20.32[Enter Chorus].Chorus

30.43Two households, both alike in dignity,

40.54(In fair Verona where we lay our scene)

50.65From ancient grudge, break to new mutiny,

60.76Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

70.87From forth the fatal loins of these two foes,

80.98A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,

90.109Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

100.1110Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.

110.1211The fearful passage of their death-marked love

120.1312And the continuance of their parents' rage,

130.1413Which but their children's end nought could remove,

140.1514Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

150.1615The which if you with patient ears attend,

160.1716What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.[Exit]

Gregory, on my word we'll not carry coals.

No, for then we should be colliers.

I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.

Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of collar.

I strike quickly being moved.

But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

To move is to stir, and to be valiant, is to stand. 1430Therefore if thou art moved thou runn'st away.

A dog of that house shall move me to stand. 1632I will take the wall of any man or maid of 33Montagues.

That shows thee a weak slave, for the weakest goes 1835to the wall.

'Tis true, and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, 2037are ever thrust to the wall. Therefore I will push Montague's men 2138from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall.

The quarrel is between our masters and us their 40men.

'Tis all one. I will show myself a tyrant. When I have 2542fought with the men, I will be civil with the maids; I will cut 2643off their heads.

The heads of the maids.

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads, take it 2946in what sense thou wilt.

They must take it in sense that feel it.

Me they shall feel while I am able to stand, and 'tis 3249known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been 3451poor-john. Draw thy tool; here comes of the house of 3552Montagues.

[Draws sword.]My naked weapon is out. Quarrel, I will back thee.

How? Turn thy back and run?

Fear me not.

No, marry, I fear thee.

Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

I will frown as I pass by and let them take it as they list.

Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them, which 4461is disgrace to them if they bear it.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

I do bite my thumb, sir.

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

[To Gregory] Is the law of our side if I say "Ay"?

[To Sampson] No.

[To Abraham] No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite 5068my thumb, sir.

Do you quarrel, sir?

Quarrel, sir? No, sir.

But if you do, sir, I am for you. I serve as good a man as you.

No better.

Well, sir.

[To Sampson] Say "Better." Here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

[To Abraham] Yes, better, sir.

You lie.

Draw if you be men. Gregory, remember thy washing 6078blow.

[Draws sword to intervene in their fight.]Part, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what 6280you do.

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? 6583[Draws sword.]Turn thee, Benvolio; look upon thy death.

I do but keep the peace. Put up thy sword 6785or manage it to part these men with me.

What, drawn and talk of peace? I hate the word 6987as I hate hell, all Montagues and thee. 7088Have at thee, coward![They fight.]

Clubs, bills and partisans! Strike! Beat them down! 7391Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!

What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!

A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?

My sword, I say; old Mountague is come

1.1.567896And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

[Brandishes sword.]Thou villain Capulet!-- [To Wife] hold me not; let me go.

Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.

Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

1.1.6384102Profaners of this neighbor-stainèd steel--

1.1.6485103Will they not hear? What, ho! [Fighters ignore him and keep fighting.]You men, you beasts

1.1.6586104That quench the fire of your pernicious rage

1.1.6687105With purple fountains issuing from your veins:

1.1.6788106On pain of torture, from those bloody hands,

1.1.6889107Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground

1.1.6990108And hear the sentence of your movèd prince.[Fighters lay down weapons or sheathe swords.]

1.1.7091109Three civil brawls bred of an airy word,

1.1.7192110By thee old Capulet and Montague,

1.1.7293111Have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets

1.1.7394112And made Verona's ancient citizens

1.1.7495113Cast by their grave-beseeming ornaments

1.1.7596114To wield old partisans, in hands as old,

1.1.7697115Cankered with peace, to part your cankered hate.

1.1.7798116If ever you disturb our streets again,

1.1.7899117Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

1.1.79100118For this time all the rest depart away.

1.1.80101119You, Capulet, shall go along with me.

1.1.81102120And Montague, come you this afternoon

1.1.82103121To know our farther pleasure in this case

1.1.83104122To old Freetown, our common judgment place.

1.1.84105123Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

1.1.87107126Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

Here were the servants of your adversary

1.1.89109128And yours, close fighting ere I did approach.

1.1.90110129I drew to part them; in the instant came

1.1.91111130The fiery Tybalt with his sword prepared,

1.1.92112131Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,

1.1.93113132He swung about his head and cut the winds,

1.1.94114133Who nothing hurt withal, hissed him in scorn.

1.1.95115134While we were interchanging thrusts and blows

1.1.96116135Came more and more, and fought on part and part,

1.1.97117136Till the Prince came, who parted either part.

O, where is Romeo? Saw you him today?

1.1.99119138Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

Madam, an hour before the worshiped sun

1.1.101121140Peered forth the golden window of the east,

1.1.102122141A troubled mind drew me to walk abroad,

1.1.103123142Where underneath the grove of sycamore,

1.1.104124143That westward rooteth from this city side,

1.1.105125144So early walking did I see your son.

1.1.106126145Towards him I made, but he was ware of me

1.1.107127146And stole into the covert of the wood.

1.1.108128147I, measuring his affections by my own,

1.1.109129148Which then most sought where most might not be found.

1.1.110130149Being one too many by my weary self,

1.1.111131150Pursued my humor, not pursuing his,

1.1.112132151And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.

Many a morning hath he there been seen

1.1.114134153With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew.

1.1.115135154Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs.

1.1.116136155But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

1.1.117137156Should in the farthest east begin to draw

1.1.118138157The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,

1.1.119139158Away from light steals home my heavy son,

1.1.120140159And private in his chamber pens himself,

1.1.121141160Shuts up his windows, locks fair daylight out,

1.1.122142161And makes himself an artificial night.

1.1.123143162Black and portentous must this humor prove,

1.1.124144163Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

I neither know it nor can learn of him.

Have you importuned him by any means?

Both by my self and many other friends,

1.1.129149168But he, his own affections' counselor,

1.1.130150169Is to himself--I will not say how true--

1.1.131151170But to himself so secret and so close,

1.1.132152171So far from sounding and discovery,

1.1.133153172As is the bud bit with an envious worm

1.1.134154173Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air

1.1.135155174Or dedicate his beauty to the same.

1.1.136156175Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,

1.1.137157176We would as willingly give cure as know.

See where he comes. [Points to Romeo.]So please you, step aside.

1.1.140160179I'll know his grievance or be much denied.

I would thou wert so happy by thy stay

1.1.142162181To hear true shrift.-- [To Wife] Come, madam, let's away.

Good morrow, cousin.

Is the day so young?

But new struck nine.

Ay me, sad hours seem long.

1.1.148167187Was that my father that went hence so fast?

It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

Not having that, which having, makes them short.

In love?

Out.

Of love?

Out of her favor where I am in love.

Alas that love, so gentle in his view,

1.1.156175195Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.

Alas that love, whose view is muffled still,

1.1.158177197Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will.

1.1.159178198Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?

1.1.160179199Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

1.1.161180200Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.

1.1.162181201Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,

1.1.163182202O any thing of nothing first created!

1.1.164183203O heavy lightness, serious vanity,

1.1.165184204Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,

1.1.166185205Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,

1.1.167186206Still-waking sleep that is not what it is.

1.1.168187207This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

1.1.169188208Dost thou not laugh?

No, coz, I rather weep.

Good heart, at what?

At thy good heart's oppression.

Why, such is love's transgression.

1.1.174193213Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,

1.1.175194214Which thou wilt propagate to have it pressed

1.1.176195215With more of thine; this love that thou hast shown

1.1.177196216Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

1.1.178197217Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs,

1.1.179198218Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes,

1.1.180199219Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears,

1.1.181200220What is it else? A madness, most discreet,

1.1.182201221A choking gall, and a preserving sweet.

1.1.183202222Farewell, my coz.

Soft, I will go along

1.1.185204224And if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here.

1.1.187206226This is not Romeo; he's some other where.

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love?

What, shall I groan and tell thee?

Groan? Why, no, but sadly tell me who.

A sick man in sadness makes his will.

1.1.192211231A word ill-urged to one that is so ill.

1.1.193212232In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

[Exasperated tone.]I aimed so near, when I supposed you loved.

A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.

