let me go.
    [She holds onto him.]
    Montague's Wife
    Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
    Enter Prince Escalus with his train.
    Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
    Profaners of this neighbor-stainèd steel--
    85Will they not hear? What, ho! [Fighters ignore him and keep fighting.]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 mistempered weapons to the ground
    90And hear the sentence of your movèd prince.[Fighters lay down weapons or sheathe swords.]
    Three civil brawls bred of an airy word,
    By thee old Capulet and Montague,
    Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets
    And made Verona's ancient citizens
    95Cast by their grave-beseeming ornaments
    To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
    Cankered with peace, to part your cankered hate.
    If ever you disturb our streets again,
    Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
    100For this time all the rest depart away.
    You, Capulet, shall go along with me.
    And Montague, come you this afternoon
    To know our farther pleasure in this case
    To old Freetown, our common judgment place.
    105Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
    Exeunt [all but Montague, his Wife, and Benvolio].
    Montague
    Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
    Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
    Benvolio
    Here were the servants of your adversary
    And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.
    110I drew to part them; in the instant came
    The fiery Tybalt with his sword prepared,
    Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
    He swung about his head and cut the winds,
    Who nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn.
    115While we were interchanging thrusts and blows
    Came more and more, and fought on part and part,
    Till the Prince came, who parted either part.
    Montague's Wife
    O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today?
    Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
    120Benvolio
    Madam, an hour before the worshiped sun
    Peered forth the golden window of the east,
    A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad,
    Where underneath the grove of sycamore,
    That westward rooteth from this city side,
    125So 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,
    Which then most sought where most might not be found.
    130Being one too many by my weary self,
    Pursued my humor, not pursuing his,
    And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.
    Montague
    Many a morning hath he there been seen
    With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew.
    135Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.
    But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
    Should in the farthest east begin to draw
    The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
    Away from light steals home my heavy son,
    140And private in his chamber pens himself,
    Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,
    And makes himself an artificial night.
    Black and portentous must this humor prove,
    Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
    145Benvolio
    My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
    Montague
    I neither know it nor can learn of him.
    Benvolio
    Have you importuned him by any means?
    Montague
    Both by my self and many other friends,
    But he, his own affections' counselor,
    150Is 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 envious worm
    Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air
    155Or dedicate his beauty to the same.
    Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
    We would as willingly give cure as know.
    Enter Romeo.
    Benvolio
    See where he comes. [Points to Romeo.]So please you, step aside.
    160I'll know his grievance or be much denied.
    Montague
    I would thou wert so happy by thy stay
    To hear true shrift.-- [To Wife] Come, madam, let's away.
    Exeunt [Montague and Wife].
    Benvolio
    Good morrow, cousin.
    Is the day so young?
    165Benvolio
    But new struck nine.
    Ay me, sad hours seem long.
    Was that my father that went hence so fast?
    Benvolio
    It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
    Not having that, which having, makes them short.
    170Benvolio
    In love?
    Out.
    Benvolio
    Of love?
    Out of her favor where I am in love.
    Benvolio
    Alas that love, so gentle in his view,
    175Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.
    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.
    180Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
    Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,
    O any thing of nothing first created!
    O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
    Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,
    185Feather 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?
    Benvolio
    No, coz, I rather weep.
    Good heart, at what?
    Benvolio
    At thy good heart's oppression.
    Why, such is love's transgression.
    Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
    Which thou wilt propagate to have it pressed
    195With more of thine; this love that thou hast shown
    Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
    Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,
    Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes,
    Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears,
    200What is it else? A madness, most discreet,
    A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
    Farewell, my coz.
    Benvolio
    Soft, I will go along
    And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
    Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here.
    This is not Romeo; he's some other where.
    Benvolio
    Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?
    What, shall I groan and tell thee?
    Benvolio
    Groan? Why, no, but sadly tell me who.
    A sick man in sadness makes his will.
    A word ill-urged to one that is so ill.
    In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
    Benvolio
    [Exasperated tone.]I aimed so near, when I supposed you loved.
    A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.
    215Benvolio
    A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
    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 armed,
    From love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed.
    220She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
    Nor bide th'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.
    225Benvolio
    Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
    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
    230To 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.
    Benvolio
    Be ruled by me; forget to think of her.
    O, teach me how I should forget to think.
    235Benvolio
    By giving liberty unto thine eyes.
    Examine other beauties.
    'Tis the way to call hers--exquisite--in question more;
    These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,
    Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair.
    240He 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 passed that passing fair?
    245Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.
    Benvolio
    I'll pay that doctrine or else die in debt.
    Exeunt.
    [Scene 2/I.ii]
    Enter Capulet, County Paris, and the Serving-man.
    Capulet
    But Montague is bound as well as I,
    In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard, I think,
    250For men so old as we to keep the peace.
    Of honorable reckoning are you both,
    And pity 'tis, you lived at odds so long.
    But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
    Capulet
    But saying o'er what I have said before:
    255My 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.
    Younger than she are happy mothers made.
    260Capulet
    And too soon marred are those so early made.
    Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,
    She's the hopeful lady of my earth.
    But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart.
    My will to her consent is but a part,
    265And, she agreed, within her scope of choice
    Lies my consent. and fair according voice.
    This night I hold an old accustomed feast
    Whereto I have invited many a guest,
    Such as I love, and you among the store,
    270One 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-appareled April on the heel
    275Of limping winter treads, even such delight
    Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night
    Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,
    And like her most whose merit most shall be,
    Which one more view of many, mine being one,
    280May stand in number, though in reck'ning none.
    Come, go with me.-- [To Serving-man] Go, sirrah, trudge about
    [Gives him list.]
    Through fair Verona. Find those persons out
    Whose names are written there, and to them say
    My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
    Exit [Capulet and Paris].
    285Serving-man
    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 290hath here writ. I must to the learned. In good time!
    Enter Benvolio and Romeo.
    Benvolio
    Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning.
    One pain is lessened by another's anguish.
    295Turn giddy, and be helped 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.
    Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.
    300Benvolio
    For what, I pray thee?
    For your broken shin.
    [Kicks Benvolio.]
    Benvolio
    Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
    Not mad, but bound more than a madman is.
    Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
    305Whipped and tormented, and -- [Serving-man approaches them.][To Serving-man] God-den, good fellow.
    Serving-man
    God gi'god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?[Holds out letter to Romeo.]
    Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
    Serving-man
    Perhaps you have learned it without book. But I pray, can you read any thing you see?
    Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
    Serving-man
    Ye say honestly; rest you merry.
    Stay, fellow, I can read. [Takes letter.]
    He reads the letter.
    "Signor Martino and his wife and daughters, County Anselme 315and his beautious sisters, the lady widow of Utruvio, Signor Placentio and his lovely nieces, Mercutio and his brother Valentine, mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters, my fair niece Rosaline, Livia, Signor Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena."
    320A fair assembly. Whither should they come?
    Serving-man
    Up.
    Whither? To supper?
    Serving-man
    To our house.
    Whose house?
    325Serving-man
    My master's.
    Indeed, I should have asked you that before.
    Serving-man
    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 Serving-man.
    Benvolio
    At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
    Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so loves,
    With all the admired beauties of Verona.
    Go thither, and with unattainted eye
    335Compare her face with some that I shall show,
    And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
    When the devout religion of mine eye
    Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire,
    And these who, often drowned, could never die,
    340Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars.
    One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun
    Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
    Benvolio
    Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by.
    Herself poised with herself in either eye.
    345But in that crystal scales let there be weighed
    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 seems best.
    I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
    350But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.[Exeunt Benvolio and Romeo.]
    [Scene 3/I.iii]
    Enter Capulet's Wife and Nurse.
    Capulet's Wife
    Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.
    Now by my maidenhead, at twelve year old I bade her come.-- [To Juliet]
    [Calls loudly]What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid, 355where's this girl? What, Juliet!
    Enter Juliet.
    How now, who calls?
    Your mother.
    Madam, I am here. What is your will?
    360Capulet's Wife
    This is the matter. Nurse, give leave a while; we must talk in secret. [Nurse starts to leave.]Nurse, come back again. I have remembered me; thou's hear our counsel. Thou knowest my daughter's of a pretty age.
    Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
    365Capulet's Wife
    She's not fourteen.
    I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, and yet, to my teen be it spoken, I have but four, she's not fourteen. How long is it now to Lammas-tide?
    370Capulet's Wife
    A fortnight and odd days.
    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 375she, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years, and she was weaned--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 dovehouse wall. My lord and 380you 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 dovehouse; 'twas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge. 385And since that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand high-lone, nay, by th'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 390thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit, wilt thou not, Jule?" And by my holydam, 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 395not, Jule?" quoth he, and, pretty fool, it stinted, and said "Ay."
    Capulet's Wife
    Enough of this; I pray thee hold thy peace.
    Yes, Madam, yet I can not choose but laugh, to think it should leave crying, and say "Ay," and yet I warrant it had upon its brow, a 400bump as big as a young cockerel's stone, a perilous 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, Jule?" It stinted, and said "Ay."
    And stint thou too, I pray thee, Nurse, say I.
    Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace, thou wast the prettiest babe that ere I nursed. An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish.
    Capulet's Wife
    Marry, that marry is the very theme
    410I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
    How stands your dispositions to be married?
    It is an hour that I dream not of.
    An hour! Were not I thine only Nurse, I would say thou hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat.
    415Capulet's Wife
    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:
    420The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
    A man, young lady, lady, such a man as all the world--why he's a man of wax.
    Capulet's Wife
    Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
    Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower.
    425Capulet's Wife
    What say you? Can you love the gentleman?
    This night you shall behold him at our feast.
    Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face
    And find delight, writ there with beauty's pen;
    Examine every married lineament
    430And 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.
    435The 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,
    440By having him, making your self no less.
    No less? Nay, bigger; women grow by men.
    Capulet's Wife
    Speak briefly; can you like of Paris' love?
    I'll look to like, if looking liking move.
    But no more deep will I endart mine eye,
    445Than your consent gives strength to make fly.
    Enter Serving-man.
    Serving-man
    Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the Nurse cursed in the pantry, and everything in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you 450follow straight.
    Capulet's Wife
    We follow thee. Juliet, the County stays.
    Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
    [Scene 4/I.iv]
    Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with five or six other
    455masquers [and] torchbearers.
    What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
    Or shall we on without apology?
    Benvolio
    The date is out of such prolixity,
    We'll have no Cupid, hoodwinked with a scarf,
    460Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
    Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper.
