Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day.

3.5.420341996It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

3.5.520351997That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.

3.5.620361998Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.

3.5.720371999Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

3.5.920392001No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks

3.5.1020402002Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.

3.5.1120412003Night's candles are burnt out, and jocond day

3.5.1220422004Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.

3.5.1320432005I must be gone and live or stay and die.

Yond light is not daylight; I know it, I.

3.5.1520452007It is some meteor that the sun exhales

3.5.1620462008To be to thee this night a torch-bearer

3.5.1720472009And light thee on thy way to Mantua.

3.5.1820482010Therefore, stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.

Let me be ta'en; let me be put to death.

3.5.2020502012I am content, so thou wilt have it so.

3.5.2120512013I'll say yon gray is not the the morning's eye;

3.5.2220522014'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow,

3.5.2320532015Nor that is not the lark whose notes do beat

3.5.2420542016The vaulty heaven so high above our heads.

3.5.2520552017I have more care to stay than will to go.

3.5.2620562018Come death and welcome. Juliet wills it so.

3.5.2720572019How is't, my soul? Let's talk. It is not day.

It is, it is. Hie hence, begone, away!

3.5.2920592021It is the lark that sings so out of tune,

3.5.3020602022Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.

3.5.3120612023Some say the lark makes sweet division;

3.5.3220622024This doth not so, for she divideth us.

3.5.3320632025Some say the lark and loathèd toad change eyes;

3.5.3420642026O now I would they had changed voices too,

3.5.3520652027Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,

3.5.3620662028Hunting thee hence, with hunt's-up to the day.

3.5.3720672029O, now be gone! More light and light it grows.

More light and light, more dark and dark our

2031woes.

Madam.

Nurse?

Your lady mother is coming to your chamber,

3.5.4320732036The day is broke. Be wary; look about.

Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

Farewell, farewell, one kiss and I'll descend.

Art thou gone so? Love, lord, ay, husband, friend,

3.5.4820772040I must hear from thee every day in the hour,

3.5.4920782041For in a minute there are many days.

3.5.5020792042O, by this count I shall be much in years

3.5.5120802043Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Farewell.

3.5.5320822045I will omit no opportunity

3.5.5420832046That 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

3.5.5720862049For sweet discourses in our times to come.

O God, I have an ill-divining soul.

3.5.5920882051Methinks I see thee now, thou art so low,

3.5.6020892052As one dead in the bottom of a tomb;

3.5.6120902053Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

And trust me, love, in my eye so do you.

3.5.6320922055Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu.

O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle.

3.5.6620942058If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him

3.5.6720952059That is renowned for faith? Be fickle, Fortune,

3.5.6820962060For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,

3.5.6920972061But send him back.

Ho, daughter, are you up?

Who is't that calls? It is my lady mother.

3.5.7321012065Is she not down so late or up so early?

3.5.7421022066What unaccustomed cause procures her hither?[Juliet exits aloft, then re-enters on main stage.]

Why, how now, Juliet?

Madam, I am not well.

Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?

3.5.7821062070What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?

3.5.7921072071And if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live.

3.5.8021082072Therefore have done; some grief shows much of love,

3.5.8121092073But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend

3.5.8421122076Which you weep for.

Feeling so the loss,

3.5.8621142078I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,

3.5.8821162080As that the villain lives which slaughtered him.

What villain, madam?

That same villain Romeo.

Villain and he be many miles asunder.

3.5.9221202084God pardon him, I do with all my heart,

3.5.9321212085And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

That is because the traitor murderer lives.

Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands;

3.5.9621242088Would none but I might venge my cousin's death.

We will have vengeance for it; fear thou not.

3.5.9821262090Then weep no more; I'll send to one in Mantua,

3.5.9921272091Where that same banished runagate doth live,

3.5.10021282092Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram,

3.5.10121292093That he shall soon keep Tybalt company,

3.5.10221302094And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.

Indeed I never shall be satisfied

3.5.10421322096With Romeo till I behold him. Dead

3.5.10521332097Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed.

3.5.10621342098Madam, if you could find out but a man

3.5.10721352099To bear a poison, I would temper it,

3.5.10821362100That Romeo should upon receipt thereof,

3.5.10921372101Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors

3.5.11021382102To hear him named and cannot come to him

3.5.11121392103To wreak the love I bore my cousin

3.5.11221402104Upon his body that hath slaughtered him.

Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man,

3.5.11421422106But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

And joy comes well in such a needy time.

3.5.11621442108What are they, beseech your ladyship?

Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child,

3.5.11821462110One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,

3.5.11921472111Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy

3.5.12021482112That thou expects not, nor I looked not for.

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,

3.5.12321512115The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,

3.5.12421522116The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church

3.5.12521532117Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

Now, by Saint Peter's Church, and Peter too,

3.5.12721552119He shall not make me there a joyful bride.

3.5.12821562120I wonder at this haste, that I must wed

3.5.12921572121Ere he that should be husband comes to woo.

3.5.13021582122I pray you tell my lord and father, madam,

3.5.13121592123I will not marry yet, and when I do, I swear

3.5.13221602124It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate

3.5.13321612125Rather than Paris; these are news indeed.

Here comes your father; tell him so yourself

3.5.13521632127And see how he will take it at your hands.