A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

Well, in that hit you miss. She'll not be hit

1.1.198217237With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit,

1.1.199218238And in strong proof of chastity well armed,

1.1.200219239From love's weak childish bow she lives uncharmed.

1.1.201220240She will not stay the siege of loving terms,

1.1.202221241Nor bide th'encounter of assailing eyes,

1.1.203222242Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold,

1.1.204223243O she is rich, in beauty only poor,

1.1.205224244That when she dies, with beauty dies her store.

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste.

1.1.208227247For beauty starved with her severity

1.1.209228248Cuts beauty off from all posterity.

1.1.210229249She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair

1.1.211230250To merit bliss by making me despair.

1.1.212231251She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow,

1.1.213232252Do I live dead, that live to tell it now.

Be ruled by me; forget to think of her.

O, teach me how I should forget to think.

By giving liberty unto thine eyes.

1.1.217236256Examine other beauties.

'Tis the way to call hers--exquisite--in question more;

1.1.219238258These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows,

1.1.220239259Being black, puts us in mind they hide the fair.

1.1.221240260He that is strucken blind cannot forget

1.1.222241261The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

1.1.223242262Show me a mistress that is passing fair,

1.1.224243263What doth her beauty serve but as a note

1.1.225244264Where I may read who passed that passing fair?

1.1.226245265Farewell, thou canst not teach me to forget.

1.1.228I'll pay that doctrine or else die in debt.

But Montague is bound as well as I,

1.2.3249269In penalty alike, and 'tis not hard, I think,

1.2.4250270For men so old as we to keep the peace.

Of honorable reckoning are you both,

1.2.6252272And pity 'tis, you lived at odds so long.

1.2.7253273But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

But saying o'er what I have said before:

1.2.9255275My child is yet a stranger in the world;

1.2.10256276She hath not seen the change of fourteen years.

1.2.11257277Let two more summers wither in their pride

1.2.12258278Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

And too soon marred are those so early made.

1.2.15261281Earth hath swallowed all my hopes but she,

1.2.16262282She's the hopeful lady of my earth.

1.2.17263283But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart.

1.2.18264284My will to her consent is but a part,

1.2.19265285And, she agreed, within her scope of choice

1.2.20266286Lies my consent. and fair according voice.

1.2.21267287This night I hold an old accustomed feast

1.2.22268288Whereto I have invited many a guest,

1.2.23269289Such as I love, and you among the store,

1.2.24270290One more, most welcome, makes my number more.

1.2.25271291At my poor house, look to behold this night

1.2.26272292Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light.

1.2.27273293Such comfort as do lusty young men feel

1.2.28274294When well-appareled April on the heel

1.2.29275295Of limping winter treads, even such delight

1.2.30276296Among fresh fennel buds shall you this night

1.2.31277297Inherit at my house. Hear all, all see,

1.2.32278298And like her most whose merit most shall be,

1.2.33279299Which one more view of many, mine being one,

1.2.34280300May stand in number, though in reck'ning none.

1.2.35281301Come, go with me.-- [To Serving-man] Go, sirrah, trudge about

1.2.37282302Through fair Verona. Find those persons out

1.2.38283303Whose names are written there, and to them say

1.2.39284304My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

Find them out whose names are written here! It is 286307written that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard and the 287308tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil and the painter with 288309his nets. But I am sent to find those persons whose names are 289310here writ and can never find what names the writing person 290311hath here writ. I must to the learned. In good time!

Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning.

1.2.44294314One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

1.2.45295315Turn giddy, and be helped by backward turning.

1.2.46296316One desperate grief cures with another's languish.

1.2.47297317Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

1.2.48298318And the rank poison of the old will die.

Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.

For what, I pray thee?

For your broken shin.

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

Not mad, but bound more than a madman is.

1.2.55304324Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

1.2.56305325Whipped and tormented, and -- [Serving-man approaches them.][To Serving-man] God-den, good fellow.

God gi'god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?[Holds out letter to Romeo.]

Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Perhaps you have learned it without book. 309329But I pray, can you read any thing you see?

Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Ye say honestly; rest you merry.

Stay, fellow, I can read. [Takes letter.]313333

320340A fair assembly. Whither should they come?

Up.

Whither? To supper?

To our house.

Whose house?

My master's.

Indeed, I should have asked you that before.

Now I'll tell you without asking. My master is the great 328348rich Capulet, and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I 329349pray come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry.Exit Serving-man.

At this same ancient feast of Capulet's

1.2.72332351Sups the fair Rosaline, whom thou so loves,

1.2.73333352With all the admired beauties of Verona.

1.2.74334353Go thither, and with unattainted eye

1.2.75335354Compare her face with some that I shall show,

1.2.76336355And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

When the devout religion of mine eye

1.2.78338357Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fire,

1.2.79339358And these who, often drowned, could never die,

1.2.80340359Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars.

1.2.81341360One fairer than my love? The all-seeing sun

1.2.82342361Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.

Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by.

1.2.84344363Herself poised with herself in either eye.

1.2.85345364But in that crystal scales let there be weighed

1.2.86346365Your lady's love against some other maid

1.2.87347366That I will show you shining at this feast,

1.2.88348367And she shall scant show well that now seems best.

I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,

1.2.90350369But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.[Exeunt Benvolio and Romeo.]

Nurse, where's my daughter? Call her forth to me.

Now by my maidenhead, at twelve year old I bade her 354373come.-- [To Juliet]

[Calls loudly]What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid, 355374where's this girl? What, Juliet!

How now, who calls?

Your mother.

Madam, I am here. What is your will?

This is the matter. Nurse, give leave a while; we must talk 361380in secret. [Nurse starts to leave.]Nurse, come back again. I have remembered me; 362381thou's hear our counsel. Thou knowest my daughter's of a 363382pretty age.

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

She's not fourteen.

I'll lay fourteen of my teeth, and yet, to my teen be it 367386spoken, I have but four, she's not fourteen. 369387How long is it now to Lammas-tide?

A fortnight and odd days.

Even or odd, of all days in the year, come Lammas Eve at 372390night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she, God rest all Christian souls, 373391were of an age. Well, Susan is with God; she was too good for me. But 374392as I said, on Lammas Eve at night shall she be fourteen, that shall 375393she, marry, I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now 377394eleven years, and she was weaned--I never shall forget it--of all the days 378395of the year upon that day, for I had then laid wormwood to my 379396dug, sitting in the sun under the dovehouse wall. My lord and 380397you were then at Mantua--nay, I do bear a brain. But, as I said, 381398when it did taste the wormwood on the nipple of my dug and 383399felt it bitter, pretty fool, to see it tetchy and fall out with the dug. 384400"Shake," quoth the dovehouse; 'twas no need, I trow, to bid me trudge. 385401And since that time it is eleven years, for then she could stand high-lone, 386402nay, by th'rood, she could have run and waddled all about, for even 388403the day before, she broke her brow, and then my husband--God be with 389404 his soul; 'a was a merry man--took up the child; "Yea," quoth he, "dost 390405thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more 391406wit, wilt thou not, Jule?" And by my holydam, the pretty wretch left 393407crying, and said "Ay." To see now how a jest shall come about! I warrant, 394408an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it: "Wilt thou 395409not, Jule?" quoth he, and, pretty fool, it stinted, and said "Ay."

Enough of this; I pray thee hold thy peace.

Yes, Madam, yet I can not choose but laugh, to think it 399412should leave crying, and say "Ay," and yet I warrant it had upon its brow, a 400413bump as big as a young cockerel's stone, a perilous knock, and it cried 401414bitterly. "Yea," quoth my husband, "Fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall 402415backward when thou comest to age, wilt thou not, Jule?" It stinted, 404416and said "Ay."

And stint thou too, I pray thee, Nurse, say I.

Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace, thou 407419wast the prettiest babe that ere I nursed. An I might live to see thee 408420married once, I have my wish.

Marry, that marry is the very theme

1.3.19410422I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,

1.3.20411423How 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 414426hadst sucked wisdom from thy teat.

Well, think of marriage now. Younger than you

1.3.24416428Here in Verona, ladies of esteem

1.3.25417429Are made already mothers. By my count,

1.3.26418430I was your mother much upon these years

1.3.27419431That you are now a maid. Thus, then, in brief:

1.3.28420432The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

A man, young lady, lady, such a man as all the world--422434why he's a man of wax.

Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower.

What say you? Can you love the gentleman?

1.3.33426438This night you shall behold him at our feast.

1.3.34427439Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face

1.3.35428440And find delight, writ there with beauty's pen;

1.3.36429441Examine every married lineament

1.3.37430442And see how one another lends content;

1.3.38431443And what obscured in this fair volume lies,

1.3.39432444Find written in the margent of his eyes.

1.3.40433445This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

1.3.41434446To beautify him, only lacks a cover.

1.3.42435447The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride

1.3.43436448For fair without the fair, within to hide.

1.3.44437449That book in many's eyes doth share the glory

1.3.45438450That in gold clasps locks in the golden story.

1.3.46439451So shall you share all that he doth possess,

1.3.47440452By having him, making your self no less.

No less? Nay, bigger; women grow by men.

Speak briefly; can you like of Paris' love?

I'll look to like, if looking liking move.

1.3.51444456But no more deep will I endart mine eye,

1.3.52445457Than your consent gives strength to make fly.

Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, 448459my young lady asked for, the Nurse cursed in the pantry, and 449460everything in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you 450461follow straight.

We follow thee. Juliet, the County stays.

Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

1.4.3457468Or shall we on without apology?

The date is out of such prolixity,

1.4.5459470We'll have no Cupid, hoodwinked with a scarf,

1.4.6460471Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,

1.4.7461472Scaring the ladies like a crowkeeper.

1.4.8462473But let them measure us by what they will,

1.4.9463474We'll measure them a measure and be gone.

Give me a torch; I am not for this ambling.

1.4.11465476Being but heavy I will bear the light.

Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

Not I, believe me, you have dancing shoes

1.4.14468479With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead

1.4.15469480So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,

1.4.17471482And soar with them above a common bound.

I am too sore enpiercèd with his shaft

1.4.19473484To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,

1.4.20474485I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe.

1.4.21475486Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

And to sink in it should you burden love,

1.4.23477488Too great oppression for a tender thing.

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough,

1.4.25479490Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

If love be rough with you, be rough with love.

1.4.27481492Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

1.4.28482493Give me a case to put my visage in,[Puts on mask.]

1.4.29483494A visor for a visor! What care I

1.4.30484495What curious eye doth cote deformities?

1.4.31485496Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Come, knock and enter, and no sooner in,

1.4.33487498But every man betake him to his legs.

A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart

1.4.35489500Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels.

1.4.36490501For I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase,

1.4.37491502I'll be a candle-holder and look on.

1.4.38492503The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word.

1.4.40494505If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire,

1.4.41495506Or, save your reverence, love, wherein thou stickest

1.4.42496507Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

Nay, that's not so.

I mean, sir, in delay.

1.4.45499510We waste our lights, in vain light lights by day.

1.4.46500511Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

1.4.47501512Five times in that ere once in our fine wits.

And we mean well in going to this masque,

1.4.49503514But 'tis no wit to go.

Why, may one ask?

I dreamt a dream tonight.

And so did I.

Well, what was yours?

That dreamers often lie.

In bed asleep while they do dream things true.

O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you.

1.4.57511522She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

1.4.58512523In shape no bigger than an agate stone

1.4.59512.1523.1On the forefinger of an alderman,

1.4.60513524Drawn with a team of little atomi

1.4.61513.1524.1Over men's noses as they lie asleep.

1.4.62514525Her wagon spokes made of long spinners' legs,

1.4.63515526The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers,

1.4.64515.1526.1Her traces of the smallest spider web,

1.4.65516527Her collars of the moonshine's watery beams,

1.4.66516.1527.1Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,

1.4.67518528Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat,

1.4.68519529Not half so big as a round litle worm,

1.4.69519.1529.1Pricked from the lazy finger of a man.

1.4.70520530Her chariot is an empty hazelnut,

1.4.71521531Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

1.4.72521.1531.1Time out o'mind, the fairies' coachmakers.

1.4.73522532And in this state she gallops night by night

1.4.74524533Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love.

1.4.75525534On courtiers' knees, that dream on curtsies straight;

1.4.76525.1534.1O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;

1.4.77526535O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,

1.4.78527536Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

1.4.79528537Because their breath with sweetmeats tainted are.

1.4.80528.1537.1Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,

1.4.81529538And then dreams he of smelling out a suit, and sometime comes

1.4.82530539And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail,

1.4.83530.1539.1Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,

1.4.84531540Then he dreams of another benefice.

1.4.85531.1540.1Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,

1.4.86532541And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

1.4.87533542Of breaches, ambuscados, Spanish blades,

1.4.88535543Of healths five-fathom deep, and then anon

1.4.89535.1543.1Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,

1.4.90536544And being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two,

1.4.91537545And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

1.4.92537.1545.1That plaits the manes of horses in the night

1.4.93538546And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,

1.4.94539547Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes.

1.4.95541548This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,

1.4.96542549That presses them and learns them first to bear,

1.4.97543550Making them women of good carriage.

1.4.98544551This is she--

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,

1.4.100546553Thou talk'st of nothing.

True, I talk of dreams,

1.4.102548555Which are the children of an idle brain,

1.4.103549556Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

1.4.104550557Which is as thin of substance as the air

1.4.105551558And more inconstant than the wind who woos

1.4.106552559Even now the frozen bosom of the north

1.4.107553560And, being angered, puffs away from thence,

1.4.108554561Turning his side to the dew-dropping south.

This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves,

1.4.110556563Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

I fear too early, for my mind misgives

1.4.112558565Some consequence yet hanging in the stars

1.4.113559566Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

1.4.114560567With this night's revels, and expire the term

1.4.115561568Of a despisèd life closed in my breast

1.4.116562569By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

1.4.117563570But he that hath the steerage of my course

1.4.118564571Direct my suit. On, lusty gentlemen.

Strike, drum.

Where's Potpan that he helps not to take away?

1.5.3570577He shift a trencher? He scrape a trencher?

When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands

1.5.5572579And they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

Away with the joint stools, remove the court cupboard, 574581look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane, 575582and, as thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and 576583Nell.-- Anthony and Potpan!

Ay, boy, ready.

You are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for in 579586the great chamber.

We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys!

1.5.11581588Be brisk a while, and the longer liver take all.

Welcome, gentlemen. Ladies that have their toes

1.5.15587593Unplagued with corns will walk about with you.

1.5.16588594Ah, my mistresses, which of you all

1.5.17589595Will now deny to dance? She that makes dainty,

1.5.18590596She I'll swear hath corns. Am I come near ye now?

1.5.19591597Welcome, gentlemen. I have seen the day

1.5.20592598That I have worn a visor and could tell

1.5.21593599A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear

1.5.22594600Such as would please. 'Tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone.

1.5.23595601You are welcome, gentlemen. Come, musicians, play.

1.5.23.1596602Music plays and they dance[except for Capulet, his cousin, and Romeo].

1.5.25597603A hall, a hall, give room! And foot it, girls.--

1.5.26598604[To Servants] More light, you knaves, and turn the tables up

1.5.27599605And quench the fire. The room is grown too hot.

1.5.28600606Ah, sirrah, this unlooked-for sport comes well.--

1.5.29601607[To Cousin] Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet,

1.5.30602608For you and I are past our dancing days.

1.5.31603609How long is't now since last yourself and I

1.5.32604610Were in a masque?

By'r lady, thirty years.

What, man, 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much.

1.5.35607613'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,

1.5.36608614Come Pentecost as quickly as it will,

1.5.37609615Some five and twenty years, and then we masqued.

'Tis more, 'tis more. His son is elder, sir.

1.5.39611617His son is thirty.

Will you tell me that?

1.5.41613619His son was but a ward two years ago.

[To Serving-man]What lady's that which doth enrich the hand

1.5.43615621Of yonder knight?

I know not, sir.

[To himself]O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

1.5.46618624It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

1.5.47619625As a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear,

1.5.48620626Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.

1.5.49621627So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,

1.5.50622628As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

1.5.51623629The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,

1.5.52624630And touching hers, make blessèd my rude hand.

1.5.53625631Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight,

1.5.54626632For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

This, by his voice, should be a Montague.

