Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Erin Sadlack
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Romeo and Juliet (Modern, Quarto 2)

[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.