    But let them measure us by what they will,
    We'll measure them a measure and be gone.
    Give me a torch; I am not for this ambling.
    465Being but heavy I will bear the light.
    Mercutio
    Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
    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.
    470Mercutio
    You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
    And soar with them above a common bound.
    I am too sore enpiercèd with his shaft
    To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
    I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.
    475Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
    Mercutio
    And to sink in it should you burden love,
    Too great oppression for a tender thing.
    Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,
    Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
    480Mercutio
    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,[Puts on mask.]
    A visor for a visor! What care I
    What curious eye doth cote deformities?
    485Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
    Benvolio
    Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in,
    But every man betake him to his legs.
    A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart
    Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels.
    490For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase,
    I'll be a candle-holder and look on.
    The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
    Mercutio
    Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word.
    If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire,
    495Or, save your reverence, love, wherein thou stickest
    Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
    Nay, that's not so.
    Mercutio
    I mean, sir, in delay.
    We waste our lights, in vain light lights by day.
    500Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
    Five times in that ere once in our fine wits.
    And we mean well in going to this masque,
    But 'tis no wit to go.
    Mercutio
    Why, may one ask?
    I dreamt a dream tonight.
    Mercutio
    And so did I.
    Well, what was yours?
    Mercutio
    That dreamers often lie.
    In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
    510Mercutio
    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
    512.1On the forefinger of an alderman,
    Drawn with a team of little atomi
    513.1Over men's noses as they lie asleep.
    Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,
    515The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers,
    515.1Her traces of the smallest spider web,
    Her collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
    516.1Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
    Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat,
    Not half so big as a round litle worm,
    519.1Pricked from the lazy finger of a man.
    520Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,
    Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
    521.1Time out o'mind, the fairies' coachmakers.
    And in this state she gallops night by night
    Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.
    525On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight;
    525.1O'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 breath with sweetmeats tainted are.
    528.1Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
    And then dreams he of smelling out a suit, and sometime comes
    530And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,
    530.1Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
    Then he dreams of another benefice.
    531.1Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
    And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
    Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades,
    535Of healths five-fathom deep, and then anon
    535.1Drums 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
    537.1That plaits 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--
    Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,
    Thou talk'st of nothing.
    Mercutio
    True, I talk of dreams,
    Which are the children of an idle brain,
    Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
    550Which is as thin of substance as the air
    And more inconstant than the wind who woos
    Even now the frozen bosom of the north
    And, being angered, puffs away from thence,
    Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.
    555Benvolio
    This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves,
    Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
    I fear too early, for my mind misgives
    Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
    Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
    560With this night's revels, and expire the term
    Of a despisèd life closed in my breast
    By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
    But he that hath the steerage of my course
    Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen.
    565Benvolio
    Strike, drum.
    They [Romeo, Benvolio, Mercutio, and masquers] march about the stage, [as the scene shifts to inside the Capulet house] and serving men come forth with napkins [as they transition to the next scene within the Capulet house.
    [Scene 5/I.v]
    Enter [Head Serving-man.]
    Head Serving-man
    Where's Potpan that he helps not to take away?
    570He shift a trencher? He scrape a trencher?
    1 Serving-man
    When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands
    And they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
    Serving-man
    Away with the joint stools, remove the court cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane, 575and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.-- Anthony and Potpan!
    576.1[Enter two Serving-men (Anthony and Potpan?).]
    2 Serving-man
    Ay, boy, ready.
    Head Serving-man
    You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for in the great chamber.
    5803 Serving-man
    We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!
    Be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all.
    Exeunt [Serving-men].
    Enter all the guests and gentlewomen to the masquers.
    585Capulet
    Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies that have their toes
    Unplagued with corns will walk about with you.
    Ah, my mistresses, which of you all
    Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,
    590She 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.
    595You are welcome, gentlemen. Come, musicians, play.
    Music plays and they dance[except for Capulet, his cousin, and Romeo].
    A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls.--
    [To Servants] More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up
    And quench the fire. The room is grown too hot.
    600Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well.--
    [To Cousin] Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,
    For you and I are past our dancing days.
    How long is't now since last yourself and I
    Were in a masque?
    605Capulet's Cousin
    By'r lady, thirty years.
    Capulet
    What, man, 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much.
    'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
    Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,
    Some five and twenty years, and then we masqued.
    610Capulet's Cousin
    'Tis more, 'tis more. His son is elder, sir.
    His son is thirty.
    Capulet
    Will you tell me that?
    His son was but a ward two years ago.
    [To Serving-man]What lady's that which doth enrich the hand
    615Of yonder knight?
    Serving-man
    I know not, sir.
    [To himself]O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
    It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
    As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear,
    620Beauty 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 blessèd my rude hand.
    625Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight,
    For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
    This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
    [To Serving-man] Fetch me my rapier, boy. [To himself] What, dares the slave
    Come hither covered with an antic face
    630To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
    Now, by the stock and honor of my kin,
    To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
    Capulet
    Why, how now, kinsman, wherefore storm you so?
    Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
    A villain that is hither come in spite
    To scorn at our solemnity this night.
    Capulet
    Young Romeo, is it?
    'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
    640Capulet
    Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.
    'A bears him like a portly gentleman,
    And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
    To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.
    I would not for the wealth of all this town
    645Here in my house do him disparagement.
    Therefore be patient; take no note of him.
    It is my will, the which if thou respect,
    Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
    An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
    It fits when such a villain is a guest.
    I'll not endure him.
    Capulet
    He shall be endured.
    What, goodman boy, I say he shall. Go to!
    Am I the master here or you? Go to.
    655You'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?
    Why, Uncle, 'tis a shame.
    Capulet
    Go to, go to.
    660You 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.--
    [To Guests] Well said, my hearts.-- [To Tybalt] You are a princox; go,
    Be quiet, or-- [To Servants] More light, more light!-- [To Tybalt] for shame,
    665I'll make you quiet.-- [To Guests] What, cheerly, my hearts!
    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 bitt'rest gall.
    Exit.
    [To Juliet] If I prophane with my unworthiest hand [Takes her hand.]
    This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
    My lips two blushing pilgrims did ready stand
    To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
    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.
    Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?
    Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
    O, then dear saint, let lips do what hands do,
    They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
    Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
    Then move not while my prayer's effect I take.
    [Kisses Juliet.]
    Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.
    Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
    Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
    Give me my sin again.
    [They kiss again.]
    You kiss by th'book.
    Madam, your mother craves a word with you.[Juliet leaves them to speak with her mother.]
    What is her mother?
    Marry, bachelor,
    Her mother is the lady of the house,
    695And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous,
    I nursed her daughter that you talked withal.
    I tell you: he that can lay hold of her
    Shall have the chinks.
    [Aside (?)] Is she a Capulet?
    700O dear account! My life is my foe's debt.
    Benvolio
    Away, begone. The sport is at the best.
    Ay, so I fear. The more is my unrest.
    Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,
    We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
    705Is it e'en so? Why, then, I thank you all.
    I thank you, honest gentlemen, good night.--
    [To Serving-men] More torches here! Come on! Then let's to bed.
    Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;
    I'll to my rest.Romeo, Benvolio, and Mercutio join the revelers who are leaving.]
    Come hither, Nurse, what is yond gentleman?
    The son and heir of old Tiberio.
    What's he that now is going out of door?
    Marry, that I think be young Petruchio.
    What's he that follows here that would not dance?
    I know not.
    Go ask his name. [Nurse goes.] If he be married,
    My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
    [Nurse returns.]
    His name is Romeo, and a Montague,
    720The only son of your great enemy.
    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 loathèd enemy.
    What's 'tis? What's 'tis?
    A rhyme I learned even now
    Of one I danced withal.
    One calls within, "Juliet."
    [To Caller]Anon, anon.--
    730[To Juliet] Come, let's away, the strangers all are gone.
    [Scene 5.1/II.0]
    [Enter Chorus]Chorus
    Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,
    And young affection gapes to be his heir;
    735That fair for which love groaned for and would die,
    With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair.
    Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
    Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,
    But to his foe supposed he must complain,
    740And 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 belovèd anywhere.
    745But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,
    Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.[Exit]
    [Scene 6/II.i]
    Enter Romeo alone.
    Can I go forward when my heart is here?
    Turn back dull earth and find thy center out.
    750Enter Benvolio with Mercutio. [Romeo hides from them but remains onstage.]
    Benvolio
    Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!
    Mercutio
    He is wise, and on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.
    Benvolio
    He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall.
    755Call, good Mercutio:
    Nay, I'll conjure too.
    Mercutio
    Romeo! Humors! Madman! Passion! Lover!
    Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;
    Speak but one rhyme and I am satisfied:
    760Cry but "ay me"; pronounce but "love" and "dove."
    Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
    One nickname for her purblind son and heir,
    Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so true
    When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid.
    765He 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,
    770And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
    That in thy likeness thou appear to us.
    Benvolio
    An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
    Mercutio
    This cannot anger him; 'twould anger him
    To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
    775Of 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, in his mistress' name.
    I conjure only but to raise up him.
    780Benvolio
    Come, he hath hid himself among these trees
    To be consorted with the humorous night.
    Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
    Mercutio
    If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
    Now will he sit under a medlar tree
    785And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
    As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.
    O Romeo, that she were, O that she were
    An open-arse, thou a popperin' pear!
    Romeo, good night, I'll to my truckle bed,
    790This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.
    Come, shall we go?
    Benvolio
    Go then, for 'tis in vain to seek him here
    That means not to be found.
    Exit [Benvolio and Mercutio][Romeo comes forward.]
    He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
    795But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?[Juliet enters above.]
    It is the east, and Juliet 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.
    800Be 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?
    805Her 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.
    810What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
    The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
    As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven
    Would through the airy region stream so bright
    That birds would sing and think it were not night.
    815See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.[Juliet rests her face on the palm of her hand.]
    O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
    That I might touch that cheek.
    Ay me.
    [To self] She speaks.
    820O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art
    As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,
    As is a wingèd messenger of heaven
    Unto the white upturnèd wond'ring eyes
    Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
    825When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds
    And sails upon the bosom of the air.
    [To herself]O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?
    Deny thy father and refuse thy name,
    Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
    830And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
    [To self] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
    'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
    Thou art thy self, though not a Montague.
    What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,
    835Nor 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 word would smell as sweet.
    So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,
    840Retain that dear perfection which he owes
    Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
    And for thy name which is no part of thee,
    Take all myself.