1.5.56628634[To Serving-man] Fetch me my rapier, boy. [To himself] What, dares the slave

1.5.57629635Come hither covered with an antic face

1.5.58630636To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?

1.5.59631637Now, by the stock and honor of my kin,

1.5.60632638To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.

Why, how now, kinsman, wherefore storm you so?

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,

1.5.63636641A villain that is hither come in spite

1.5.64637642To scorn at our solemnity this night.

Young Romeo, is it?

'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone.

1.5.68641646'A bears him like a portly gentleman,

1.5.69642647And, to say truth, Verona brags of him

1.5.70643648To be a virtuous and well-governed youth.

1.5.71644649I would not for the wealth of all this town

1.5.72645650Here in my house do him disparagement.

1.5.73646651Therefore be patient; take no note of him.

1.5.74647652It is my will, the which if thou respect,

1.5.75648653Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,

1.5.76649654An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

It fits when such a villain is a guest.

1.5.78651656I'll not endure him.

He shall be endured.

1.5.80653658What, goodman boy, I say he shall. Go to!

1.5.81654659Am I the master here or you? Go to.

1.5.82655660You'll not endure him? God shall mend my soul,

1.5.83656661You'll make a mutiny among my guests?

1.5.84657662You will set cock-a-hoop? You'll be the man?

Why, Uncle, 'tis a shame.

Go to, go to.

1.5.87660665You are a saucy boy. Is't so, indeed?

1.5.88661666This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what.

1.5.89662667You must contrary me? Marry, 'tis time.--

1.5.90663668[To Guests] Well said, my hearts.-- [To Tybalt] You are a princox; go,

1.5.91664669Be quiet, or-- [To Servants] More light, more light!-- [To Tybalt] for shame,

1.5.92665670I'll make you quiet.-- [To Guests] What, cheerly, my hearts!

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting

1.5.94667672Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.

1.5.95668673I will withdraw, but this intrusion shall,

1.5.96669674Now seeming sweet, convert to bitt'rest gall.

[To Juliet] If I prophane with my unworthiest hand [Takes her hand.]

1.5.99671676This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:

1.5.100672677My lips two blushing pilgrims did ready stand

1.5.101673678To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

1.5.103676680Which mannerly devotion shows in this,

1.5.104677681For saints have hands, that pilgrims' hands do touch,

1.5.105678682And 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,

1.5.109682686They 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.

1.5.113686689Thus 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!

1.5.116689692Give me my sin 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,

1.5.122694697Her mother is the lady of the house,

1.5.123695698And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous,

1.5.124696699I nursed her daughter that you talked withal.

1.5.125697700I tell you: he that can lay hold of her

1.5.126698701Shall have the chinks.

[Aside (?)] Is she a Capulet?

1.5.128700703O dear account! My life is my foe's debt.

Away, begone. The sport is at the best.

Ay, so I fear. The more is my unrest.

Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone,

1.5.132704707We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.

1.5.133705708Is it e'en so? Why, then, I thank you all.

1.5.134706709I thank you, honest gentlemen, good night.--

1.5.135707710[To Serving-men] More torches here! Come on! Then let's to bed.

1.5.136708711Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late;

1.5.137709712I'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,

1.5.145718720My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

His name is Romeo, and a Montague,

1.5.148720722The only son of your great enemy.

My only love sprung from my only hate!

1.5.150722724Too early seen, unknown, and known too late.

1.5.151723725Prodigious birth of love it is to me

1.5.152724726That I must love a loathèd enemy.

What's 'tis? What's 'tis?

A rhyme I learned even now

1.5.155727729Of one I danced withal.

[To Caller]Anon, anon.--

1.5.158730732[To Juliet] Come, let's away, the strangers all are gone.

2.0.1732734[Enter Chorus]Chorus

2.0.2733735Now old desire doth in his deathbed lie,

2.0.3734736And young affection gapes to be his heir;

2.0.4735737That fair for which love groaned for and would die,

2.0.5736738With tender Juliet matched, is now not fair.

2.0.6737739Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,

2.0.7738740Alike bewitched by the charm of looks,

2.0.8739741But to his foe supposed he must complain,

2.0.9740742And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks.

2.0.10741743Being held a foe, he may not have access

2.0.11742744To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear,

2.0.12743745And she, as much in love, her means much less,

2.0.13744746To meet her new belovèd anywhere.

2.0.14745747But passion lends them power, time means, to meet,

2.0.15746748Temp'ring extremities with extreme sweet.[Exit]

Can I go forward when my heart is here?

2.1.3749751Turn back dull earth and find thy center out.

Romeo! My cousin Romeo! Romeo!

He is wise, and on my life, hath stol'n him home to bed.

He ran this way and leapt this orchard wall.

2.1.8755756Call, good Mercutio:

2.1.9756757Nay, I'll conjure too.

Romeo! Humors! Madman! Passion! Lover!

2.1.11758759Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh;

2.1.12759760Speak but one rhyme and I am satisfied:

2.1.13760761Cry but "ay me"; pronounce but "love" and "dove."

2.1.14761762Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

2.1.15762763One nickname for her purblind son and heir,

2.1.16763764Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so true

2.1.17764765When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid.

2.1.18765766He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not.

2.1.19766767The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.

2.1.20767768I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,

2.1.21768769By her high forehead, and her scarlet lip,

2.1.22769770By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering thigh,

2.1.23770771And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

2.1.24771772That in thy likeness thou appear to us.

An if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

This cannot anger him; 'twould anger him

2.1.27774775To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

2.1.28775776Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

2.1.29776777Till she had laid it and conjured it down:

2.1.30777778That were some spite. My invocation

2.1.31778779Is fair and honest, in his mistress' name.

2.1.32779780I conjure only but to raise up him.

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees

2.1.34781782To be consorted with the humorous night.

2.1.35782783Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

2.1.37784785Now will he sit under a medlar tree

2.1.38785786And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

2.1.39786787As maids call medlars when they laugh alone.

2.1.40787788O Romeo, that she were, O that she were

2.1.41788789An open-arse, thou a popperin' pear!

2.1.42789790Romeo, good night, I'll to my truckle bed,

2.1.43790791This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep.

2.1.44791792Come, shall we go?

Go then, for 'tis in vain to seek him here

2.1.46793794That means not to be found.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

2.1.49795796But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?[Juliet enters above.]

2.1.50796797It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

2.1.51797798Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

2.1.52798799Who is already sick and pale with grief

2.1.53799800That thou her maid art far more fair than she.

2.1.54800801Be not her maid since she is envious.

2.1.55801802Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

2.1.56802803And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

2.1.57803804It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!

2.1.58804805She speaks; yet she says nothing. What of that?

2.1.59805806Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

2.1.60806807I am too bold; 'tis not to me she speaks.

2.1.61807808Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

2.1.62808809Having some business, do entreat her eyes

2.1.63809810To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

2.1.64810811What if her eyes were there, they in her head?

2.1.65811812The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

2.1.66812813As daylight doth a lamp; her eye in heaven

2.1.67813814Would through the airy region stream so bright

2.1.68814815That birds would sing and think it were not night.

2.1.69815816See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.[Juliet rests her face on the palm of her hand.]

2.1.70816817O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

2.1.71817818That I might touch that cheek.

Ay me.

[To self] She speaks.

2.1.74820821O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art

2.1.75821822As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,

2.1.76822823As is a wingèd messenger of heaven

2.1.77823824Unto the white upturnèd wond'ring eyes

2.1.78824825Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

2.1.79825826When he bestrides the lazy puffing clouds

2.1.80826827And sails upon the bosom of the air.

[To herself]O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

2.1.82828829Deny thy father and refuse thy name,

2.1.83829830Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

2.1.84830831And 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.

2.1.87833834Thou art thy self, though not a Montague.

2.1.88834835What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot,

2.1.89835836Nor arm nor face, nor any other part

2.1.90836837Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

2.1.91837838What's in a name? That which we call a rose

2.1.92838839By any other word would smell as sweet.

2.1.93839840So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,

2.1.94840841Retain that dear perfection which he owes

2.1.95841842Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

2.1.96842843And for thy name which is no part of thee,

2.1.97843844Take all myself.

[To Juliet] I take thee at thy word.

2.1.99845846Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized.