When the sun sets, the earth doth drizzle dew,

3.5.13821662130But for the sunset of my brother's son,

3.5.13921672131It rains downright. How now, a conduit, girl? What! Still in tears,

3.5.14021692132Evermore show'ring? In one litle body

3.5.14121702133Thou counterfeits a bark, a sea, a wind,

3.5.14221712134For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,

3.5.14321722135Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,

3.5.14421732136Sailing in this salt flood; the winds thy sighs,

3.5.14521742137Who, raging with thy tears and they with them,

3.5.14621752138Without a sudden calm will overset

3.5.14721762139Thy tempest-tossèd body. How now, wife,

3.5.14821772140Have you delivered to her our decree?

Ay, sir, but she will none; she gives you thanks.

3.5.15021802142I would the fool were married to her grave.

Soft, take me with you; take me with you, wife.

3.5.15221822144How will she none? Doth she not give us thanks?

3.5.15321832145Is she not proud? Doth she not count her blessed,

3.5.15421842146Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought

3.5.15521852147So worthy a gentleman to be her bride?

Not proud you have, but thankful that you have.

3.5.15721882149Proud can I never be of what I hate,

3.5.15821892150But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.

How, how, how, how, chopped logic? What is this?

3.5.16021922152"Proud," and "I thank you," and "I thank you not,"

3.5.16121932153And yet, "not proud," mistress minion you?

3.5.1622154Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,

3.5.16321942155But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next

3.5.16421952156To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,

3.5.16521962157Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

3.5.16621972158Out, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage,

3.5.16721982159You tallow face!

Fie, fie! What, are you mad?

Good father, I beseech you on my knees;

3.5.17022012162Hear me with patience, but to speak a word.

Hang thee, young baggage, disobedient wretch.

3.5.17322032164I tell thee what: get thee to church a' Thursday,

3.5.17422042165Or never after look me in the face.

3.5.17522052166Speak not, reply not, do not answer me.

3.5.17622062167My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blessed

3.5.17722072168That God had lent us but this only child,

3.5.17822082169But now I see this one is one too much,

3.5.17922092170And that we have a curse in having her.

3.5.18022102171Out on her, hilding!

God in heaven bless her.

3.5.18222122173You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

And why, my lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue.

3.5.18422142175Good Prudence, smatter with your gossips, go.

I speak no treason.

3.5.18622162177CapuletO, God'i'good'e'en.

3.5.18722172178NurseMay not one speak?

Peace, you mumbling fool.

3.5.18922192180Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,

3.5.19022202181For here we need it not.

You are too hot.

God's bread, it makes me mad,

3.5.19322232184Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,

3.5.19422242185Alone, in company, still my care hath been

3.5.19522252186To have her matched, and having now provided

3.5.19622262187A gentleman of noble parentage,

3.5.19722272188Of fair demesnes, youthful and nobly lined,

3.5.19822282189Stuffed, as they say, with honorable parts,

3.5.19922292190Proportioned as one's thought would wish a man,

3.5.20022302191And then to have a wretched puling fool,

3.5.20122312192A whining mammet, in her fortunes tender,

3.5.20222322193To answer, "I'll not wed; I cannot love;

3.5.20322332194I am too young; I pray you pardon me."

3.5.20422342195But an you will not wed, I'll pardon you.

3.5.20522352196Graze where you will; you shall not house with me,

3.5.20622362197Look to't, think on't; I do not use to jest.

3.5.20722372198Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise.

3.5.20822382199An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;

3.5.20922392200An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets.

3.5.21022402201For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,

3.5.21122412202Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:

3.5.21222422203Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn.

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds

3.5.21522442206That sees into the bottom of my grief?

3.5.21622452207O, sweet my mother, cast me not away.

3.5.21722462208Delay this marriage for a month, a week,

3.5.21822472209Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed

3.5.21922482210In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;

3.5.22122502212Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

O God, O Nurse, how shall this be prevented?

3.5.22422532215My husband is on earth; my faith in heaven.

3.5.22522542216How shall that faith return again to earth,

3.5.22622552217Unless that husband send it me from heaven

3.5.22722562218By leaving earth? Comfort me; counsel me.

3.5.22822572219Alack, alack, that heaven should practice stratagems

3.5.22922582220Upon so soft a subject as myself.

3.5.23022592221What sayst thou? Hast thou not a word of joy?

3.5.23122602222Some comfort, Nurse.

Faith, here it is. Romeo is banished and all the world to nothing,

3.5.23322632224That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you,

3.5.23422642225Or if he do, it needs must be by stealth.

3.5.23522652226Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,

3.5.23622662227I think it best you married with the County.

3.5.23722672228O, he's a lovely gentleman!

3.5.23822682229Romeo's a dishclout to him. An eagle, madam,

3.5.23922692230Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye

3.5.24022702231As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,

3.5.24122712232I think you are happy in this second match,

3.5.24222722233For it excels your first, or if it did not,

3.5.24322732234Your first is dead, or 'twere as good he were,

3.5.24422742235As 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.

3.5.25022812241Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,

3.5.25122822242Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,

3.5.25222832243To make confession and to be absolved.

Marry, I will, and this is wisely done.[Exit Nurse.]

Ancient damnation, O most wicked fiend,

3.5.25522862246Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,

3.5.25622872247Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue

3.5.25722882248Which she hath praised him with above compare,

3.5.25822892249So many thousand times? Go, counselor,

3.5.25922902250Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.

3.5.26022912251I'll to the Friar to know his remedy,

3.5.26122922252If all else fail, myself have power to die.