    [To Juliet] I take thee at thy word.
    845Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized.
    Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
    What man art thou, that thus bescreened in night
    So stumblest on my counsel?
    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.
    My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words
    855Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.
    Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
    Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.
    How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
    860The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
    And the place death, considering who thou art,
    If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
    With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls,
    865For stony limits cannot hold love out,
    And what love can do, that dares love attempt:
    Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.
    If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
    Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
    870Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet,
    And I am proof against their enmity.
    I would not for the world they saw thee here.
    I have night's cloak to hide me from their eyes,
    And but thou love me, let them find me here.
    875My life were better ended by their hate
    Than death proroguèd wanting of thy love.
    By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
    By love that first did prompt me to inquire.
    He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
    880I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far
    As that vast shore washeth with the farthest sea,
    I should adventure for such merchandise.
    Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,
    Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
    885For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
    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,
    890Thou mayst prove false. At lover's perjuries
    They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
    If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;
    Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,
    I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
    895So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world.
    In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
    And therefore thou mayst think my behavior light,
    But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
    Than those that have more coying to be strange.
    900I should have been more strange, I must confess,
    But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
    My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,
    And not impute this yielding to light love,
    Which the dark night hath so discovered.
    Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,
    That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--
    O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon,
    That monthly changes in her circle orb,
    Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
    What shall I swear by?
    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.
    If my heart's dear love--
    Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,
    I have no joy of this contract tonight.
    It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,
    Too like the lightning which doth cease to be
    920Ere one can say, "It lightens." Sweet, good night.
    This bud of love by summer's ripening breath
    May prove a beautious flower when next we meet.
    Good night, good night. As sweet repose and rest
    Come to thy heart as that within my breast.
    O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
    What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?
    Th'exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
    I gave thee mine before thou didst request it,
    And yet I would it were to give again.
    Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?
    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,
    935My love as deep; the more I give to thee
    The more I have, for both are infinite.
    I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.--
    [To Nurse] Anon, good Nurse!--[To Romeo] Sweet Montague, be true.
    940Stay but a little; I will come again.
    O blessèd, blessèd night! I am afeard,
    Being in night, all this is but a dream,
    Too flattering sweet to be substantial.
    Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
    If that thy bent of love be honorable,
    Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow,
    By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
    Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite,
    950And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
    And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world--
    [Calls from offstage]Madam.
    [To Nurse]I come, anon!--[To Romeo] But if thou meanest not well,
    I do beseech thee--[To Nurse] By and by I come!--
    954.1Nurse[Calls from offstage]Madam!
    Juliet[To Romeo] To cease thy strife, and leave me to my grief.
    Tomorrow will I send.
    So thrive my soul.
    A thousand times good night.
    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.
    [Romeo starts to leave.]
    Enter Juliet again.
    Hist, Romeo, hist! O for a falc'ner's voice
    965To 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 "Romeo."
    [Romeo returns to her.]
    It is my soul that calls upon my name.
    How silver sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
    Like softest music to attending ears.
    Romeo.
    My niesse?
    What o'clock tomorrow
    Shall I send to thee?
    By the hour of nine.
    I will not fail; 'tis twenty year till then.
    I have forgot why I did call thee back.
    Let me stand here till thou remember it.
    I shall forget to have thee still stand there,
    Rememb'ring how I love thy company.
    And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
    Forgetting any other home but this.
    'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone,
    And yet no farther then a wanton's bird,
    That lets it hop a little from his hand,
    Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
    And with a silken thread, plucks it back again,
    990So loving-jealous of his liberty.
    I would I were thy bird.
    Sweet, so would I,
    Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
    Good night, good night.
    995Parting is such sweet sorrow
    That I shall say "good night" till it be morrow.
    Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast.
    [Exit Juliet.]
    Would I were sleep and peace so sweet to rest.
    Hence will I to my ghostly Friar's close cell,
    His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
    [Scene 7/II.ii]
    1005Enter Friar alone with a basket.
    Friar Laurence
    The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
    Check'ring the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
    And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels
    From forth day's path, and Titan's burning wheels.
    1010Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
    The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
    I must upfill this osier cage of ours
    With baleful weeds and precious-juicèd flowers.
    The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
    1015What is her burying grave, that is her womb,
    And from her womb children of diverse kind
    We sucking on her natural bosom find
    Many for many virtues excellent,
    None but for some, and yet all different.
    1020O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
    In plants, herbs, 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 ought so good but strained from that fair use,
    1025Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.
    Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied,
    And vice sometime by action dignified.
    Enter Romeo.
    Within the infant rind of this weak flower
    1030Poison hath residence and medicine power,
    For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part,
    Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart.
    Two such opposèd kings encamp them still
    In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will,
    1035And where the worser is predominant,
    Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
    Good morrow, father.
    Friar Laurence
    Benedicite!
    What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
    1040Young son, it argues a distempered 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 unstuffed brain
    1045Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.
    Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
    Thou art uproused with some distemp'rature,
    Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
    Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.
    That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
    Friar Laurence
    God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?
    With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No,
    I have forgot that name and that name's woe.
    Friar Laurence
    That's my good son, but where hast thou been then?
    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.
    1060I bear no hatred, blessèd man, for lo
    My intercession likewise steads my foe.
    Friar Laurence
    Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
    Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
    Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
    1065On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;
    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 wooed, and made exchange of vow,
    1070I'll tell thee as we pass, but this I pray,
    That thou consent to marry us today.
    Friar Laurence
    Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
    Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
    So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies
    1075Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
    Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
    Hath washed thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
    How much salt water thrown away in waste
    To season love that of it doth not taste.
    1080The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears
    Thy old groans yet ringing in mine ancient ears:
    Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
    Of an old tear that is not washed off yet.
    If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
    1085Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.
    And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then:
    Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
    Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
    Friar Laurence
    For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
    And bad'st me bury love.
    Friar Laurence
    Not in a grave,
    To lay one in, another out to have.
    I pray thee, chide me not. Her I love now
    Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.
    1095The other did not so.
    Friar Laurence
    O, she knew well,
    Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
    But come, young waverer, come, go with me.
    In one respect I'll thy assistant be:
    1100For this alliance may so happy prove
    To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
    O, let us hence, I stand on sudden haste.
    Friar Laurence
    Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.
    [Scene 8/II.iii]
    1105Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.
    Mercutio
    Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home tonight?
    Benvolio
    Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
    Mercutio
    Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, 1110Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
    Benvolio
    Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his father's house.
    Mercutio
    A challenge, on my life.
    Benvolio
    Romeo will answer it.
    1115Mercutio
    Any man that can write may answer a letter.
    Nay, he will answer the letter's master how he dares, being dared.
    Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a white wench's black eye, run through the ear with a love 1120song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
    Why, what is Tybalt?
    More than Prince of Cats. O, he's the courageous 1125captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance and proportion; he rests his minum rests, 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 1130reverso, the hay!
    The what?
    The pox of such antic lisping affecting fantasticos, these new tuners of accent! By Jesu, a very good blade, a very tall man, a very good whore! Why, is not this a lamentable thing, 1135grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these "pardon-me"'s, who stand so much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench. O, their bones, their bones!
    1140Enter Romeo.
    Here comes Romeo; here comes Romeo!
    Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in. Laura to his lady was a kitchen wench--marry, 1145she had a better love to berhyme her--Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a gray eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signor Romeo, bonjour, there's a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
    Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
    The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?
    Pardon, good Mercutio,my business was great, and in 1155such a case as mine, a man may strain courtesy.
    That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
    Meaning, to curtsy.
    Thou hast most kindly hit it.
    A most courteous exposition.
    Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
    Pink for flower.
    Right.
    Why, then is my pump well flowered.
    Sure wit, 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, solely singular.
    O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!
    Come between us, good Benvolio, my wits faints.
    Switch and spurs, switch and spurs, or I'll cry a match.
    Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, I am done. 1175For 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?
    Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not there for the goose.
    I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
    Nay, good goose, bite not.
    Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
    And is it not then well served into a sweet goose?
    O, here's a wit of cheverel, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad.
    I stretch it out for that word "broad," which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
    Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now 1190art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature, for this driveling love is like a great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
    Stop there, stop there.
    Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair?
    Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
    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.
    Here's goodly gear. Enter Nurse and her man, Peter.
    A sail, a sail!
    Two, two! A shirt and a smock.
    Peter!
    Anon.
    My fan, Peter.
    Good Peter, to hide her face, for her fan's the fairer face.
    [To Romeo, Benvolio, and Mercutio]God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
    God ye good e'en, fair gentlewoman.
    Is it good e'en?
    'Tis no less I tell ye, for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon.
    Out upon you! What a man are you?
    One, gentlewoman, that God hath made, himself to mar.
    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 Romeo?
    I can tell you, but young Romeo 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.
    You say well.
    Yea, is the worst well? Very well took, i'faith, wisely, wisely.
    If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
    She will indite him to some supper.
    A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
    What hast thou found?
    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.
    1235But a hare that is hoar is too much for a score
    When it hoars ere it be spent.
    Romeo, will you come to your father's? We'll to dinner thither.
    I will follow you.
    Farewell, ancient lady, farewell lady, [sings] "lady, lady."
    Exeunt [Mercutio and Benvolio].
    I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was so full of his ropery?
    A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
    And 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks, and if I 1250cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave, I am none of his flirt gills, I am none of his skains-mates.--[To Peter] And thou must stand by too and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
    I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon 1255should 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.
    Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! [To Romeo]Pray you, sir, a word. And as I told you, 1260my young lady bid me inquire you out; what she bid me say, I will keep to myself, but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her in 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 1265thing to be offered to any gentlewoman and very weak dealing.
    Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress, I protest unto thee.
    Good heart, and i'faith I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord, 1270she will be a joyful woman.
    What wilt thou tell her, Nurse? Thou dost not mark me.
    I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
    Bid her devise some means to come to shrift this afternoon,
    And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
    Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
    [Offers her money.]
    No. Truly, sir, not a penny.
    Go to, I say you shall.[Nurse accepts the money.]
    This afternoon, sir? Well, she shall be there.
    And stay, good Nurse, 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 topgallant of my joy
    1285Must be my convoy in the secret night.
    Farewell, be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.
    Farewell, commend me to thy mistress.
    Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
    What sayst thou, my dear Nurse?
    Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say: "Two may keep counsel, putting one away"?
    Warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
    Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, Lord, when 'twas a litle prating thing.--O, there is a nobleman in town, 1295one Paris, 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 Paris is the properer man, but I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a 1300letter?
    Ay, Nurse, what of that? Both with an R.
    A mocker! That's the dog's name. R is for the--no, I know it begins with some other letter--and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good 1305to hear it.
    Commend me to thy lady.[Exit Romeo]
    Ay, a thousand times.--[To Peter] Peter.
    Anon.
    Before and apace.
    [Scene 9/II.iv]
    1310Enter Juliet.
    The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse;
    In half an hour she promised to return.
    Perchance she cannot meet him? That's not so.
    O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts,
    1315Which ten times faster glides than the sun's beams,
    Driving back shadows over louring hills.
    Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw love,
    And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
    Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
    1320Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
    Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
    Had she affections and warm youthful blood
    She would be as swift in motion as a ball.
    My words would bandy her to my sweet love
    1325And his to me, but old folks, many feign as they were dead:
    Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.
    Enter Nurse[and Peter].
    O God, she comes! O, honey Nurse, what news?
    1330Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
    [To Peter] Peter, stay at the gate.[Exit Peter].
    Now, good sweet Nurse, O Lord, why lookest thou sad?
    Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily.
    1335If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
    By playing it to me with so sour a face.
    I am aweary; give me leave a while.
    Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I!
    I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news.
    1340Nay, come! I pray thee speak. Good, good Nurse, speak.
    Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay a while?
    Do you not see that I am out of breath?
    How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath
    To say to me that thou art out of breath?
    1345The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
    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?
    Well, you have made a simple choice. You know not 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, but I'll 1355warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench, serve God. What, have you dined at home?
    No, no. But all this did I know before.
    What says he of our marriage? What of that?
    Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!
    1360It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
    My back a't'other side. Ah, my back, my back.
    Beshrew your heart for sending me about
    To catch my death with jauncing up and down.
    I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
    1365Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?
    Your love says like an honest gentleman
    And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,
    And, I warrant, a virtuous--Where is your mother?
    Where is my mother? Why, she is within. Where should she be?
    How oddly thou repliest!
    Your love says like an honest gentleman;
    Where is your mother?
    O God's lady dear,
    1375Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow,
    Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
    Henceforward do your messages yourself.
    Here's such a coil. Come, what says Romeo?
    Have you got leave to go to shrift today?
    I have.
    Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell.
    There stays a husband to make you a wife.
    Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks;
    They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
    1385Hie you to church; I must another way
    To fetch a ladder by the which your love
    Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark.
    I am the drudge and toil in your delight.
    But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
    1390Go. I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
    Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.
    Exeunt.
    [Scene 10/II.v]
    Enter Friar and Romeo.
    Friar Laurence
    So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
    That, after-hours, with sorrow chide us not.
    Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,
    It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
    That one short minute gives me in her sight.
    Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
    Then love-devouring death do what he dare.
    1400It is enough I may but call her mine.
    Friar Laurence
    These violent delights have violent ends
    And in their triumph die like fire and powder,
    Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey
    Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
    1405And in the taste confounds the appetite.
    Therefore love moderately; long love doth so.
    Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
    Enter Juliet.
    Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot
    1410Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.
    A lover may bestride the gossamers
    That idles in the wanton summer air
    And yet not fall, so light is vanity.
    Good even to my ghostly confessor.
    1415Friar Laurence
    Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
    As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
    Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
    Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more
    To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
    1420This neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue
    Unfold the imagined happiness that both
    Receive in either by this dear encounter.
    Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
    Brags of his substance, not of ornament.
    1425They are but beggars that can count their worth,
    But my true love is grown to such excess,
    I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
    Friar Laurence
    Come, come with me, and we will make short work.
    For by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
    1430Till holy church incorporate two in one.
    [Scene 11/III.i]
    Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, and men.
    Benvolio
    I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.
    The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,
    And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl, for now these hot
    1435days, is the mad blood stirring.
    Mercutio
    Thou art like one of these fellows, that when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table and says, "God send me no need of thee" and by the operation of the second cup, draws him on the drawer, when indeed there 1440is no need.
    Benvolio
    Am I like such a fellow?
    Mercutio
    Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.
    1445Benvolio
    And what to?
    Nay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? Why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking 1450nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he 1455hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter, with another for tying his new shoes with old ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling?
    An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
    The fee-simple? O, simple!
    1465Enter Tybalt, Petruchio, and others.
    By my head, here comes the Capulets.
    By my heel, I care not.
    [To Companions] Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
    [To Mercutio and Benvolio] Gentlemen, good e'en, a word with one of you.
    And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.
    You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion.
    Could you not take some occasion without 1475giving?
    Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.
    Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick[Draws sword.]; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, 1480consort!
    [Points to his sword.]
    We talk here in the public haunt of men.
    Either withdraw unto some private place,
    Or reason coldly of your grievances,
    Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.
    Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.
    I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
    Enter Romeo.
    Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.
    But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.
    1490Marry, go before to field; he'll be your follower,
    Your worship in that sense may call him "man."
    Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford
    No better term than this: thou art a villain.
    Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
    1495Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
    To such a greeting: villain am I none.
    Therefore, farewell, I see thou knowest me not.
    Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
    That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.
    I do protest I never injured thee,
    But love thee better than thou canst devise
    Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.
    And so, good Capulet, which name I tender
    As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.
    O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!
    Alla stucatho carries it away.
    Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?
    What wouldst thou have with me?
    Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives,
    1510that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me
    hereafter dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your
    sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be
    about your ears ere it be out.
    I am for you.
    [They draw and fight.]
    Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
    Come sir, your passado.
    Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons.
    [Draws his sword to intervene.]
    Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
    Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
    1520Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
    Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!
    1521.1[Tybalt stabs Mercutio under Romeo's arm.]
    Away Tybalt.
    [Fatally wounded.]I am hurt.
    A plague a both houses! I am sped.
    1525Is he gone and hath nothing?
    What, art thou hurt?
    Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry 'tis enough,
    Where is my page?--[To Page] Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
    Courage, man, the hurt cannot be much.
    No 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church
    door, but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you
    shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this
    world. A plague a both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse,
    a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain
    1535that fights by the book of arithmatic! Why the devil came you
    between us? I was hurt under your arm.
    I thought all for the best.
    Help me into some house, Benvolio,
    1540Or I shall faint. A plague a both your houses!
    They have made worms' meat of me.
    I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!
    Exit.[Benvolio assists Mercutio.]
    This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,
    My very friend hath got this mortal hurt
    1545In my behalf. My reputation stained
    With Tybalt's slander--Tybalt that an hour
    Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet,
    Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
    And in my temper softened valor's steel.
    1550Enter Benvolio.
    O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead,
    That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
    Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
    This day's black fate on more days doth depend.
    1555This but begins the woe others must end.[Enter Tybalt.]
    Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
    He 'gain? In triumph and Mercutio slain?
    Away to heaven, respective lenity,
    1560And fire and fury be my conduct now.
    Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again
    That late thou gavest me, for Mercutio's soul
    Is but a little way above our heads,
    Staying for thine to keep him company.
    1565Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
    Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
    Shalt with him hence.
    This shall determine that.
    They fight. Tybalt falls.
    Romeo, away, be gone!
    The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
    Stand not amazed; the Prince will doom thee death
    If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
    O, I am fortune's fool.
    Why dost thou stay?
    Exit Romeo.
    Enter Citizens.
    Which way ran he that killed Mercutio?
    Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
    There lies that Tybalt.
    Up sir, go with me.
    I charge thee in the Prince's name, obey.
    Enter Prince, old Montague, Capulet, their wives, and all.
    Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
    O noble Prince, I can discover all
    The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.
    There lies the man slain by young Romeo,
    That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
    1590Capulet's Wife
    Tybalt, my cousin, O my brother's child!
    O Prince, O cousin, husband, O, the blood is spilled
    Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
    For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
    O cousin, cousin!
    Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
    Tybalt here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay--
    Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
    How nice the quarrel was and urged withal
    Your high displeasure. All this--uttered
    1600With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed--
    Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
    Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
    With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
    Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
    1605And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
    Cold death aside, and with the other sends
    It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
    Retorts it; Romeo, he cries aloud,
    "Hold friends, friends part!" and swifter than his tongue,
    1610His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
    And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm
    An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
    Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled,
    But by and by comes back to Romeo,
    1615Who had but newly entertained revenge,
    And to't they go like lightning, for ere I
    Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain,
    And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly;
    This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
    1620Capulet's Wife
    He is a kinsman to the Montague.
    Affection makes him false; he speaks not true.
    Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
    And all those twenty could but kill one life.
    I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.
    1625Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.
    Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.
    Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
    Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend.
    His fault concludes but what the law should end:
    1630The life of Tybalt.
    And for that offense,
    Immediately we do exile him hence.
    I have an interest in your hearts' proceeding;
    My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.
    1635But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
    That you shall all repent the loss of mine.
    It will be deaf to pleading and excuses,
    Nor tears, nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.
    Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,
    1640Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
    Bear hence this body and attend our will,
    Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
    [Scene 12/III.ii]
    Enter Juliet alone.
    Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
    Towards Phoebus' lodging. Such a wagoner
    As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
    And bring in cloudy night immediately.
    Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
    1650That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo
    Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen.
    Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
    By their own beauties, or, if love be blind,
    It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
    1655Thou sober-suited matron all in black,
    And learn me how to lose a winning match
    Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.
    Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks,
    With thy black mantle, till strange love grow bold,
    1660Think true love acted simple modesty.
    Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night,
    For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,
    Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
    Come, gentle night; come, loving black-browed night;
    1665Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die,
    Take him and cut him out in little stars
    And he will make the face of heaven so fine
    That all the world will be in love with night
    And pay no worship to the garish sun.
    1670O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
    But not possessed it, and though I am sold,
    Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day
    As is the night before some festival
    To an impatient child that hath new robes
    1675And may not wear them. O, here comes my Nurse.
    Enter Nurse with cords.
    And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks
    But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
    Now, Nurse, what news? What hast thou there?
    1680The cords that Romeo bid thee fetch?
    Ay, ay, the cords.[Nurse wrings her hands.]
    Ay me, what news? Why dost thou wring thy hands?
    A weraday! He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.
    1685We are undone, lady, we are undone.
    Alack the day, he's gone, he's killed, he's dead.
    Can heaven be so envious?
    Romeo can,
    Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
    1690Whoever would have thought it? Romeo!
    What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?
    This torture should be roared in dismal hell.
    Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but "Ay,"
    1695And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more
    Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice,
    I am not I, if there be such an ay,
    Or those eyes shut, that makes thee answer "Ay."
    If he be slain, say "Ay," or if not, "No."
    1700Brief sounds determine my weal or woe.
    I saw the wound; I saw it with mine eyes--
    God save the mark!--here [Points to her breast]on his manly breast.
    A piteous corpse, a bloody piteous corpse,
    Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,
    1705All in gore blood. I swoonèd at the sight.
    O break, my heart; poor bankrupt, break at once!
    To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty.
    Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here
    1710And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier.
    O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
    O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman,
    That ever I should live to see thee dead.
    What storm is this that blows so contrary?
    1715Is Romeo slaughtered? And is Tybalt dead?
    My dearest cousin and my dearer lord?
    Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
    For who is living, if those two are gone?
    Tybalt is gone and Romeo banishèd,
    1720Romeo that killed him, he is banishèd.
    O God, did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
    NurseIt did, it did. Alas the day, it did.
    O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!
    1725Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
    Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical,
    Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb,
    Despised substance of divinest show,
    1730Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
    A damnèd saint, an honorable villain.
    O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell
    When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
    In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
    1735Was ever book containing such vile matter
    So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
    In such a gorgeous palace.
    There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men.
    All perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
    1740Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua-vitae.
    These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
    Shame come to Romeo.
    Blistered be thy tongue
    For such a wish; he was not born to shame.
    1745Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit,
    For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned
    Sole monarch of the universal earth.
    O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
    Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?
    Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
    Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name
    When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
    But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
    1755That villain cousin would have killed my husband.
    Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
    Your tributary drops belong to woe,
    Which you mistaking offer up to joy.
    My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,
    1760And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.
    All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then?
    Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
    That murdered me; I would forget it fain,
    But O, it presses to my memory
    1765Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
    "Tybalt is dead and Romeo banishèd."
    That "banishèd," that one word "banishèd"
    Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
    Was woe enough if it had ended there,
    1770Or if sour woe delights in fellowship,
    And needly will be ranked with other griefs,
    Why followed not when she said "Tybalt's dead,"
    "Thy father" or "thy mother," nay or both,
    Which modern lamentation might have moved?
    1775But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
    "Romeo is banishèd"! To speak that word
    Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
    All slain, all dead. "Romeo is banishèd."
    There is no end, no limit, measure, bound
    1780In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
    Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?
    Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corpse.
    Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
    Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,
    1785When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
    Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguiled,
    Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled.
    He made you for a highway to my bed,
    But I a maid, die maiden-widowèd.
    1790Come, cords; come, Nurse, I'll to my wedding bed,
    And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead.
    Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo
    To comfort you; I wot well where he is.
    Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
    1795I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
    O, find him, give this ring to my true knight,
    And bid him come to take his last farewell.
    [Scene 13/III.iii]
    Enter Friar and Romeo.
    1800Friar Laurence
    Romeo, come forth, come forth, thou fearful man.
    Affliction is enamored of thy parts
    And thou art wedded to calamity.
    Father, what news? What is the Prince's doom?
    What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand
    That I yet know not?
    Friar Laurence
    Too familiar
    Is my dear son with such sour company.
    1810I bring thee tidings of the Prince's doom.
    What less than doomsday is the Prince's doom?
    Friar Laurence
    A gentler judgment vanished from his lips:
    Not body's death, but body's banishment.
    Ha, banishment? Be merciful, say "death."
    For exile hath more terror in his look,
    Much more than death; do not say "banishment."
    Friar Laurence
    Here from Verona art thou banishèd.
    Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
    There is no world without Verona walls,
    But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
    Hence banishèd, is banished from the world,
    And world's exile is death. Then "banishèd,"
    Is death mistermed. Calling death "banishèd,"
    1825Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden ax
    And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
    Friar Laurence
    O deadly sin, O rude unthankfulness!
    Thy fault our law calls death, but the kind Prince,
    Taking thy part, hath rushed aside the law
    1830And turned that black word "death" to banishment.
    This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
    'Tis torture and not mercy. Heaven is here
    Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog,
    And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
    1835Live here in heaven, and may look on her,
    But Romeo may not. More validity,
    More honorable state, more courtship lives
    In carrion flies than Romeo. They may seize
    On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
    1840And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
    Who even in pure and vestal modesty
    Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.
    This may flies do, when I from this must fly--
    And sayest thou yet that exile is not death?--
    1845But Romeo may not; he is banishèd.
    They are free men, but I am banishèd.
    Hadst thou no poison mixed, no sharp-ground knife,
    No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
    But "banishèd" to kill me? "Banishèd"?
    O Friar, the damnèd use that word in hell;
    1850Howling attends it. How hast thou the heart,
    Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
    A sin absolver, and my friend professed,
    To mangle me with that word "banishèd"?
    Friar Laurence
    Then, fond mad man, hear me a little speak.
    O, thou wilt speak again of banishment!
    Friar Laurence
    I'll give thee armor to keep off that word,
    Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
    To comfort thee though thou art banishèd.
    Yet banishèd? Hang up philosophy!
    1860Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
    Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
    It helps not; it prevails not. Talk no more.
    Friar Laurence
    O, then I see that mad men have no ears.
    How should they when that wise men have no eyes?
    Friar Laurence
    Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
    Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel.
    Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
    An hour but married, Tybalt murderèd,
    1870Doting like me, and like me banishèd,
    Then mightst thou speak;
    Then mightst thou tear thy hair
    And fall upon the ground as I do now,
    [Romeo falls on the ground.]
    Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
    1875Enter Nurse, and knock.
    Friar Laurence
    Arise, one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.
    Not I, unless the breath of heartsick groans
    1880Mist-like enfold me from the search of eyes.
    They knock.
    Friar Laurence
    Hark how they knock.--[To Person Knocking] Who's there?--[To Romeo] Romeo, arise,
    Thou wilt be taken. Stay a while; stand up.
    1885Loud knock.
    Run to my study.--[To Person Knocking] By and by!--[To Self] God's will!
    What simpleness is this?--[To Person Knocking] I come, I come.
    Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will?
    Enter Nurse.
    Let me come in, and you shall know my errand.
    I come from Lady Juliet.
    1895Friar Laurence
    Welcome, then.
    O holy Friar, O, tell me, holy Friar,
    Where's my lady's lord? Where's Romeo?
    Friar Laurence
    There on the ground,
    With his own tears made drunk.
    O, he is even in my mistress' case,
    Just in her case. O woeful sympathy,
    Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
    Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubb'ring.
    Stand up, stand up, stand an you be a man.
    1905For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand.
    Why should you fall into so deep an O?
    Nurse.
    [Romeo gets up.]
    Ah, sir, ah, sir, death's the end of all.
    Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?
    1910Doth not she think me an old murderer
    Now I have stained the childhood of our joy
    With blood removed but little from her own?
    Where is she? And how doth she? And what says
    My concealed lady to our canceled love?
    O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps,
    And now falls on her bed, and then starts up,
    And Tybalt calls, and then on Romeo cries,
    And then down falls again.
    As if that name shot from the deadly level of a gun
    1920Did murder her, as that name's cursed hand
    Murdered her kinsman. O, tell me, Friar, tell me,
    In what vile part of this anatomy
    Doth my name lodge? Tell me that I may sack
    The hateful mansion.
    [Draws weapon.]
    1925Friar Laurence
    Hold thy desperate hand![Grabs Romeo]
    Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art.
    Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote
    The unreasonable fury of a beast.
    Unseemly woman in a seeming man
    1930And ill-beseeming beast in seeming both.
    Thou hast amazed me. By my holy order,
    I thought thy disposition better tempered.
    Hast thou slain Tybalt? Wilt thou slay thyself?
    And slay thy lady, that in thy life lies,
    1935By doing damnèd hate upon thyself?
    Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth,
    Since birth, and heaven, and earth all three do meet
    In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose.
    Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit,
    1940Which like a usurer abound'st in all
    And usest none in that true use indeed,
    Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
    Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
    Digressing from the valor of a man;
    1945Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
    Killing that love which thou hast vowed to cherish;
    Thy wit, that ornament, to shape and love,
    Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
    Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
    1950Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
    And thou dismembered with thine own defense.
    What? Rouse thee, man! Thy Juliet is alive,
    For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
    There art thou happy. Tybalt would kill thee,
    1955But thou slewest Tybalt; there art thou happy.
    The law that threatened death becomes thy friend
    And turns it to exile; there art thou happy.
    A pack of blessings light upon thy back;
    Happiness courts thee in her best array,
    1960But like a mishavèd and sullen wench,
    Thou pouts upon thy fortune and thy love.
    Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
    Go get thee to thy love as was decreed;
    Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her,
    1965But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
    For then thou canst not pass to Mantua,
    Where thou shalt live till we can find a time
    To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
    Beg pardon of the Prince, and call thee back,
    1970With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
    Then thou went'st forth in lamentation.
    Go before, Nurse, commend me to thy lady,
    And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
    Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto.
    1975Romeo is coming.
    O Lord, I could have stayed here all the night,
    To hear good counsel. O what learning is!
    My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
    Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
    Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir.
    [Gives him ring.]
    Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.[Exit Nurse.]
    How well my comfort is revived by this.
    Friar Laurence
    Go hence, goodnight, and here stands all your state.
    1985Either be gone before the watch be set,
    Or by the break of day disguise from hence;
    Sojourn in Mantua. I'll find out your man,
    And he shall signify from time to time
    Every good hap to you that chances here.
    1990Give me thy hand; 'tis late. Farewell, goodnight.
    [They clasp hands.]
    But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
    It were a grief, so brief to part with thee.
    Farewell.
    [Scene 14/III.iv]
    Enter old Capulet, his wife, and Paris.
    Things have fallen 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.
    'Tis very late; she'll not come down tonight.
    2000I promise you, but for your company,
    I would have been abed an hour ago.
    These times of woe afford no times to woo.
    Madam, goodnight, commend me to your daughter.
    Capulet's Wife
    I will, and know her mind early tomorrow.
    2005Tonight she's mewed up to her heaviness.
    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.
    Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
    2010Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love
    And bid her,--mark you me?--on Wednesday next.
    But soft, what day is this?
    Monday, my Lord.
    Monday, ha ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon.
    2015A Thursday let it be, a 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.
    For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
    2020It 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?
    My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.
    Well, get you gone, a Thursday be it then.--
    [To Wife] Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed.
    Prepare her, wife, against this wedding day.
    Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!
    2030Afore me, it is so very late that we may call it early by and by.
    Goodnight.
    Exeunt.
    [Scene 15/III.v]
    Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft.
    Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.
    It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
    2035That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.
    Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.
    Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
    It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
    No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
    2040Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
    Night's candles are burnt out, and jocond day
    Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.
    I must be gone and live or stay and die.
    Yond light is not daylight; I know it, I.
    2045It is some meteor that the sun exhales
    To be to thee this night a torch-bearer
    And light thee on thy way to Mantua.
    Therefore, stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
    Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death.
    2050I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
    I'll say yon gray is not the the morning's eye;
    '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.
    2055I have more care to stay than will to go.
    Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so.
    How is't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day.
    It is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away!
    It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
    2060Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
    Some say the lark makes sweet division;
    This doth not so, for she divideth us.
    Some say the lark and loathèd toad change eyes;
    O now I would they had changed voices too,
    2065Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
    Hunting thee hence, with hunt's-up to the day.
    O, now be gone! More light and light it grows.
    More light and light, more dark and dark our
    woes.
    Enter Nurse.
    Madam.
    Nurse?
    Your lady mother is coming to your chamber,
    The day is broke. Be wary; look about.
    Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
    Farewell, farewell, one kiss and I'll descend.
    [They kiss.]
    Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay, husband, friend,
    I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
    For in a minute there are many days.
    O, by this count I shall be much in years
    2080Ere I again behold my Romeo.
    Farewell.
    I will omit no opportunity
    That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
    O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
    I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve
    For sweet discourses in our times to come.
    O God, I have an ill-divining soul.
    Methinks I see thee now, thou art so low,
    As one dead in the bottom of a tomb;
    2090Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
    And trust me, love, in my eye so do you.
    Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.
    2092.1Exit [Romeo].
    O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle.
    If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
    2095That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,
    For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,
    But send him back.
    Enter Mother.
    Capulet's Wife
    Ho, daughter, are you up?
    Who is't that calls? It is my lady mother.
    Is she not down so late or up so early?
    What unaccustomed cause procures her hither?[Juliet exits aloft, then re-enters on main stage.]
    Capulet's Wife
    Why, how now, Juliet?
    Madam, I am not well.
    2105Capulet's Wife
    Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
    What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
    And if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live.
    Therefore have done; some grief shows much of love,
    But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
    Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
    Capulet's Wife
    So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
    Which you weep for.
    Feeling so the loss,
    I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
    2115Capulet's Wife
    Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
    As that the villain lives which slaughtered him.
    What villain, madam?
    Capulet's Wife
    That same villain Romeo.
    Villain and he be many miles asunder.
    2120God pardon him, I do with all my heart,
    And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
    Capulet's Wife
    That is because the traitor murderer lives.
    Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands;
    Would none but I might venge my cousin's death.
    2125Capulet's Wife
    We will have vengeance for it; fear thou not.
    Then weep no more; I'll send to one in Mantua,
    Where that same banished runagate doth live,
    Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram,
    That he shall soon keep Tybalt company,
    2130And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
    Indeed I never shall be satisfied
    With Romeo till I behold him. Dead
    Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed.
    Madam, if you could find out but a man
    2135To bear a poison, I would temper it,
    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
    2140Upon his body that hath slaughtered him.
    Capulet's Wife
    Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man,
    But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
    And joy comes well in such a needy time.
    What are they, beseech your ladyship?
    2145Capulet's Wife
    Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child,
    One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
    Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy
    That thou expects not, nor I looked not for.
    Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
    2150Capulet's Wife
    Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
    The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
    The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church
    Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
    Now, by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too,
    2155He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
    I wonder at this haste, that I must wed
    Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.
    I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,
    I will not marry yet, and when I do, I swear
    2160It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate
    Rather than Paris; these are news indeed.
    Capulet's Wife
    Here comes your father; tell him so yourself
    And see how he will take it at your hands.
    Enter Capulet and Nurse.
    When the sun sets, the earth doth drizzle dew,
    But for the sunset of my brother's son,
    It rains downright. How now, a conduit, girl? What! Still in tears,
    Evermore show'ring? In one litle body
    2170Thou counterfeits a bark, a sea, a wind,
    For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
    Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
    Sailing in this salt flood; the winds thy sighs,
    Who, raging with thy tears and they with them,
    2175Without a sudden calm will overset
    Thy tempest-tossèd body. How now, wife,
    Have you delivered to her our decree?
    Capulet's Wife
    Ay, sir, but she will none; she gives you thanks.
    2180I would the fool were married to her grave.
    Soft, take me with you; take me with you, wife.
    How will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?
    Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blessed,
    Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
    2185So worthy a gentleman to be her bride?
    Not proud you have, but thankful that you have.
    Proud can I never be of what I hate,
    But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
    How, how, how, how, chopped logic? What is this?
    "Proud," and "I thank you," and "I thank you not,"
    And yet, "not proud," mistress minion you?
    Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
    But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next
    2195To 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!
    Capulet's Wife
    Fie, fie! What, are you mad?
    Good father, I beseech you on my knees;
    Hear me with patience, but to speak a word.
    [Juliet kneels.]
    Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch.
    I tell thee what: get thee to church a' Thursday,
    Or never after look me in the face.
    2205Speak not, reply not, do not answer me.
    My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blessed
    That God had lent us but this only child,
    But now I see this one is one too much,
    And that we have a curse in having her.
    2210Out on her, hilding!
    God in heaven bless her.
    You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
    And why, my lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue.
    Good Prudence, smatter with your gossips, go.
    I speak no treason.
    CapuletO, God'i'good'e'en.
    NurseMay not one speak?
    Peace, you mumbling fool.
    Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
    2220For here we need it not.
    Capulet's Wife
    You are too hot.
    God's bread, it makes me mad,
    Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
    Alone, in company, still my care hath been
    2225To have her matched, and having now provided
    A gentleman of noble parentage,
    Of fair demesnes, youthful and nobly lined,
    Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts,
    Proportioned as one's thought would wish a man,
    2230And then to have a wretched puling fool,
    A whining mammet, in her fortunes tender,
    To answer, "I'll not wed; I cannot love;
    I am too young; I pray you pardon me."
    But an you will not wed, I'll pardon you.
    2235Graze where you will; you shall not house with me,
    Look to't, think on't; I do not use to jest.
    Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise.
    An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
    An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets.
    2240For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
    Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
    Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn.
    Exit [Capulet].
    Is there no pity sitting in the clouds
    That sees into the bottom of my grief?
    2245O, sweet my mother, cast me not away.
    Delay this marriage for a month, a week,
    Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
    In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
    Capulet's Wife
    Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;
    2250Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
    Exit [Capulet's Wife].
    O God, O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?
    My husband is on earth; my faith in heaven.
    How shall that faith return again to earth,
    2255Unless that husband send it me from heaven
    By leaving earth? Comfort me; counsel me.
    Alack, alack, that heaven should practice stratagems
    Upon so soft a subject as myself.
    What sayst thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?
    2260Some comfort, Nurse.
    Faith, here it is. Romeo is banished and all the world to nothing,
    That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you,
    Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
    2265Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
    I think it best you married with the County.
    O, he's a lovely gentleman!
    Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,
    Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
    2270As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
    I think you are happy in this second match,
    For it excels your first, or if it did not,
    Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,
    As living here, and you no use of him.
    Speak'st thou from thy heart?
    And from my soul too, else beshrew them both.
    Amen.
    What?
    Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much.
    Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
    Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,
    To make confession and to be absolved.
    Marry, I will, and this is wisely done.[Exit Nurse.]
    Ancient damnation, O most wicked fiend,
    Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
    Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
    Which she hath praised him with above compare,
    So many thousand times? Go, counselor,
    2290Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
    I'll to the Friar to know his remedy,
    If all else fail, myself have power to die.
    [Scene 16/IV.i]
    Enter Friar and County Paris.
    Friar Laurence
    On Thursday, sir? The time is very short.
    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?
    Uneven is the course; I like it not.
    Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
    2300And therefore have I little talk of love,
    For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
    Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
    That she do give her sorrow so much sway
    And in his wisdom hastes our marriage
    2305To stop the inundation of her tears,
    Which, too much minded by herself alone
    May be put from her by society.
    Now do you know the reason of this haste.
    Friar Laurence
    I would I knew not why it should be slowed.
    2310Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell.
    Enter Juliet.
    Happily met, my lady and my wife.
    That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
    That "may be," must be, love, on Thursday next.
    What must be shall be.
    Friar Laurence
    That's a certain text.
    Come you to make confession to this father?
    To answer that, I should confess to you.
    Do not deny to him that you love me.
    I will confess to you that I love him.
    So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
    If I do so, it will be of more price,
    Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
    Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
    The tears have got small victory by that,
    For it was bad enough before their spite.
    Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report.
    That is no slander, sir, which is a truth,
    And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
    Thy face is mine, and thou hast slandered it.
    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.
    2335My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
    God shield I should disturb devotion.
    Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye.
    Till then, adieu, and keep this holy kiss.
    [Kisses her.]
    Exit [Paris].
    O, shut the door, and when thou hast done so,
    2340Come weep with me, past hope, past care, past help.
    [Friar shuts door.]
    Friar Laurence
    O 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.
    Tell me not, Friar, that thou hearest of this,
    Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it.
    If in thy wisdom thou canst give no help,
    Do thou but call my resolution wise,
    And with this knife I'll help it presently.
    [Juliet displays a knife.]
    2350God joined my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands,
    And ere this hand by thee to Romeo's sealed
    Shall be the label to another deed,
    Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
    Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
    2355Therefore out of thy long-experienced time,
    Give me some present counsel, or behold,
    'Twixt my extremes and me, this bloody knife
    Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
    Which the commission of thy years and art
    2360Could to no issue of true honor bring.
    Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
    If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
    Friar Laurence
    Hold, daughter, I do spy a kind of hope,
    Which craves as desperate an execution,
    2365As that is desperate which we would prevent.
    If, rather than to marry County Paris,
    Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
    Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
    A thing like death to chide away this shame,
    2370That cop'st with death himself to 'scape from it,
    And if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy.
    O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
    From of the battlements of any tower,
    Or walk in thievish wayes, or bid me lurk
    2375Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears,
    Or hide me nightly in a charnel house,
    O'ercovered quite with dead men's rattling bones,
    With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls,
    Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
    2380And hide me with a dead man in his shroud,
    Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble,
    And I will do it, without fear or doubt,
    To live an unstained wife to my sweet love.
    Friar Laurence
    Hold then. Go home, be merry, give consent
    2385To marry Paris. Wednesday is tomorrow;
    Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone.
    Let not the Nurse lie with thee in thy chamber.
    Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
    [Holds up vial.]
    And this distilling liquor drink thou off,
    2390When presently through all thy veins shall run
    A cold and drowsy humor, for no pulse
    Shall keep his native progress but surcease.
    No warmth, no breath shall testify thou liv'st;
    The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
    2395To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall
    Like death when he shuts up the day of life.
    Each part, deprived of supple government,
    Shall stiff and stark and cold appear like death,
    And in this borrowed likeness of shrunk death
    2400Thou shalt continue two and forty hours
    And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
    Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
    To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead.
    Then, as the manner of our country is,
    2405In thy best robes, uncovered on the bier,
    Be borne to burial in thy kindred's grave.
    Thou shall be borne to that same ancient vault
    Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
    In the meantime, against thou shalt awake,
    2410Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
    And hither shall he come, and he and I
    2411.1Will watch thy waking, and that very night
    Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
    And this shall free thee from this present shame,
    If no inconstant toy nor womanish fear
    2415Abate thy valor in the acting it.
    Give me, give me, O, tell not me of fear.
    [Juliet takes the vial.]
    Friar Laurence
    Hold, get you gone; be strong and prosperous
    In this resolve. I'll send a friar with speed
    To Mantua with my letters to thy lord.
    Love give me strength, and strength shall help afford.
    Farewell, dear father.
    Exit.
    [Scene 17/IV.ii]
    Enter Father Capulet, Mother, Nurse, and Serving-men, two or three.
    So many guests invite as here are writ.
    Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
    Serving-man
    You shall have none ill, sir, for I'll try if they can lick their fingers.
    How canst thou try them so?
    2430Serving-man
    Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers; therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.
    Go, be gone. We shall be much unfurnished for this time.
    What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
    Ay, forsooth.
    Well, he may chance to do some good on her.
    A peevish self-willed harlotry it is.
    Enter Juliet.
    See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
    How now, my headstrong, where have you been gadding?
    Where I have learned me to repent the sin
    Of disobedient opposition
    2445To you and your behests, and am enjoined
    By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here
    To beg your pardon. Pardon, I beseech you;
    [She kneels.]
    Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
    Send for the County; go tell him of this.
    2450I'll have this knot knit up tomorrow morning.
    I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell
    And gave him what becomèd love I might,
    Not stepping o'er the bounds of modesty.
    Why, I am glad on't. This is well; stand up.
    [Juliet rises.]
    2455This is as't should be.--[Calls to Servants] Let me see the County.
    Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
    Now
    Now, afore God, this reverend holy Friar,
    All our whole city is much bound to him.
    Nurse, will you go with me into my closet
    2460To help me sort such needful ornaments
    As you think fit to furnish me tomorrow?
    Capulet's Wife
    No, not till Thursday, there is time enough.
    Go, Nurse, go with her, we'll to church tomorrow.
    2465Exeunt [Juliet and Nurse].
    Capulet's Wife
    We shall be short in our provision.
    'Tis now near night.
    Tush, I will stir about,
    And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife.
    2470Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
    I'll not to bed tonight; let me alone.
    I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
    Exit Capulet's Wife.
    They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself
    To County Paris, to prepare up him
    2475Against tomorrow. My heart is wondrous light
    Since this same wayward girl is so reclaimed.
    [Scene 18/IV.iii]
    Enter Juliet and Nurse.
    Ay, those attires are best, but gentle Nurse,
    2480I pray thee leave me to myself tonight.
    For I have need of many orisons
    To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
    Which well thou knowest is cross and full of sin.
    Enter Mother.
    2485Capulet's Wife
    What are you busy, ho? Need you my help?
    No, madam, we have culled such necessaries
    As are behooveful for our state tomorrow.
    So please you, let me now be left alone,
    And let the Nurse this night sit up with you,
    2490For I am sure you have your hands full all
    In this so sudden business.
    Capulet's Wife
    Good night.
    Get thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need.
    Exeunt.
    Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again.
    I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
    That almost freezes up the heat of life.
    I'll call them back again to comfort me.
    [To Nurse}Nurse![To self]What should she do here?
    2500My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
    Come, vial. [Holds up vial.]What if this mixture do not work at all?
    Shall I be married then tomorrow morning?
    No, no, [Picks up dagger]this shall forbid it; lie thou there.
    2503.1[Juliet lays dagger down.]
    What if it be a poison which the Friar
    2505Subtly hath ministered to have me dead,
    Lest in this marriage he should be dishonored,
    Because he married me before to Romeo?
    I fear it is, and yet methinks it should not,
    For he hath still been tried a holy man.
    2510How, if when I am laid into the tomb,
    I wake before the time that Romeo
    Come to redeem me? There's a fearful point.
    Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
    To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
    2515And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
    Or, if I live, is it not very like
    The horrible conceit of death and night,
    Together with the terror of the place,
    As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
    2520Where for this many hundred years the bones
    Of all my buried ancestors are packed;
    Where bloody Tybalt yet but green in earth
    Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
    At some hours in the night spirits resort--
    2525Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
    So early waking, what with loathsome smells
    And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth,
    That living mortals, hearing them, run mad,
    O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
    2530Environèd with all these hideous fears,
    And madly play with my forefathers' joints
    And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud,
    And in this rage with some great kinsman's bone,
    As with a club, dash out my desp'rate brains?
    2535O, look, methinks I see my cousin's ghost
    Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body
    Upon a rapier's point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!
    Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, here's drink. I drink to thee.
    [She drinks and falls down on the bed.]
    [Scene 19/IV.iv]
    Enter Lady of the house and Nurse.
    2540Capulet's Wife
    Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, Nurse.
    [Hands Nurse the keys.]
    They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
    Enter old Capulet.
    Come, stir, stir, stir! The second cock hath crowed.
    The curfew bell hath rung; 'tis three o'clock.
    Look to the baked meats, good Angelica,
    Spare not for cost.
    [To Capulet] Go, you cot-quean, go.
    2550Get you to bed. Faith, you'll be sick tomorrow
    For this night's watching.
    No, not a whit. What, I have watched ere now
    All night for lesser cause and ne'er been sick.
    Capulet's Wife
    Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time,
    2555But I will watch you from such watching now.
    Exit Lady and Nurse.
    A jealous hood, a jealous hood!--[To Serving-man] Now fellow, what is there?
    Enter three or four [serving-men] with spits and logs and baskets.
    25601 Serving-man
    Things for the cook, sir, but I know not what.
    Make haste, make haste. [Exit 1 Serving-man ]Sirrah, fetch drier logs.
    Call Peter; he will show thee where they are.
    2 Serving-man
    I have a head, sir, that will find out logs
    And never trouble Peter for the matter.[Exit 2 Serving-man]
    Mass, and well said. A merry whoreson, ha!
    Thou shalt be loggerhead. Good faith, 'tis day.
    Play music.
    The County will be here with music straight,
    For so he said he would; I hear him near.
    2570Nurse! Wife! What ho! What, Nurse, I say!
    Enter Nurse.
    Go waken Juliet. Go and trim her up.
    I'll go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste;
    Make haste! The bridegroom, he is come already; make haste, I say![Exeunt Capulet and Nurse.]
    [Scene 20/IV.v]
    2575Enter Nurse.
    Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet!--[To self] Fast, I warrant her, she.--
    [To Juliet]Why, lamb, why, lady! Fie, you slugabed!
    Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride!
    What? Not a word? You take your pennyworths now;
    2580Sleep for a week. For the next night I warrant
    The County Paris hath set up his rest
    That you shall rest but little, God forgive me.
    Marry and amen, how sound is she asleep?
    I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
    2585Ay, let the County take you in your bed,
    He'll fright you up i'faith, will it not be?
    What, dressed, and in your clothes, and down again?
    I must needs wake you. Lady, lady, lady.--
    Alas, alas! Help, help! My lady's dead!
    2590O weraday that ever I was born.
    Some aqua-vitae, ho! My lord, my lady.[Enter Capulet's Wife.]
    Capulet's Wife
    What noise is here?
    O lamentable day.
    Capulet's Wife
    What is the matter?
    Look, look, o heavy day!
    Capulet's Wife
    O me, O me, my child, my only life.
    Revive, look up, or I will die with thee.
    Help, help, call help!
    Enter Father.
    For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
    She's dead, deceased; she's dead, alack the day!
    Capulet's Wife
    Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead.
    Ha, let me see her. Out, alas, she's cold,
    Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff.
    2605Life and these lips have long been separated;
    Death lies on her like an untimely frost
    Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
    O lamentable day!
    Capulet's Wife
    O woeful time!
    Death that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail
    Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
    Enter Friar and the County.With Musicians
    Friar Laurence
    Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
    Ready to go but never to return.
    2615O son, the night before thy wedding day
    Hath death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
    Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
    Death is my son-in-law; death is my heir;
    My daughter he hath wedded. I will die
    2620And leave him all life living; all is death's.
    Have I thought long to see this morning's face
    And doth it give me such a sight as this?
    Capulet's Wife
    Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day.
    Most miserable hour that ere time saw
    2625In lasting labor of his pilgrimage!
    But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
    But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
    And cruel death hath catched it from my sight.
    O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day!
    2630Most lamentable day, most woeful day
    That ever, ever, I did yet behold.
    O day, O day, O day, O hateful day!
    Never was seen so black a day as this.
    O woeful day, O woeful day!
    Beguiled, divorcèd, wrongèd, spited, slain!
    Most detestable death, by thee beguiled,
    By cruel, cruel, thee quite overthrown.
    O love, O life, not life, but love in death.
    Despised, distressèd, hated, martyred, killed!
    2640Uncomfortable time, why cam'st thou now
    To murder, murder our solemnity?
    O child, O child, my soul and not my child!
    Dead art thou, alack, my child is dead,
    And with my child my joys are buried.
    2645Friar Laurence
    Peace, ho, for shame, confusions! Care lives not
    In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
    Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all
    And all the better is it for the maid.
    Your part in her you could not keep from death,
    2650But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
    The most you sought was her promotion,
    For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced,
    And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
    Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
    2655O, in this love, you love your child so ill
    That you run mad, seeing that she is well.
    She's not well married that lives married long,
    But she's best married that dies married young.
    Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
    2660On this fair corpse, and, as the custom is,
    And in her best array, bear her to church.
    For though some nature bids us all lament,
    Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
    All things that we ordained festival
    2665Turn from their office to black funeral:
    Our instruments to melancholy bells,
    Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
    Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
    Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corpse,
    2670And all things change them to the contrary.
    Friar Laurence
    Sir, go you in, and Madam, go with him,
    And go, sir Paris, everyone prepare
    To follow this fair corpse unto her grave.
    The heavens do low'r upon you for some ill;
    2675Move them no more by crossing their high will.
    2675.1Exeunt all but Nurse and Minstrels.
    1 Minstrel
    Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone.[They begin putting away their instruments.]
    Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up,
    For well you know, this is a pitiful case.
    1 Minstrel
    Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
    2679.1Exit the Nurse.
    2680Enter Peter.
    Musicians, oh musicians, "Heart's Ease," "Heart's Ease,"
    O, an you will have me live, play "Heart's Ease."
    1 Minstrel
    Why "Heart's Ease"?
    O musicians, because my heart itself plays "My Heart is Full":
    2686.1O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.
    Minstrels
    Not a dump, we. 'Tis no time to play now.
    You will not, then?
    1 Minstrel
    No.
    I will then give it you soundly.
    1 Minstrel
    What will you give us?
    No money on my faith, but the gleek.
    I will give you the minstrel.
    1 Minstrel
    Then will I give you the serving-creature.
    [Draws dagger.]Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate.
    I will carry no crotchets. I'll re you, I'll fa
    You; do you note me?
    1 Minstrel
    And you re us, and fa us, you note us.
    2 Minstrel
    Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
    Then have at you with my wit.
    I will dry-beat you with an iron wit and put up my iron dagger.
    Answer me like men.
    [sings]When griping griefs the heart doth wound,
    Then music with her silver sound.
    Why "silver sound"? Why "music, with her silver sound"? What say
    you, Simon Catling?
    1 Minstrel
    Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
    Prates. What say you, Hugh Rebec?
    2 Minstrel
    I say "silver sound," because musicians sound for silver.
    Prates too. What say you, James Soundpost?
    3 Minstrel
    Faith, I know not what to say.
    O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer.
    2715I will say for you; it is "music with her silver sound"
    Because musicians have no gold for sounding.
    [sings]
    Then music with her silver sound
    With speedy help doth lend redress.
    Exit [Peter].
    1 Minstrel
    What a pestilent knave is this same?
    27202 Minstrel
    Hang him, jack. Come, we'll in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.
    Exit [minstrels].
    [Scene 21/V.i]
    Enter Romeo.
    If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
    My dreams presage some joyful news at hand.
    2725My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne,
    And all this day an unaccustomed spirit
    Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
    I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--
    Strange dream that gives a dead man leave to think!--
    2730And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
    That I revived and was an emperor.
    Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessed,
    When but love's shadow's are so rich in joy.
    Enter Romeo's man.
    2735News from Verona! How now, Balthasar?
    Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar?
    How doth my lady? Is my father well?
    How doth my lady Juliet? That I ask again,
    For nothing can be ill if she be well.
    2740Balthasar
    Then she is well, and nothing can be ill.
    Her body sleeps in Capels' monument,
    And her immortal part with angels lives.
    I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
    And presently took post to tell it you.
    2745O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
    Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
    Is it e'en so? Then I deny you, stars!--
    [To Balthasar] Thou know'st my lodging; get me ink and paper,
    2750And hire post horses. I will hence tonight.
    Balthasar
    I do beseech you, sir, have patience.
    Your looks are pale and wild and do import
    Some misadventure.
    Tush, thou art deceived,
    2755Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
    Hast thou no letters to me from the Friar?
    Balthasar
    No, my good Lord.
    No matter. Get thee gone,
    2760And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
    Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight.
    Let's see for means. O mischief, thou art swift
    To enter in the thoughts of desperate men.
    I do remember an apothecary,
    2765And hereabouts 'a dwells, which late I noted,
    In tattered weeds with overwhelming brows,
    Culling of simples. Meager were his looks;
    Sharp misery had worn him to the bones,
    And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
    2770An alligator stuffed, and other skins
    Of ill-shaped fishes, and about his shelves
    A beggerly account of empty boxes,
    Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds,
    Remnants of packthread, and old cakes of roses
    2775Were thinly scattered to make up a show.
    Noting this penury, to myself I said,
    An if a man did need a poison now,
    Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
    Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.
    2780O, this same thought did but forerun my need,
    And this same needy man must sell it me.
    As I remember, this should be the house,
    Being holy day, the beggar's shop is shut.
    What ho, Apothecary!
    [Enter Apothecary.]
    Apothecary
    Who calls so loud?
    Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor.
    Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have
    [Holds up money.]
    A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear,
    2790As will disperse itself through all the veins,
    That the life-weary taker may fall dead,
    And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
    As violently as hasty powder fired
    Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
    2795Apothecary
    Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantua's law
    Is death to any he that utters them.
    Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
    And fear'st to die? Famine is in thy cheeks;
    Need and oppression starveth in thy eyes;
    2800Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back.
    The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law;
    The world affords no law to make thee rich,
    Then be not poor, but break it and take this.
    Apothecary
    My poverty, but not my will, consents.
    I pay thy poverty and not thy will.
    Apothecary
    Put this in any liquid thing you will
    And drink it off, and if you had the strength
    Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
    [Gives Romeo the poison.]
    There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
    [Gives Apothecary the gold.]
    Doing more murder in this loathsome world
    Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
    I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
    Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
    2815Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
    To Juliet's grave, for there must I use thee.
    [Scene 22/V.ii]
    Enter Friar John to Friar Laurence.
    Friar John
    Holy Franciscan Friar, brother, ho!
    2820Enter Laurence.
    Friar Laurence
    This same should be the voice of Friar John.--
    [To Friar John] Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo?
    Or if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
    Friar John
    Going to find a barefoot brother out,
    2825One of our order to associate me,
    Here in this city visiting the sick,
    And finding him, the searchers of the town,
    Suspecting that we both were in a house
    Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
    2830Sealed up the doors and would not let us forth,
    So that my speed to Mantua there was stayed.
    Friar Laurence
    Who bare my letter then to Romeo?
    Friar John
    I could not send it--here it is again--
    [Gives Friar Laurence the letter.]
    Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
    2835So fearful were they of infection.
    Friar Laurence
    Unhappy fortune, by my brotherhood,
    The letter was not nice but full of charge,
    Of dear import, and the neglecting it
    May do much danger. Friar John, go hence,
    2840Get me an iron crow and bring it straight
    Unto my cell.
    Friar John
    Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
    Exit.
    Friar Laurence
    Now must I to the monument alone.
    Within this three hours will fair Juliet wake.
    2845She will beshrew me much that Romeo
    Hath had no notice of these accidents,
    But I will write again to Mantua
    And keep her at my cell till Romeo come.
    Poor living corpse, closed in a dead man's tomb!
    [Scene 23/V.iii]
    Enter Paris and his Page [carrying a torch and flowers].
    Give me thy torch, boy. Hence, and stand aloof,
    Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
    Under yond yew trees lay thee all along,
    2855Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground,
    So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
    Being loose, unfirm with digging up of graves,
    But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me
    As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
    2860Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee; go.
    [Paris takes flowers. Page moves aside, quenches torch.]
    I am almost afraid to stand alone
    Here in the churchyard, yet I will adventure.
    Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew--
    [Places flowers on tomb.]
    O woe, thy canopy is dust and stones!--
    2865Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
    Or, wanting that, with tears distilled by moans.
    The obsequies that I for thee will keep
    Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
    Whistle Boy.
    2870The boy gives warning; something doth approach.
    What cursed foot wanders this way tonight
    To cross my obsequies and true love's right?
    What, with a torch? Muffle me, night, awhile.
    [Paris withdraws from sight.]
    Enter Romeo and Balthasar [with mattock, iron, and torch].
    Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
    Hold, take this letter. Early in the morning
    [Romeo takes mattock and iron, gives Balthasar the letter.]
    See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
    Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee,
    [Balthasar gives Romeo a torch.]
    Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof
    2880And do not interrupt me in my course.
    Why I descend into this bed of death
    Is partly to behold my lady's face,
    But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
    A precious ring, a ring that I must use
    2885In dear employment. Therefore, hence, be gone!
    But if thou jealous dost return to pry
    In what I farther shall intend to do,
    By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
    And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs.
    2890The time and my intents are savage wild,
    More fierce and more inexorable far,
    Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
    Balthasar
    I will be gone, sir, and not trouble ye.
    So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that;
    2895live and be prosperous, and farewell, good fellow.
    [Gives Balthasar money.]
    Balthasar
    [Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout.
    His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.[Hides]
    Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
    Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,
    2900Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open
    And in despite I'll cram thee with more food.
    This is that banished haughty Montague
    That murdered my love's cousin, with which grief
    It is supposed the fair creature died,
    2905And here is come to do some villainous shame
    To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him.
    Stop thy unhallowed toil, vile Montague.
    Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
    Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee.
    2910Obey and go with me, for thou must die.
    I must indeed, and therefore came I hither.
    Good gentle youth, tempt not a desp'rate man.
    Fly hence and leave me; think upon these gone.
    Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
    2915Put not another sin upon my head
    By urging me to fury. O, be gone!
    By heaven, I love thee better then myself,
    For I come hither armed against myself.
    Stay not, begone, live, and hereafter say,
    2920A madman's mercy bid thee run away.
    I do defy thy commiseration
    And apprehend thee for a felon here.
    Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy.
    [They fight.]
    Balthasar
    O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
    Exit Balthasar.
    O, I am slain! If thou be merciful,
    Open the tomb; lay me with Juliet.
    [Paris dies.]
    In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
    Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris,
    What said my man, when my betossèd soul
    2930Did not attend him as we rode? I think
    He told me Paris should have married Juliet.
    Said he not so? Or did I dream it so?
    Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
    To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
    2935One writ with me in sour misfortune's book.
    I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave.
    A grave? O, no. A lantern, slaughtered youth.
    [Romeo opens the tomb and enters to find Juliet lying there, seemingly dead.]
    For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
    This vault a feasting presence full of light.
    2940Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interred.
    How oft, when men are at the point of death,
    Have they been merry, which their keepers call
    A light'ning before death? O, how may I
    Call this a light'ning? O, my love, my wife!
    2945Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath,
    Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty.
    Thou art not conquered; beauty's ensign yet
    Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
    And death's pale flag is not advanced there.