2.1.100846847Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

What man art thou, that thus bescreened in night

2.1.102848849So stumblest on my counsel?

By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am.

2.1.104851851My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

2.1.105852852Because it is an enemy to thee.

2.1.106853853Had I it written, I would tear the word.

My ears have yet not drunk a hundred words

2.1.108855855Of thy tongue's uttering, yet I know the sound.

2.1.109856856Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?

Neither, fair maid, if either thee dislike.

How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

2.1.112860859The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

2.1.113861860And the place death, considering who thou art,

2.1.114862861If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls,

2.1.116865863For stony limits cannot hold love out,

2.1.117866864And what love can do, that dares love attempt:

2.1.118867865Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

2.1.121870868Than twenty of their swords. Look thou but sweet,

2.1.122871869And 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,

2.1.125874872And but thou love me, let them find me here.

2.1.126875873My life were better ended by their hate

2.1.127876874Than death proroguèd wanting of thy love.

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

By love that first did prompt me to inquire.

2.1.130879877He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

2.1.131880878I am no pilot, yet wert thou as far

2.1.132881879As that vast shore washeth with the farthest sea,

2.1.133882880I should adventure for such merchandise.

Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face,

2.1.135884882Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

2.1.136885883For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

2.1.137886884Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain, deny

2.1.138887885What I have spoke, but farewell, compliment.

2.1.139888886Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "Ay,"

2.1.140889887And I will take thy word, yet if thou swear'st,

2.1.141890888Thou mayst prove false. At lover's perjuries

2.1.142891889They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

2.1.143892890If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully;

2.1.144893891Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

2.1.145894892I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,

2.1.146895893So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world.

2.1.147896894In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

2.1.148897895And therefore thou mayst think my behavior light,

2.1.149898896But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

2.1.150899897Than those that have more coying to be strange.

2.1.151900898I should have been more strange, I must confess,

2.1.152901899But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,

2.1.153902900My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,

2.1.154903901And not impute this yielding to light love,

2.1.155904902Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow,

2.1.157906904That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--

O, swear not by the moon, th'inconstant moon,

2.1.159908906That monthly changes in her circle orb,

2.1.160909907Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

What shall I swear by?

Do not swear at all.

2.1.163912910Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,

2.1.164913911Which is the god of my idolatry,

2.1.165914912And I'll believe thee.

If my heart's dear love--

Well, do not swear. Although I joy in thee,

2.1.168917915I have no joy of this contract tonight.

2.1.169918916It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden,

2.1.170919917Too like the lightning which doth cease to be

2.1.171920918Ere one can say, "It lightens." Sweet, good night.

2.1.172921919This bud of love by summer's ripening breath

2.1.173922920May prove a beautious flower when next we meet.

2.1.174923921Good night, good night. As sweet repose and rest

2.1.175924922Come 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,

2.1.180929927And 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,

2.1.183933930And yet I wish but for the thing I have.

2.1.184934931My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

2.1.185935932My love as deep; the more I give to thee

2.1.186936933The more I have, for both are infinite.

2.1.187937934I hear some noise within. Dear love, adieu.--

2.1.188939935[To Nurse] Anon, good Nurse!--[To Romeo] Sweet Montague, be true.

2.1.189940936Stay but a little; I will come again.

O blessèd, blessèd night! I am afeard,

2.1.191942938Being in night, all this is but a dream,

2.1.192943939Too flattering sweet to be substantial.

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.

2.1.194946941If that thy bent of love be honorable,

2.1.195947942Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow,

2.1.196948943By one that I'll procure to come to thee,

2.1.197949944Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite,

2.1.198950945And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay

2.1.199951946And follow thee, my lord, throughout the world--

[Calls from offstage]Madam.

[To Nurse]I come, anon!--[To Romeo] But if thou meanest not well,

2.1.202954948I do beseech thee--[To Nurse] By and by I come!--

2.1.203954.1948.1Nurse[Calls from offstage]Madam!

2.1.204956949Juliet[To Romeo] To cease thy strife, and leave me to my grief.

2.1.205957950Tomorrow will I send.

So thrive my soul.

A thousand times good night.

A thousand times the worse to want thy light.

2.1.209961954Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books,

2.1.210962955But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Hist, Romeo, hist! O for a falc'ner's voice

2.1.214965958To lure this tassel-gentle back again.

2.1.215966959Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud,

2.1.216967960Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies

2.1.217968961And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine

2.1.218969962With repetition of my "Romeo."

It is my soul that calls upon my name.

2.1.221971964How silver sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,

2.1.222972965Like softest music to attending ears.

Romeo.

My niesse?

What o'clock tomorrow

2.1.226976969Shall I send to thee?

By the hour of nine.

I will not fail; 'tis twenty year till then.

2.1.229979972I 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,

2.1.232982975Rememb'ring how I love thy company.

And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,

2.1.234984977Forgetting any other home but this.

'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone,

2.1.236986979And yet no farther then a wanton's bird,

2.1.237987980That lets it hop a little from his hand,

2.1.238988981Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

2.1.239989982And with a silken thread, plucks it back again,

2.1.240990983So loving-jealous of his liberty.

I would I were thy bird.

Sweet, so would I,

2.1.243993986Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

2.1.244994987Good night, good night.

2.1.245995988Parting is such sweet sorrow

2.1.246996989That I shall say "good night" till it be morrow.

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast.

Would I were sleep and peace so sweet to rest.

2.1.2501003996Hence will I to my ghostly Friar's close cell,

2.1.2511004997His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

The gray-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,

2.3.410071001Check'ring the eastern clouds with streaks of light,

2.3.510081002And fleckled darkness like a drunkard reels

2.3.610091003From forth day's path, and Titan's burning wheels.

2.3.710101004Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,

2.3.810111005The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,

2.3.910121006I must upfill this osier cage of ours

2.3.1010131007With baleful weeds and precious-juicèd flowers.

2.3.1110141008The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;

2.3.1210151009What is her burying grave, that is her womb,

2.3.1310161010And from her womb children of diverse kind

2.3.1410171011We sucking on her natural bosom find

2.3.1510181012Many for many virtues excellent,

2.3.1610191013None but for some, and yet all different.

2.3.1710201014O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies

2.3.1810211015In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities,

2.3.1910221016For nought so vile that on the earth doth live

2.3.2010231017But to the earth some special good doth give,

2.3.2110241018Nor ought so good but strained from that fair use,

2.3.2210251019Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse.

2.3.2310261020Virtue itself turns vice being misapplied,

2.3.2410271021And vice sometime by action dignified.

2.3.2610291023Within the infant rind of this weak flower

2.3.2710301024Poison hath residence and medicine power,

2.3.2810311025For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part,

2.3.2910321026Being tasted, stays all senses with the heart.

2.3.3010331027Two such opposèd kings encamp them still

2.3.3110341028In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will,

2.3.3210351029And where the worser is predominant,

2.3.3310361030Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

Good morrow, father.

Benedicite!

2.3.3610391033What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?

2.3.3710401034Young son, it argues a distempered head

2.3.3810411035So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed.

2.3.3910421036Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,

2.3.4010431037And where care lodges, sleep will never lie,

2.3.4110441038But where unbruised youth with unstuffed brain

2.3.4210451039Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign.

2.3.4310461040Therefore thy earliness doth me assure

2.3.4410471041Thou art uproused with some distemp'rature,

2.3.4510481042Or if not so, then here I hit it right,

2.3.4610491043Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.

That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.

God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? No,

2.3.5010531047I have forgot that name and that name's woe.

That's my good son, but where hast thou been then?

I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.

2.3.5310561050I have been feasting with mine enemy,

2.3.5410571051Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,

2.3.5510581052That's by me wounded. Both our remedies

2.3.5610591053Within thy help and holy physic lies.

2.3.5710601054I bear no hatred, blessèd man, for lo

2.3.5810611055My intercession likewise steads my foe.

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;

2.3.6010631057Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set

2.3.6210651059On the fair daughter of rich Capulet;

2.3.6310661060As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine,

2.3.6410671061And all combined, save what thou must combine

2.3.6510681062By holy marriage. When, and where, and how

2.3.6610691063We met, we wooed, and made exchange of vow,

2.3.6710701064I'll tell thee as we pass, but this I pray,

2.3.6810711065That thou consent to marry us today.

Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!

2.3.7010731067Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,

2.3.7110741068So soon forsaken? Young men's love then lies

2.3.7210751069Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

2.3.7310761070Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine

2.3.7410771071Hath washed thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

2.3.7510781072How much salt water thrown away in waste

2.3.7610791073To season love that of it doth not taste.

2.3.7710801074The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears

2.3.7810811075Thy old groans yet ringing in mine ancient ears:

2.3.7910821076Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit

2.3.8010831077Of an old tear that is not washed off yet.

2.3.8110841078If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,

2.3.8210851079Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline.

2.3.8310861080And art thou changed? Pronounce this sentence then:

2.3.8410871081Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.

Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

And bad'st me bury love.

Not in a grave,

2.3.8910921086To lay one in, another out to have.

I pray thee, chide me not. Her I love now

2.3.9110941088Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.

2.3.9210951089The other did not so.

O, she knew well,

2.3.9410971091Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.

2.3.9510981092But come, young waverer, come, go with me.

2.3.9610991093In one respect I'll thy assistant be:

2.3.9711001094For this alliance may so happy prove

2.3.9811011095To turn your households' rancour to pure love.

O, let us hence, I stand on sudden haste.

Wisely and slow, they stumble that run fast.

Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not 11071101home tonight?

Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.

Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline, 11101104Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet, hath sent a letter to his 11121106father's house.

A challenge, on my life.

Romeo will answer it.

Any man that can write may answer a letter.

Nay, he will answer the letter's master how he dares, 11171111being dared.

Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead, stabbed with a 11191113white wench's black eye, run through the ear with a love 11201114song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind 11211115bow-boy's butt-shaft; and is he a man to encounter 11221116Tybalt?

Why, what is Tybalt?

More than Prince of Cats. O, he's the courageous 11251119captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps 11261120time, distance and proportion; he rests his minum rests, one two, 11271121and the third in your bosom--the very butcher of a silk 11281122button--a duellist, a duellist, a gentleman of the very first house of the 11291123first and second cause. Ah, the immortal passado, the punto 11301124reverso, the hay!

The what?

The pox of such antic lisping affecting fantasticos, 11331127these new tuners of accent! By Jesu, a very good blade, a very 11341128tall man, a very good whore! Why, is not this a lamentable thing, 11351129grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange 11361130flies, these fashion-mongers, these "pardon-me"'s, who stand so 11371131much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old 11381132bench. O, their bones, their bones!

Here comes Romeo; here comes Romeo!

Without his roe, like a dried herring. O flesh, flesh, 11431136how art thou fishified? Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch 11441137flowed in. Laura to his lady was a kitchen wench--marry, 11451138she had a better love to berhyme her--Dido a dowdy, Cleopatra 11461139a gypsy, Helen and Hero hildings and harlots, Thisbe a gray 11471140eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signor Romeo, bonjour, there's 11481141a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the 11491142counterfeit fairly last night.

Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give 11521144you?

The slip, sir, the slip. Can you not conceive?

Pardon, good Mercutio,my business was great, and in 11551147such a case as mine, a man may strain courtesy.

That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains 11571149a 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 11661158out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn, the jest 11671159may 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. 11751164For thou hast more of the wild goose in one of thy wits, than I 11761165am sure I have in my whole five. Was I with you there for the 11771166goose?

Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast 11791168not 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 11861174inch narrow to an ell broad.

I stretch it out for that word "broad," which added to the 11881176goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? Now 11901178art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo, now art thou what thou 11911179art, by art as well as by nature, for this driveling love is like a 11921180great natural that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble 11931181in 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 11981186was come to the whole depth of my tale, and meant indeed to 11991187occupy the argument no longer.

Here's goodly gear. Enter Nurse and her man, Peter.

12021189A 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 12131199is 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? 12181203Gentlemen, 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 12211205have found him than he was when you sought him. I am the 12221206youngest 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 12321214something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

12371219Romeo, will you come to your father's? We'll to dinner thither.

I will follow you.

Farewell, ancient lady, farewell lady, [sings] "lady, lady."

I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this that was 12441224so full of his ropery?

A gentleman, Nurse, that loves to hear himself talk 12461226and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a 12471227month.

And 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down 12491229an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty such jacks, and if I 12501230cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave, I am none 12511231of his flirt gills, I am none of his skains-mates.--[To Peter] And thou must 12521232stand by too and suffer every knave to use me at his 12531233pleasure?

I saw no man use you at his pleasure. If I had, my weapon 12551235should quickly have been out. I warrant you, I dare draw as soon 12561236as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on 12571237my side.

Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me 12591239quivers. Scurvy knave! [To Romeo]Pray you, sir, a word. And as I told you, 12601240my young lady bid me inquire you out; what she bid me say, I 12611241will keep to myself, but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead 12621242her in a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of 12631243behavior as they say. For the gentlewoman is young, and 12641244therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill 12651245thing to be offered to any gentlewoman and very weak 12661246dealing.

Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress, I 12681248protest unto thee.

Good heart, and i'faith I will tell her as much. Lord, Lord, 12701250she will be a joyful woman.

What wilt thou tell her, Nurse? Thou dost not mark 12721252me.

I will tell her, sir, that you do protest, which, as I take it, 12741254is a gentlemanlike offer.

Bid her devise some means to come to shrift this afternoon,

2.4.8512761256And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell

2.4.8612771257Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.

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

2.4.9212821262Within this hour my man shall be with thee

2.4.9312831263And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair,

2.4.9412841264Which to the high topgallant of my joy

2.4.9512851265Must be my convoy in the secret night.

2.4.9612861266Farewell, be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains.

2.4.9712871267Farewell, 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 12911271counsel, putting one away"?

Warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.

Well, sir, my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, Lord, 12941274when 'twas a litle prating thing.--O, there is a nobleman in town, 12951275one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard, but she, good soul, 12961276had as lief see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her 12971277sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer man, but I'll warrant 12981278you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal 12991279world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a 13001280letter?

Ay, Nurse, what of that? Both with an R.

A mocker! That's the dog's name. R is for the--no, I know 13031283it begins with some other letter--and she hath the prettiest 13041284sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good 13051285to hear it.

Commend me to thy lady.[Exit Romeo]

Ay, a thousand times.--[To Peter] Peter.

Anon.

Before and apace.

The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse;

2.5.413121293In half an hour she promised to return.

2.5.513131294Perchance she cannot meet him? That's not so.

2.5.613141295O, she is lame! Love's heralds should be thoughts,

2.5.713151296Which ten times faster glides than the sun's beams,

2.5.813161297Driving back shadows over louring hills.

2.5.913171298Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw love,

2.5.1013181299And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

2.5.1113191300Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

2.5.1213201301Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve

2.5.1313211302Is three long hours, yet she is not come.

2.5.1413221303Had she affections and warm youthful blood

2.5.1513231304She would be as swift in motion as a ball.

2.5.1613241305My words would bandy her to my sweet love

2.5.1713251306And his to me, but old folks, many feign as they were dead:

2.5.1813271307Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.

2.5.2013291309O God, she comes! O, honey Nurse, what news?

2.5.2113301310Hast 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?

2.5.2413341313Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily.

2.5.2513351314If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news

2.5.2613361315By playing it to me with so sour a face.

I am aweary; give me leave a while.

2.5.2813381317Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunce have I!

I would thou hadst my bones and I thy news.

2.5.3013401319Nay, come! I pray thee speak. Good, good Nurse, speak.

Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay a while?

2.5.3213421321Do you not see that I am out of breath?

How art thou out of breath when thou hast breath

2.5.3413441323To say to me that thou art out of breath?

2.5.3513451324The excuse that thou dost make in this delay

2.5.3613461325Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.

2.5.3713471326Is thy news good or bad? Answer to that,

2.5.3813481327Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance.

2.5.3913491328Let me be satisfied: is't good or bad?

Well, you have made a simple choice. You know not 13511330how to choose a man. Romeo, no, not he though his face be 13521331better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's, and for a hand 13531332and a foot and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet 13541333they are past compare. He is not the flower of courtesy, but I'll 13551334warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench, serve 13561335God. What, have you dined at home?

No, no. But all this did I know before.

2.5.4213581337What says he of our marriage? What of that?

Lord, how my head aches! What a head have I!

2.5.4413601339It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

2.5.4513611340My back a't'other side. Ah, my back, my back.

2.5.4613621341Beshrew your heart for sending me about

2.5.4713631342To catch my death with jauncing up and down.

I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.

2.5.4913651344Sweet, sweet, sweet Nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Your love says like an honest gentleman

2.5.5113671346And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome,

2.5.5213681347And, I warrant, a virtuous--Where is your mother?

Where is my mother? Why, she is within. Where should she be?

2.5.5413711349How oddly thou repliest!

2.5.5513721350Your love says like an honest gentleman;

2.5.5613731351Where is your mother?

O God's lady dear,

2.5.5813751353Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow,

2.5.5913761354Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

2.5.6013771355Henceforward 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.

2.5.6513821360There stays a husband to make you a wife.

2.5.6613831361Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks;

2.5.6713841362They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.

2.5.6813851363Hie you to church; I must another way

2.5.6913861364To fetch a ladder by the which your love

2.5.7013871365Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark.

2.5.7113881366I am the drudge and toil in your delight.

2.5.7213891367But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

2.5.7313901368Go. I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.

Hie to high fortune! Honest Nurse, farewell.

So smile the heavens upon this holy act,

2.6.413941373That, after-hours, with sorrow chide us not.

Amen, amen, but come what sorrow can,

2.6.613961375It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

2.6.713971376That one short minute gives me in her sight.

2.6.813981377Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

2.6.913991378Then love-devouring death do what he dare.

2.6.1014001379It is enough I may but call her mine.

These violent delights have violent ends

2.6.1214021381And in their triumph die like fire and powder,

2.6.1314031382Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey

2.6.1414041383Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

2.6.1514051384And in the taste confounds the appetite.

2.6.1614061385Therefore love moderately; long love doth so.

2.6.1714071386Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

2.6.1914091388Here comes the lady. O, so light a foot

2.6.2014101389Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint.

2.6.2114111390A lover may bestride the gossamers

2.6.2214121391That idles in the wanton summer air

2.6.2314131392And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

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

2.6.2814181397Be heaped like mine, and that thy skill be more

2.6.2914191398To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

2.6.3014201399This neighbor air, and let rich music's tongue

2.6.3114211400Unfold the imagined happiness that both

2.6.3214221401Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,

2.6.3414241403Brags of his substance, not of ornament.

2.6.3514251404They are but beggars that can count their worth,

2.6.3614261405But my true love is grown to such excess,

2.6.3714271406I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

Come, come with me, and we will make short work.

2.6.3914291408For by your leaves, you shall not stay alone

2.6.4014301409Till holy church incorporate two in one.

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire.

3.1.414331412The day is hot, the Capels are abroad,

3.1.514341413And if we meet we shall not scape a brawl, for now these hot

14351414days, is the mad blood stirring.

Thou art like one of these fellows, that when he enters 14371416the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table 14381417and says, "God send me no need of thee" and by the operation 14391418of the second cup, draws him on the drawer, when indeed there 14401419is no need.

Am I like such a fellow?

Come, come, thou art as hot a jack in thy mood as 14431422any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon 14441423moody to be moved.

And what to?

Nay, an there were two such, we should have none 14471426shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou? Why, thou wilt 14481427quarrel with a man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his 14491428beard than thou hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking 14501429nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes. 14511430What eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head 14521431is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy 14531432head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarreling. Thou 14541433hast quarreled with a man for coughing in the street because he 14551434hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst 14571435thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet 14581436before Easter, with another for tying his new shoes with old 14591437ribbon? And yet thou wilt tutor me from quarreling?

An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should 14621439buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

The fee-simple? O, simple!

By my head, here comes the Capulets.

By my heel, I care not.

[To Companions] Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

3.1.1714691445[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 14711447something; make it a word and a blow.

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give 14731449me occasion.

Could you not take some occasion without 14751451giving?

Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo.

Consort? What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou 14781454make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's 14791455my fiddlestick[Draws sword.]; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, 14801456consort!

We talk here in the public haunt of men.

3.1.2514821458Either withdraw unto some private place,

3.1.2614831459Or reason coldly of your grievances,

3.1.2714841460Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.

Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze.

3.1.2914861462I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.

But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery.

3.1.3314901466Marry, go before to field; he'll be your follower,

3.1.3414911467Your worship in that sense may call him "man."

Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford

3.1.3614931469No better term than this: thou art a villain.

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

3.1.3814951471Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

3.1.3914961472To such a greeting: villain am I none.

3.1.4014971473Therefore, farewell, I see thou knowest me not.

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

3.1.4214991475That thou hast done me. Therefore turn and draw.

I do protest I never injured thee,

3.1.4415011477But love thee better than thou canst devise

3.1.4515021478Till thou shalt know the reason of my love.

3.1.4615031479And so, good Capulet, which name I tender

3.1.4715041480As dearly as mine own, be satisfied.

O calm, dishonorable, vile submission!

3.1.4915061482Alla stucatho carries it away.

3.1.5015071483Tybalt, you ratcatcher, will you walk?

What wouldst thou have with me?

Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives,

3.1.5315101486that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me

3.1.5415111487hereafter dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your

3.1.5515121488sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste, lest mine be

3.1.5615131489about your ears ere it be out.

I am for you.

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Come sir, your passado.

Draw, Benvolio, beat down their weapons.

3.1.6315181494Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!

3.1.6415191495Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath

3.1.6515201496Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.

3.1.6615211497Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

[Fatally wounded.]I am hurt.

3.1.7015241500A plague a both houses! I am sped.

3.1.7115251501Is he gone and hath nothing?

What, art thou hurt?

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. Marry 'tis enough,

3.1.7415281504Where 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

3.1.7715311507door, but 'tis enough. 'Twill serve. Ask for me tomorrow, and you

3.1.7815321508shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this

3.1.7915331509world. A plague a both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse,

3.1.8015341510a cat, to scratch a man to death! A braggart, a rogue, a villain

3.1.8115351511that fights by the book of arithmatic! Why the devil came you

3.1.8215361512between us? I was hurt under your arm.

I thought all for the best.

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

3.1.8515401515Or I shall faint. A plague a both your houses!

3.1.8615411516They have made worms' meat of me.

3.1.8715421517I have it, and soundly too. Your houses!

This gentleman, the Prince's near ally,

3.1.9015441520My very friend hath got this mortal hurt

3.1.9115451521In my behalf. My reputation stained

3.1.9215461522With Tybalt's slander--Tybalt that an hour

3.1.9315471523Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet,

3.1.9415481524Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

3.1.9515491525And in my temper softened valor's steel.

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio is dead,

3.1.9815521528That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,

3.1.9915531529Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

This day's black fate on more days doth depend.

3.1.10115551531This but begins the woe others must end.[Enter Tybalt.]

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

He 'gain? In triumph and Mercutio slain?

3.1.10415591534Away to heaven, respective lenity,

3.1.10515601535And fire and fury be my conduct now.

3.1.10615611536Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again

3.1.10715621537That late thou gavest me, for Mercutio's soul

3.1.10815631538Is but a little way above our heads,

3.1.10915641539Staying for thine to keep him company.

3.1.11015651540Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.

Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

3.1.11215671542Shalt with him hence.

This shall determine that.

Romeo, away, be gone!

3.1.11615711546The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.

3.1.11715721547Stand not amazed; the Prince will doom thee death

3.1.11815731548If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!

O, I am fortune's fool.

Why dost thou stay?

Which way ran he that killed Mercutio?

3.1.12415791554Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

There lies that Tybalt.

Up sir, go with me.

3.1.12715821557I charge thee in the Prince's name, obey.

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

O noble Prince, I can discover all

3.1.13115871562The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl.

3.1.13215881563There lies the man slain by young Romeo,

3.1.13315891564That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

Tybalt, my cousin, O my brother's child!

3.1.13515911566O Prince, O cousin, husband, O, the blood is spilled

3.1.13615921567Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,

3.1.13715931568For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.

3.1.13815941569O cousin, cousin!

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Tybalt here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay--

3.1.14115971572Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

3.1.14215981573How nice the quarrel was and urged withal

3.1.14315991574Your high displeasure. All this--uttered

3.1.14416001575With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed--

3.1.14516011576Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

3.1.14616021577Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts

3.1.14716031578With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,

3.1.14816041579Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

3.1.14916051580And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

3.1.15016061581Cold death aside, and with the other sends

3.1.15116071582It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

3.1.15216081583Retorts it; Romeo, he cries aloud,

3.1.15316091584"Hold friends, friends part!" and swifter than his tongue,

3.1.15416101585His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

3.1.15516111586And 'twixt them rushes, underneath whose arm

3.1.15616121587An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

3.1.15716131588Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled,

3.1.15816141589But by and by comes back to Romeo,

3.1.15916151590Who had but newly entertained revenge,

3.1.16016161591And to't they go like lightning, for ere I

3.1.16116171592Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain,

3.1.16216181593And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly;

3.1.16316191594This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

He is a kinsman to the Montague.

3.1.16516211596Affection makes him false; he speaks not true.

3.1.16616221597Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

3.1.16716231598And all those twenty could but kill one life.

3.1.16816241599I beg for justice, which thou, Prince, must give.

3.1.16916251600Romeo slew Tybalt; Romeo must not live.

Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio.

3.1.17116271602Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's friend.

3.1.17316291604His fault concludes but what the law should end:

3.1.17416301605The life of Tybalt.

And for that offense,

3.1.17616321607Immediately we do exile him hence.

3.1.17716331608I have an interest in your hearts' proceeding;

3.1.17816341609My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding.

3.1.17916351610But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine

3.1.18016361611That you shall all repent the loss of mine.

3.1.18116371612It will be deaf to pleading and excuses,

3.1.18216381613Nor tears, nor prayers shall purchase out abuses.

3.1.18316391614Therefore use none. Let Romeo hence in haste,

3.1.18416401615Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.

3.1.18516411616Bear hence this body and attend our will,

3.1.18616421617Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

3.2.416461621Towards Phoebus' lodging. Such a wagoner

3.2.516471622As Phaeton would whip you to the west,

3.2.616481623And bring in cloudy night immediately.

3.2.716491624Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,

3.2.816501625That runaways' eyes may wink, and Romeo

3.2.916511626Leap to these arms, untalked of and unseen.

3.2.1016521627Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

3.2.1116531628By their own beauties, or, if love be blind,

3.2.1216541629It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,

3.2.1316551630Thou sober-suited matron all in black,

3.2.1416561631And learn me how to lose a winning match

3.2.1516571632Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods.

3.2.1616581633Hood my unmanned blood, bating in my cheeks,

3.2.1716591634With thy black mantle, till strange love grow bold,

3.2.1816601635Think true love acted simple modesty.

3.2.1916611636Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night,

3.2.2016621637For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night,

3.2.2116631638Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.

3.2.2216641639Come, gentle night; come, loving black-browed night;

3.2.2316651640Give me my Romeo, and when I shall die,

3.2.2416661641Take him and cut him out in little stars

3.2.2516671642And he will make the face of heaven so fine

3.2.2616681643That all the world will be in love with night

3.2.2716691644And pay no worship to the garish sun.

3.2.2816701645O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

3.2.2916711646But not possessed it, and though I am sold,

3.2.3016721647Not yet enjoyed. So tedious is this day

3.2.3116731648As is the night before some festival

3.2.3216741649To an impatient child that hath new robes

3.2.3316751650And may not wear them. O, here comes my Nurse.

3.2.3516771652And she brings news, and every tongue that speaks

3.2.3616781653But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.

3.2.3716791654Now, Nurse, what news? What hast thou there?

3.2.3816801655The 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.

3.2.4216851659We are undone, lady, we are undone.

3.2.4316861660Alack the day, he's gone, he's killed, he's dead.

Can heaven be so envious?

Romeo can,

3.2.4616891663Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!

3.2.4716901664Whoever would have thought it? Romeo!

What devil art thou that dost torment me thus?

3.2.4916931666This torture should be roared in dismal hell.

3.2.5016941667Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but "Ay,"

3.2.5116951668And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more

3.2.5216961669Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice,

3.2.5316971670I am not I, if there be such an ay,

3.2.5416981671Or those eyes shut, that makes thee answer "Ay."

3.2.5516991672If he be slain, say "Ay," or if not, "No."

3.2.5617001673Brief sounds determine my weal or woe.

I saw the wound; I saw it with mine eyes--

3.2.5817021675God save the mark!--here [Points to her breast]on his manly breast.

3.2.5917031676A piteous corpse, a bloody piteous corpse,

3.2.6017041677Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaubed in blood,

3.2.6117051678All in gore blood. I swoonèd at the sight.

O break, my heart; poor bankrupt, break at once!

3.2.6317081680To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty.

3.2.6417091681Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here

3.2.6517101682And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier.

O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!

3.2.6717121684O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman,

3.2.6817131685That ever I should live to see thee dead.

What storm is this that blows so contrary?

3.2.7017151687Is Romeo slaughtered? And is Tybalt dead?

3.2.7117161688My dearest cousin and my dearer lord?

3.2.7217171689Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!

3.2.7317181690For who is living, if those two are gone?

Tybalt is gone and Romeo banishèd,

3.2.7517201692Romeo that killed him, he is banishèd.

O God, did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

3.2.7717231694NurseIt did, it did. Alas the day, it did.

O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face!

3.2.7917251696Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

3.2.8017261697Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical,

3.2.8117271698Dove-feathered raven, wolvish-ravening lamb,

3.2.8217291699Despised substance of divinest show,

3.2.8317301700Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,

3.2.8417311701A damnèd saint, an honorable villain.

3.2.8517321702O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell

3.2.8617331703When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

3.2.8717341704In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?

3.2.8817351705Was ever book containing such vile matter

3.2.8917361706So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell

3.2.9017371707In such a gorgeous palace.

There's no trust, no faith, no honesty in men.

3.2.9217391709All perjured, all forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

3.2.9317401710Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua-vitae.

3.2.9417411711These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.

3.2.9517421712Shame come to Romeo.

Blistered be thy tongue

3.2.9717441714For such a wish; he was not born to shame.

3.2.9817451715Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit,

3.2.9917461716For 'tis a throne where honor may be crowned

3.2.10017471717Sole monarch of the universal earth.

3.2.10117481718O, 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?

3.2.10417521721Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name

3.2.10517531722When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?

3.2.10617541723But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?

3.2.10717551724That villain cousin would have killed my husband.

3.2.10817561725Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;

3.2.10917571726Your tributary drops belong to woe,

3.2.11017581727Which you mistaking offer up to joy.

3.2.11117591728My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,

3.2.11217601729And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband.

3.2.11317611730All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then?

3.2.11417621731Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,

3.2.11517631732That murdered me; I would forget it fain,

3.2.11617641733But O, it presses to my memory

3.2.11717651734Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners' minds:

3.2.11817661735"Tybalt is dead and Romeo banishèd."

3.2.11917671736That "banishèd," that one word "banishèd"

3.2.12017681737Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death

3.2.12117691738Was woe enough if it had ended there,

3.2.12217701739Or if sour woe delights in fellowship,

3.2.12317711740And needly will be ranked with other griefs,

3.2.12417721741Why followed not when she said "Tybalt's dead,"

3.2.12517731742"Thy father" or "thy mother," nay or both,

3.2.12617741743Which modern lamentation might have moved?

3.2.12717751744But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,

3.2.12817761745"Romeo is banishèd"! To speak that word

3.2.12917771746Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

3.2.13017781747All slain, all dead. "Romeo is banishèd."

3.2.13117791748There is no end, no limit, measure, bound

3.2.13217801749In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.

3.2.13317811750Where is my father and my mother, Nurse?

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corpse.

3.2.13517831752Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

Wash they his wounds with tears? Mine shall be spent,

3.2.13717851754When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.

3.2.13817861755Take up those cords. Poor ropes, you are beguiled,

3.2.13917871756Both you and I, for Romeo is exiled.

3.2.14017881757He made you for a highway to my bed,

3.2.14117891758But I a maid, die maiden-widowèd.

3.2.14217901759Come, cords; come, Nurse, I'll to my wedding bed,

3.2.14317911760And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead.