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R o m e o a n d J u l i e t

ACT IPROLOGUETwo households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whose misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklersSAMPSONGregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. GREGORYNo, for then we should be colliers. SAMPSONI mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. GREGORYAy, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. SAMPSONI strike quickly, being moved. GREGORYBut thou art not quickly moved to strike. SAMPSONA dog of the house of Montague moves me. GREGORYTo move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. SAMPSONA dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. GREGORYThat shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. SAMPSONTrue; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. GREGORYThe quarrel is between our masters and us their men. SAMPSON'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads. GREGORYThe heads of the maids? SAMPSONAy, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. GREGORYThey must take it in sense that feel it. SAMPSONMe they shall feel while I am able to stand: and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. GREGORY'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes two of the house of the Montagues. SAMPSONMy naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. GREGORYHow! turn thy back and run? SAMPSONFear me not. GREGORYNo, marry; I fear thee! SAMPSONLet us take the law of our sides; let them begin. GREGORYI will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as they list. SAMPSONNay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR

ABRAHAMDo you bite your thumb at us, sir? SAMPSONI do bite my thumb, sir. ABRAHAMDo you bite your thumb at us, sir? SAMPSON[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say ay? GREGORYNo. SAMPSONNo, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I bite my thumb, sir. GREGORYDo you quarrel, sir? ABRAHAMQuarrel sir! no, sir. SAMPSONIf you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. ABRAHAMNo better. SAMPSONWell, sir. GREGORYSay 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. SAMPSONYes, better, sir. ABRAHAMYou lie. SAMPSONDraw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

They fight

Enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIOPart, fools! Put up your swords; you know not what you do.

Beats down their swords

Enter TYBALT

TYBALTWhat, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. BENVOLIOI do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me. TYBALTWhat, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!

They fight

Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs

First CitizenClubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET

CAPULETWhat noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! LADY CAPULETA crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? CAPULETMy sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

MONTAGUEThou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. LADY MONTAGUEThou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.

Enter PRINCE, with Attendants

PRINCERebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, And hear the sentence of your moved prince. Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, And made Verona's ancient citizens Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, To wield old partisans, in hands as old, Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: If ever you disturb our streets again, Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. For this time, all the rest depart away: You Capulet; shall go along with me: And, Montague, come you this afternoon, To know our further pleasure in this case, To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.

Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO

MONTAGUEWho set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? BENVOLIOHere were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them: in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, He swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, Came more and more and fought on part and part, Till the prince came, who parted either part. LADY MONTAGUEO, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? Right glad I am he was not at this fray. BENVOLIOMadam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made, but he was ware of me And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own, That most are busied when they're most alone, Pursued my humour not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. MONTAGUEMany a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from the light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove. BENVOLIOMy noble uncle, do you know the cause? MONTAGUEI neither know it nor can learn of him. BENVOLIOHave you importuned him by any means? MONTAGUEBoth by myself and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself--I will not say how true-- But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. We would as willingly give cure as know.

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIOSee, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. MONTAGUEI would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.

Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

BENVOLIOGood-morrow, cousin. ROMEOIs the day so young? BENVOLIOBut new struck nine. ROMEOAy me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? BENVOLIOIt was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? ROMEONot having that, which, having, makes them short. BENVOLIOIn love? ROMEOOut-- BENVOLIOOf love? ROMEOOut of her favour, where I am in love. BENVOLIOAlas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! ROMEOAlas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh? BENVOLIONo, coz, I rather weep. ROMEOGood heart, at what? BENVOLIOAt thy good heart's oppression. ROMEOWhy, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz. BENVOLIOSoft! I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. ROMEOTut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. BENVOLIOTell me in sadness, who is that you love. ROMEOWhat, shall I groan and tell thee? BENVOLIOGroan! why, no. But sadly tell me who. ROMEOBid a sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. BENVOLIOI aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. ROMEOA right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. BENVOLIOA right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. ROMEOWell, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, That when she dies with beauty dies her store. BENVOLIOThen she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? ROMEOShe hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, For beauty starved with her severity Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now. BENVOLIOBe ruled by me, forget to think of her. ROMEOO, teach me how I should forget to think. BENVOLIOBy giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. ROMEO'Tis the way To call hers exquisite, in question more: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. BENVOLIOI'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

Exeunt

SCENE II. A street.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and ServantCAPULETBut Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. PARISOf honourable reckoning are you both; And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? CAPULETBut saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world; She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, Let two more summers wither in their pride, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. PARISYounger than she are happy mothers made. CAPULETAnd too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, Whereto I have invited many a guest, Such as I love; and you, among the store, One more, most welcome, makes my number more. At my poor house look to behold this night Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: Such comfort as do lusty young men feel When well-apparell'd April on the heel Of limping winter treads, even such delight Among fresh female buds shall you this night Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, And like her most whose merit most shall be: Which on more view, of many mine being one May stand in number, though in reckoning none, Come, go with me.

To Servant, giving a paper

Go, sirrah, trudge about Through fair Verona; find those persons out Whose names are written there, and to them say, My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS

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

Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO

BENVOLIOTut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. ROMEOYour plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. BENVOLIOFor what, I pray thee? ROMEOFor your broken shin. BENVOLIOWhy, Romeo, art thou mad? ROMEONot mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. ServantGod gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? ROMEOAy, mine own fortune in my misery. ServantPerhaps you have learned it without book: but, I pray, can you read any thing you see? ROMEOAy, if I know the letters and the language. ServantYe say honestly: rest you merry! ROMEOStay, fellow; I can read.

Reads

'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair assembly: whither should they come? ServantUp. ROMEOWhither? ServantTo supper; to our house. ROMEOWhose house? ServantMy master's. ROMEOIndeed, I should have ask'd you that before. ServantNow I'll tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry!

Exit

BENVOLIOAt this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, With all the admired beauties of Verona: Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. ROMEOWhen the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; And these, who often drown'd could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. BENVOLIOTut, you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself poised with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now shows best. ROMEOI'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

Exeunt

SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and NurseLADY CAPULETNurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. NurseNow, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!

Enter JULIET

JULIETHow now! who calls? NurseYour mother. JULIETMadam, I am here. What is your will? LADY CAPULETThis is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. NurseFaith, I can tell her age unto an hour. LADY CAPULETShe's not fourteen. NurseI'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- She is not fourteen. How long is it now To Lammas-tide? LADY CAPULETA fortnight and odd days. NurseEven or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me: but, as I said, On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry; I remember it well. 'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- Of all the days of the year, upon that day: For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, To bid me trudge: And since that time it is eleven years; For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, She could have run and waddled all about; For even the day before, she broke her brow: And then my husband--God be with his soul! A' was a merry man--took up the child: 'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' To see, now, how a jest shall come about! I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' LADY CAPULETEnough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. NurseYes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' JULIETAnd stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. NursePeace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. LADY CAPULETMarry, that 'marry' is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? JULIETIt is an honour that I dream not of. NurseAn honour! were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. LADY CAPULETWell, think of marriage now; younger than you, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers: by my count, I was your mother much upon these years That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. NurseA man, young lady! lady, such a man As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. LADY CAPULETVerona's summer hath not such a flower. NurseNay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. LADY CAPULETWhat say you? can you love the gentleman? This night you shall behold him at our feast; Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; Examine every married lineament, And see how one another lends content And what obscured in this fair volume lies Find written in the margent of his eyes. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, To beautify him, only lacks a cover: The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride For fair without the fair within to hide: That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; So shall you share all that he doth possess, By having him, making yourself no less. NurseNo less! nay, bigger; women grow by

men. LADY CAPULETSpeak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? JULIETI'll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant

ServantMadam, the guests are come, supper served up, you called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. LADY CAPULETWe follow thee.

Exit Servant

Juliet, the county stays. NurseGo, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and othersROMEOWhat, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? Or shall we on without a apology? BENVOLIOThe date is out of such prolixity: We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance: But let them measure us by what they will; We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. ROMEOGive me a torch: I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light. MERCUTIONay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. ROMEONot I, believe me: you have dancing shoes With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. MERCUTIOYou are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. ROMEOI am too sore enpierced with his shaft To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink. MERCUTIOAnd, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. ROMEOIs love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. MERCUTIOIf love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in: A visor for a visor! what care I What curious eye doth quote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. BENVOLIOCome, knock and enter; and no sooner in, But every man betake him to his legs. ROMEOA torch for me: let wantons light of heart Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. MERCUTIOTut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! ROMEONay, that's not so. MERCUTIOI mean, sir, in delay We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits Five times in that ere once in our five wits. ROMEOAnd we mean well in going to this mask; But 'tis no wit to go. MERCUTIOWhy, may one ask? ROMEOI dream'd a dream to-night. MERCUTIOAnd so did I. ROMEOWell, what was yours? MERCUTIOThat dreamers often lie. ROMEOIn bed asleep, while they do dream things true. MERCUTIOO, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes In shape no bigger than an agate-stone On the fore-finger of an alderman, Drawn with a team of little atomies Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, The traces of the smallest spider's web, The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, Not so big as a round little worm Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. And in this state she gallops night by night Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, Then dreams, he of another benefice: Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two And sleeps again. This is that very Mab That plats the manes of horses in the night, And bakes the elflocks in foul

sluttish hairs, Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, That presses them and learns them first to bear, Making them women of good carriage: This is she-- ROMEOPeace, peace, Mercutio, peace! Thou talk'st of nothing. MERCUTIOTrue, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. BENVOLIOThis wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; Supper is done, and we shall come too late. ROMEOI fear, too early: for my mind misgives Some consequence yet hanging in the stars Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night's revels and expire the term Of a despised life closed in my breast By some vile forfeit of untimely death. But He, that hath the steerage of my course, Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. BENVOLIOStrike, drum.

Exeunt

SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkinsFirst ServantWhere's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! Second ServantWhen good manners shall lie all in one or two men's hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. First ServantAway with the joint-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. Antony, and Potpan! Second ServantAy, boy, ready. First ServantYou are looked for and called for, asked for and sought for, in the great chamber. Second ServantWe cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

CAPULETWelcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day That I have worn a visor and could tell A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.

Music plays, and they dance

More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; For you and I are past our dancing days: How long is't now since last yourself and I Were in a mask? Second CapuletBy'r lady, thirty years. CAPULETWhat, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: 'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, Come pentecost as quickly as it will, Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. Second Capulet'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; His son is thirty. CAPULETWill you tell me that? His son was but a ward two years ago. ROMEO[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand Of yonder knight? ServantI know not, sir. ROMEOO, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. TYBALTThis, by his voice, should be a Montague. Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. CAPULETWhy, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? TYBALTUncle, this is a Montague, our foe, A villain that is hither come in spite, To scorn at our solemnity this night. CAPULETYoung Romeo is it? TYBALT'Tis he, that villain Romeo. CAPULETContent thee, gentle coz, let him alone; He bears him like a portly gentleman; And, to say truth, Verona brags of him To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: I would not for the wealth of all the town Here in my house do him disparagement: Therefore be patient, take no note of him: It is my will, the which if thou respect, Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. TYBALTIt fits, when such a villain is a guest: I'll not endure him. CAPULETHe shall be endured: What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; Am I the master here, or you? go to. You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! You'll make a mutiny among my guests! You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! TYBALTWhy, uncle, 'tis a shame. CAPULETGo to, go to; You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! TYBALTPatience perforce with wilful choler meeting Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.

Exit

ROMEO[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIETGood pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. ROMEOHave not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIETAy, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEOO, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIETSaints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. ROMEOThen move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. JULIETThen have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEOSin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. JULIETYou kiss by the book. NurseMadam, your mother craves a word with you. ROMEOWhat is her mother? NurseMarry, bachelor, Her mother is the lady of the house, And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; I tell you, he that can lay hold of her Shall have the chinks. ROMEOIs she a Capulet? O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. BENVOLIOAway, begone; the sport is at the best. ROMEOAy, so I fear; the more is my unrest. CAPULETNay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: I'll to my rest.

Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse

JULIETCome hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? NurseThe son and heir of old Tiberio. JULIETWhat's he that now is going out of door? NurseMarry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. JULIETWhat's he that follows there, that would not dance? NurseI know not. JULIETGo ask his name: if he be married. My grave is like to be my wedding bed. NurseHis name is Romeo, and a Montague; The only son of your great enemy. JULIETMy only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy. NurseWhat's this? what's this? JULIETA rhyme I learn'd even now Of one I danced withal.

One calls within 'Juliet.'

NurseAnon, anon! Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

Exeunt

ACT IIPROLOGUE

Enter ChorusChorusNow old desire doth in his death-bed lie, And young affection gapes to be his heir; That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, But to his foe supposed he must complain, And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: Being held a foe, he may not have access To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; And she as much in love, her means much less To meet her new-beloved any where: But passion lends them power, time means, to meet Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

Exit

SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEOROMEOCan I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

BENVOLIORomeo! my cousin Romeo! MERCUTIOHe is wise; And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. BENVOLIOHe ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: Call, good Mercutio. MERCUTIONay, I'll conjure too. Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, That in thy likeness thou appear to us! BENVOLIOAnd if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. MERCUTIOThis cannot anger him: 'twould anger him To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle Of some strange nature, letting it there stand Till she had laid it and conjured it down; That were some spite: my invocation Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name I conjure only but to raise up him. BENVOLIOCome, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love and best befits the dark. MERCUTIOIf love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. Romeo, that she were, O, that she were An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, shall we go? BENVOLIOGo, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here that means not to be found.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEOROMEOHe jests at scars that never felt a wound.

JULIET appears above at a window

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek! JULIETAy me! ROMEOShe speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air. JULIETO Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet. ROMEO[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? JULIET'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself. ROMEOI take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. JULIETWhat man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night So stumblest on my counsel? ROMEOBy a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee; Had I it written, I would tear the word. JULIETMy ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? ROMEONeither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. JULIETHow camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here. ROMEOWith love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. JULIETIf they do see thee, they will murder thee. ROMEOAlack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. JULIETI would not for the world they saw thee here. ROMEOI have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. JULIETBy whose direction found'st thou out this place? ROMEOBy love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise. JULIETThou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if

thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered. ROMEOLady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- JULIETO, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ROMEOWhat shall I swear by? JULIETDo not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee. ROMEOIf my heart's dear love-- JULIETWell, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast! ROMEOO, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JULIETWhat satisfaction canst thou have to-night? ROMEOThe exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. JULIETI gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. ROMEOWouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? JULIETBut to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.

Nurse calls within

I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again.

Exit, above

ROMEOO blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIETThree words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Nurse[Within] Madam! JULIETI come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee-- Nurse[Within] Madam! JULIETBy and by, I come:-- To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I send. ROMEOSo thrive my soul-- JULIETA thousand times good night!

Exit, above

ROMEOA thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Retiring

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIETHist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, With repetition of my Romeo's name. ROMEOIt is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears! JULIETRomeo! ROMEOMy dear? JULIETAt what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee? ROMEOAt the hour of nine. JULIETI will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. ROMEOLet me stand here till thou remember it. JULIETI shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remembering how I love thy company. ROMEOAnd I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this. JULIET'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty. ROMEOI would I were thy bird. JULIETSweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Exit above

ROMEOSleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.

Exit

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basketFRIAR LAURENCEThe grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osier cage of ours With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave that is her womb, And from her womb children of divers kind We sucking on her natural bosom find, Many for many virtues excellent, None but for some and yet all different. O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: For nought so vile that on the earth doth live But to the earth some special good doth give, Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; And vice sometimes by action dignified. Within the infant rind of this small flower Poison hath residence and medicine power: For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. Two such opposed kings encamp them still In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; And where the worser is predominant, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEOGood morrow, father. FRIAR LAURENCEBenedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distemper'd head So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: Therefore thy earliness doth me assure Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; Or if not so, then here I hit it right, Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. ROMEOThat last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. FRIAR LAURENCEGod pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? ROMEOWith Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. FRIAR LAURENCEThat's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? ROMEOI'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy, Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, That's by me wounded: both our remedies Within thy help and holy physic lies: I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, My intercession likewise steads my foe. FRIAR LAURENCEBe plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. ROMEOThen plainly know my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combined, save what thou must combine By holy marriage: when and where and how We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, That thou consent to marry us to-day. FRIAR LAURENCEHoly Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste! The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. ROMEOThou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. FRIAR LAURENCEFor doting, not for loving, pupil mine. ROMEOAnd bad'st me bury love. FRIAR LAURENCENot in a grave, To lay one in, another out to have. ROMEOI pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; The other did not so. FRIAR LAURENCEO, she knew well Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. But come, young waverer, come, go with me, In one respect I'll thy assistant be; For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households' rancour to pure love. ROMEOO, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. FRIAR LAURENCEWisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIOMERCUTIOWhere the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home to-night? BENVOLIONot to his father's; I spoke with his man. MERCUTIOAh, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. BENVOLIOTybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. MERCUTIOA challenge, on my life. BENVOLIORomeo will answer it. MERCUTIOAny man that can write may answer a letter. BENVOLIONay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. MERCUTIOAlas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? BENVOLIOWhy, what is Tybalt? MERCUTIOMore than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very first house, of the first and second cause: ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hai! BENVOLIOThe what? MERCUTIOThe pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their bones, their bones!

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIOHere comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. MERCUTIOWithout his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night. ROMEOGood morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? MERCUTIOThe ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? ROMEOPardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. MERCUTIOThat's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. ROMEOMeaning, to court'sy. MERCUTIOThou hast most kindly hit it. ROMEOA most courteous exposition. MERCUTIONay, I am the very pink of courtesy. ROMEOPink for flower. MERCUTIORight. ROMEOWhy, then is my pump well flowered. MERCUTIOWell said: follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. ROMEOO single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness. MERCUTIOCome between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. ROMEOSwitch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. MERCUTIONay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: was I with you there for the goose? ROMEOThou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast not there for the goose. MERCUTIOI will bite thee by the ear for that jest. ROMEONay, good goose, bite not. MERCUTIOThy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. ROMEOAnd is it not well served in to a sweet goose? MERCUTIOO here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! ROMEOI stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. MERCUTIOWhy, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. BENVOLIOStop there, stop there. MERCUTIOThou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. BENVOLIOThou wouldst else have made thy tale large. MERCUTIOO, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. ROMEOHere's goodly gear!

Enter Nurse and PETER

MERCUTIOA sail, a sail! BENVOLIOTwo, two; a shirt and a smock. NursePeter! PETERAnon! NurseMy fan, Peter. MERCUTIOGood Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face. NurseGod ye good morrow, gentlemen. MERCUTIOGod ye good den, fair gentlewoman. NurseIs it good den? MERCUTIO'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. NurseOut upon you! what a man are you! ROMEOOne, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar. NurseBy my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo? ROMEOI can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. NurseYou say well. MERCUTIOYea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely, wisely. Nurseif you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you. BENVOLIOShe will indite him to some supper. MERCUTIOA bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! ROMEOWhat hast thou found? MERCUTIONo hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

Sings

An old hare hoar, And an old hare hoar, Is very good meat in lent But a hare that is hoar Is too much for a score, When it hoars ere it be spent. Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner, thither. ROMEOI will follow you. MERCUTIOFarewell, ancient lady; farewell,

Singing

'lady, lady, lady.'

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

NurseMarry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? ROMEOA gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, and will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month. NurseAn a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? PETERI saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my side. NurseNow, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. ROMEONurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto thee-- NurseGood heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. ROMEOWhat wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. NurseI will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. ROMEOBid her devise Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. NurseNo truly sir; not a penny. ROMEOGo to; I say you shall. NurseThis afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. ROMEOAnd stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: Within this hour my man shall be with thee And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; Which to the high top-gallant of my joy Must be my convoy in the secret night. Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. NurseNow God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. ROMEOWhat say'st thou, my dear nurse? NurseIs your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, Two may keep counsel, putting one away? ROMEOI warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. NURSEWell, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? ROMEOAy, nurse; what of that? both with an R. NurseAh. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for the--No; I know it begins with some other letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. ROMEOCommend me to thy lady. NurseAy, a thousand times.

Exit Romeo

Peter! PETERAnon! NursePeter, take my fan, and go before and apace.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

Enter JULIETJULIETThe clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; In half an hour she promised to return. Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills: Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve Is three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball; My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to me: But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. O God, she comes!

Enter Nurse and PETER

O honey nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. NursePeter, stay at the gate.

Exit PETER

JULIETNow, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face. NurseI am a-weary, give me leave awhile: Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! JULIETI would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. NurseJesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath? JULIETHow art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath To say to me that thou art out of breath? The excuse that thou dost make in this delay Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? NurseWell, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, though they be not to be talked on, yet they are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? JULIETNo, no: but all this did I know before. What says he of our marriage? what of that? NurseLord, how my head aches! what a head have I! It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! Beshrew your heart for sending me about, To catch my death with jaunting up and down! JULIETI' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? NurseYour love says, like an honest gentleman, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? JULIETWhere is my mother! why, she is within; Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! 'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, Where is your mother?' NurseO God's lady dear! Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; Is this the poultice for my aching bones? Henceforward do your messages yourself. JULIETHere's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? NurseHave you got leave to go to shrift to-day? JULIETI have. NurseThen hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; There stays a husband to make you a wife: Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. Hie you to church; I must another way, To fetch a ladder, by the which your love Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: I am the drudge and toil in your delight, But you shall bear the burden soon at night. Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. JULIETHie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEOFRIAR LAURENCESo smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after hours with sorrow chide us not! ROMEOAmen, amen! but come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy That one short minute gives me in her sight: Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Then love-devouring death do what he dare; It is enough I may but call her mine. FRIAR LAURENCEThese violent delights have violent ends And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey Is loathsome in his own deliciousness And in the taste confounds the appetite: Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Enter JULIET

Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: A lover may bestride the gossamer That idles in the wanton summer air, And yet not fall; so light is vanity. JULIETGood even to my ghostly confessor. FRIAR LAURENCERomeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. JULIETAs much to him, else is his thanks too much. ROMEOAh, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue Unfold the imagined happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter. JULIETConceit, more rich in matter than in words, Brags of his substance, not of ornament: They are but beggars that can count their worth; But my true love is grown to such excess I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. FRIAR LAURENCECome, come with me, and we will make short work; For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone Till holy church incorporate two in one.

Exeunt

ACT IIISCENE I. A public place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and ServantsBENVOLIOI pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. MERCUTIOThou art like one of those fellows that when he enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword upon the table and says 'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. BENVOLIOAm I like such a fellow? MERCUTIOCome, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved. BENVOLIOAnd what to? MERCUTIONay, an there were two such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling! BENVOLIOAn I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. MERCUTIOThe fee-simple! O simple! BENVOLIOBy my head, here come the Capulets. MERCUTIOBy my heel, I care not.

Enter TYBALT and others

TYBALTFollow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. MERCUTIOAnd but one word with one of us? couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. TYBALTYou shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give me occasion. MERCUTIOCould you not take some occasion without giving? TYBALTMercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- MERCUTIOConsort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! BENVOLIOWe talk here in the public haunt of men: Either withdraw unto some private place, And reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. MERCUTIOMen's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO

TYBALTWell, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. MERCUTIOBut I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' TYBALTRomeo, the hate I bear thee can afford No better term than this,--thou art a villain. ROMEOTybalt, the reason that I have to love thee Doth much excuse the appertaining rage To such a greeting: villain am I none; Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. TYBALTBoy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. ROMEOI do protest, I never injured thee, But love thee better than thou canst devise, Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. MERCUTIOO calm, dishonourable, vile submission! Alla stoccata carries it away.

Draws

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? TYBALTWhat wouldst thou have with me? MERCUTIOGood king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. TYBALTI am for you.

Drawing

ROMEOGentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. MERCUTIOCome, sir, your passado.

They fight

ROMEODraw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!

TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers

MERCUTIOI am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing? BENVOLIOWhat, art thou hurt? MERCUTIOAy, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

Exit Page

ROMEOCourage, man; the hurt cannot be much. MERCUTIONo, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm. ROMEOI thought all for the best. MERCUTIOHelp me into some house, Benvolio, Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, And soundly too: your houses!

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

ROMEOThis gentleman, the prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf; my reputation stain'd With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!

Re-enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIOO Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. ROMEOThis day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end. BENVOLIOHere comes the furious Tybalt back again. ROMEOAlive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity, And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!

Re-enter TYBALT

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul Is but a little way above our heads, Staying for thine to keep him company: Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. TYBALTThou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, Shalt with him hence. ROMEOThis shall determine that.

They fight; TYBALT falls

BENVOLIORomeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! ROMEOO, I am fortune's fool! BENVOLIOWhy dost thou stay?

Exit ROMEO

Enter Citizens, & c

First CitizenWhich way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? BENVOLIOThere lies that Tybalt. First CitizenUp, sir, go with me; I charge thee in the princes name, obey.

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others

PRINCEWhere are the vile beginners of this fray? BENVOLIOO noble prince, I can discover all The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. LADY CAPULETTybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. O cousin, cousin! PRINCEBenvolio, who began this bloody fray? BENVOLIOTybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal Your high displeasure: all this uttered With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats Cold death aside, and with the other sends It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, 'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than his tongue, His agile arm beats down their fatal points, And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; But by and by comes back to Romeo, Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. LADY CAPULETHe is a kinsman to the Montague; Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. PRINCERomeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? MONTAGUENot Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; His fault concludes but what the law should end, The life of Tybalt. PRINCEAnd for that offence Immediately we do exile him hence: I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine That you shall all repent the loss of mine: I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. Bear hence this body and attend our will: Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

Enter JULIETJULIETGallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner As Phaethon would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately. Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Think true love acted simple modesty. Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day As is the night before some festival To an impatient child that hath new robes And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.

Enter Nurse, with cords

Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords That Romeo bid thee fetch? NurseAy, ay, the cords.

Throws them down

JULIETAy me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? NurseAh, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! We are undone, lady, we are undone! Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! JULIETCan heaven be so envious? NurseRomeo can, Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! JULIETWhat devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: I am not I, if there be such an I; Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. NurseI saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. JULIETO, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! NurseO Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! That ever I should live to see thee dead! JULIETWhat storm is this that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! For who is living, if those two are gone? NurseTybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. JULIETO God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? NurseIt did, it did; alas the day, it did! JULIETO serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, A damned saint, an honourable villain! O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? Was ever book containing such vile matter So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell In such a gorgeous palace! NurseThere's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo! JULIETBlister'd be thy tongue For such a wish! he was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him! NurseWill you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? JULIETShall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Your tributary drops belong to woe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; But, O, it presses to my memory, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: 'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death Was woe enough, if it had ended there: Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, Which modern lamentations might have moved? But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, 'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? NurseWeeping and wailing

over Tybalt's corse: Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. JULIETWash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: He made you for a highway to my bed; But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! NurseHie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo To comfort you: I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. JULIETO, find him! give this ring to my true knight, And bid him come to take his last farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCEFRIAR LAURENCERomeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, And thou art wedded to calamity.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEOFather, what news? what is the prince's doom? What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, That I yet know not? FRIAR LAURENCEToo familiar Is my dear son with such sour company: I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. ROMEOWhat less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? FRIAR LAURENCEA gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, Not body's death, but body's banishment. ROMEOHa, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' FRIAR LAURENCEHence from Verona art thou banished: Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. ROMEOThere is no world without Verona walls, But purgatory, torture, hell itself. Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death: then banished, Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. FRIAR LAURENCEO deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, And turn'd that black word death to banishment: This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. ROMEO'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog And little mouse, every unworthy thing, Live here in heaven and may look on her; But Romeo may not: more validity, More honourable state, more courtship lives In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand And steal immortal blessing from her lips, Who even in pure and vestal modesty, Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; But Romeo may not; he is banished: Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: They are free men, but I am banished. And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? O friar, the damned use that word in hell; Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, To mangle me with that word 'banished'? FRIAR LAURENCEThou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. ROMEOO, thou wilt speak again of banishment. FRIAR LAURENCEI'll give thee armour to keep off that word: Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, To comfort thee, though thou art banished. ROMEOYet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. FRIAR LAURENCEO, then I see that madmen have no ears. ROMEOHow should they, when that wise men have no eyes? FRIAR LAURENCELet me dispute with thee of thy estate. ROMEOThou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, Doting like me and like me banished, Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground, as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

Knocking within

FRIAR LAURENCEArise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. ROMEONot I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.

Knocking

FRIAR LAURENCEHark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;

Knocking

Run to my study. By and by! God's will, What simpleness is this! I come, I come!

Knocking

Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? Nurse[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand; I come from Lady Juliet. FRIAR LAURENCEWelcome, then.

Enter Nurse

NurseO holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? FRIAR LAURENCEThere on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. NurseO, he is even in my mistress' case, Just in her case! O woful sympathy! Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; Why should you fall into so deep an O? ROMEONurse! NurseAh sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. ROMEOSpakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? Doth she not think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood removed but little from her own? Where is she? and how doth she? and what says My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? NurseO, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, And then down falls again. ROMEOAs if that name, Shot from the deadly level of a gun, Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, In what vile part of this anatomy Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack The hateful mansion.

Drawing his sword

FRIAR LAURENCEHold thy desperate hand: Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote The unreasonable fury of a beast: Unseemly woman in a seeming man! Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, I thought thy disposition better temper'd. Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, By doing damned hate upon thyself? Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, And usest none in that true use indeed Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Digressing from the valour of a man; Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, Misshapen in the conduct of them both, Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, Is set afire by thine own ignorance, And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: But look thou stay not till the watch be set, For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back With twenty hundred thousand times more joy Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; And bid her hasten all the house to bed, Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: Romeo is coming. NurseO Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. ROMEODo so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. NurseHere, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

Exit

ROMEOHow well my comfort is revived by this! FRIAR LAURENCEGo hence; good night; and here stands all your state: Either be gone before the watch be set, Or by the break of day disguised from hence: Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, And he shall signify from time to time Every good hap to you that chances here: Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. ROMEOBut that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARISCAPULETThings have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter: Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago. PARISThese times of woe afford no time to woo. Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. LADY CAPULETI will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. CAPULETSir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- But, soft! what day is this? PARISMonday, my lord, CAPULETMonday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, She shall be married to this noble earl. Will you be ready? do you like this haste? We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much: Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? PARISMy lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. CAPULETWell get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! Afore me! it is so very very late, That we may call it early by and by. Good night.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the windowJULIETWilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. ROMEOIt was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die. JULIETYon light is not day-light, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. ROMEOLet me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care to stay than will to go: Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. JULIETIt is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. Some say the lark makes sweet division; This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, O, now I would they had changed voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. ROMEOMore light and light; more dark and dark our woes!

Enter Nurse, to the chamber

NurseMadam! JULIETNurse? NurseYour lady mother is coming to your chamber: The day is broke; be wary, look about.

Exit

JULIETThen, window, let day in, and let life out. ROMEOFarewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.

He goeth down

JULIETArt 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 Ere I again behold my Romeo! ROMEOFarewell! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. JULIETO think'st thou we shall ever meet again? ROMEOI doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come. JULIETO God, I have an ill-divining soul! Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. ROMEOAnd trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

Exit

JULIETO fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back. LADY CAPULET[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? JULIETWho is't that calls? is it my lady mother? Is she not down so late, or up so early? What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULETWhy, how now, Juliet! JULIETMadam, I am not well. LADY CAPULETEvermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An 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. JULIETYet let me weep for such a feeling loss. LADY CAPULETSo shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you weep for. JULIETFeeling so the loss, Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. LADY CAPULETWell, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. JULIETWhat villain madam? LADY CAPULETThat same villain, Romeo. JULIET[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. LADY CAPULETThat is, because the traitor murderer lives. JULIETAy, madam, from the reach of these my hands: Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! LADY CAPULETWe will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. JULIETIndeed, I never shall be satisfied With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. Madam, if you could find out but a man To bear a poison, I would temper it; That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors To hear him named, and cannot come to him. To wreak the love I bore my cousin Upon his body that slaughter'd him! LADY CAPULETFind thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. JULIETAnd joy comes well in such a needy time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship? LADY CAPULETWell, 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 expect'st not nor I look'd not for. JULIETMadam, in happy time, what day is that? LADY CAPULETMarry, 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. JULIETNow, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, He 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, It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! LADY CAPULETHere comes your father; tell him so yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULETWhen the sun sets, the air 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 showering? In one little body Thou counterfeit'st 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, Without a sudden calm, will overset Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! Have you deliver'd to her our decree? LADY CAPULETAy, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. I would the fool were married to her grave! CAPULETSoft! 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 blest, Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? JULIETNot 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. CAPULETHow now, how now, chop-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, To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! You tallow-face! LADY CAPULETFie, fie! what, are you mad? JULIETGood father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word. CAPULETHang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, Or never after look me in the face: Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest That God had lent us but this only child; But now I see this one is one too much, And that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hilding! NurseGod in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. CAPULETAnd why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. NurseI speak no treason. CAPULETO, God ye god-den. NurseMay not one speak? CAPULETPeace, you mumbling fool! Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; For here we need it not. LADY CAPULETYou are too hot. CAPULETGod's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, Alone, in company, still my care hath been To have her match'd: and having now provided A gentleman of noble parentage, Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; And then to have a wretched puling fool, A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: Graze 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; And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in the streets, For, 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

JULIETIs there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief? O, 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. LADY CAPULETTalk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

Exit

JULIETO 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, Unless that husband send it me from heaven By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems Upon so soft a subject as myself! What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? Some comfort, nurse. NurseFaith, here it is. Romeo is banish'd; 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. Then, 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 As 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. JULIETSpeakest thou from thy heart? NurseAnd from my soul too; Or else beshrew them both. JULIETAmen! NurseWhat? JULIETWell, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, To make confession and to be absolved. NurseMarry, I will; and this is wisely done.

Exit

JULIETAncient 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, counsellor; Thou 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.

Exit

ACT IVSCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARISFRIAR LAURENCEOn Thursday, sir? the time is very short. PARISMy father Capulet will have it so; And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. FRIAR LAURENCEYou say you do not know the lady's mind: Uneven is the course, I like it not. PARISImmoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears; Which, too much minded by herself alone, May be put from her by society: Now do you know the reason of this haste. FRIAR LAURENCE[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.

Enter JULIET

PARISHappily met, my lady and my wife! JULIETThat may be, sir, when I may be a wife. PARISThat may be must be, love, on Thursday next. JULIETWhat must be shall be. FRIAR LAURENCEThat's a certain text. PARISCome you to make confession to this father? JULIETTo answer that, I should confess to you. PARISDo not deny to him that you love me. JULIETI will confess to you that I love him. PARISSo will ye, I am sure, that you love me. JULIETIf I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. PARISPoor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. JULIETThe tears have got small victory by that; For it was bad enough before their spite. PARISThou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. JULIETThat is no slander, sir, which is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face. PARISThy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. JULIETIt may be so, for it is not mine own. Are you at leisure, holy father, now; Or shall I come to you at evening mass? FRIAR LAURENCEMy leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. My lord, we must entreat the time alone. PARISGod shield I should disturb devotion! Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.

Exit

JULIETO shut the door! and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! FRIAR LAURENCEAh, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my wits: I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, On Thursday next be married to this county. JULIETTell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, Do thou but call my resolution wise, And with this knife I'll help it presently. God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, Shall be the label to another deed, Or my true heart with treacherous revolt Turn to another, this shall slay them both: Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, Give me some present counsel, or, behold, 'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that Which the commission of thy years and art Could to no issue of true honour bring. Be not so long to speak; I long to die, If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. FRIAR LAURENCEHold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate an execution. As that is desperate which we would prevent. If, rather than to marry County Paris, Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, Then is it likely thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That copest with death himself to scape from it: And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. JULIETO, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower; Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; Or bid me go into a new-made grave And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; And I will do it without fear or doubt, To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. FRIAR LAURENCEHold, then; go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: Take thou this vial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off; When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, deprived of supple government, Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: Then, as the manner of our country is, In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, And hither shall he come: and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. And this shall free thee from this present shame; If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, Abate thy valour in the acting it. JULIETGive me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! FRIAR LAURENCEHold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. JULIETLove give me strength! and strength shall help afford. Farewell, dear father!

Exeunt

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two ServingmenCAPULETSo many guests invite as here are writ.

Exit First Servant

Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. Second ServantYou shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers. CAPULETHow canst thou try them so? Second ServantMarry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me. CAPULETGo, be gone.

Exit Second Servant

We shall be much unfurnished for this time. What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? NurseAy, forsooth. CAPULETWell, he may chance to do some good on her: A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. NurseSee where she comes from shrift with merry look.

Enter JULIET

CAPULETHow now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? JULIETWhere I have learn'd me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. CAPULETSend for the county; go tell him of this: I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. JULIETI met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; And gave him what becomed love I might, Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. CAPULETWhy, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: This is as't should be. Let me see the county; Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, Our whole city is much bound to him. JULIETNurse, will you go with me into my closet, To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? LADY CAPULETNo, not till Thursday; there is time enough. CAPULETGo, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.

Exeunt JULIET and Nurse

LADY CAPULETWe shall be short in our provision: 'Tis now near night. CAPULETTush, I will stir about, And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself To County Paris, to prepare him up Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.

Enter JULIET and NurseJULIETAy, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, For I have need of many orisons To move the heavens to smile upon my state, Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULETWhat, are you busy, ho? need you my help? JULIETNo, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: So please you, let me now be left alone, And let the nurse this night sit up with you; For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, In this so sudden business. LADY CAPULETGood night: Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

JULIETFarewell! God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life: I'll call them back again to comfort me: Nurse! What should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must act alone. Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.

Laying down her dagger

What if it be a poison, which the friar Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Because he married me before to Romeo? I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place,-- As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where, for these many hundred years, the bones Of all my buried ancestors are packed: Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- Alack, alack, is it not like that I, So early waking, what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, Environed with all these hideous fears? And madly play with my forefather's joints? And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

She falls upon her bed, within the curtains

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and NurseLADY CAPULETHold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. NurseThey call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter CAPULET

CAPULETCome, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: Spare not for the cost. NurseGo, you cot-quean, go, Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow For this night's watching. CAPULETNo, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. LADY CAPULETAy, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; But I will watch you from such watching now.

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULETA jealous hood, a jealous hood!

Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets

Now, fellow, What's there? First ServantThings for the cook, sir; but I know not what. CAPULETMake haste, make haste.

Exit First Servant

Sirrah, fetch drier logs: Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. Second ServantI have a head, sir, that will find out logs, And never trouble Peter for the matter.

Exit

CAPULETMass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: The county will be here with music straight, For so he said he would: I hear him near.

Music within

Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!

Re-enter Nurse

Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: Make haste, I say.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.

Enter NurseNurseMistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, The County Paris hath set up his rest, That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! Ay, let the county take you in your bed; He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?

Undraws the curtains

What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULETWhat noise is here? NurseO lamentable day! LADY CAPULETWhat is the matter? NurseLook, look! O heavy day! LADY CAPULETO me, O me! My child, my only life, Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! Help, help! Call help.

Enter CAPULET

CAPULETFor shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. NurseShe's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! LADY CAPULETAlack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! CAPULETHa! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; Life and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. NurseO lamentable day! LADY CAPULETO woful time! CAPULETDeath, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians

FRIAR LAURENCECome, is the bride ready to go to church? CAPULETReady to go, but never to return. O son! the night before thy wedding-day Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, Flower as she was, deflowered by him. Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. PARISHave I thought long to see this morning's face, And doth it give me such a sight as this? LADY CAPULETAccursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Most miserable hour that e'er time saw In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, But one thing to rejoice and solace in, And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! NurseO woe! O woful, woful, woful day! Most lamentable day, most woful day, That ever, ever, I did yet behold! O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! Never was seen so black a day as this: O woful day, O woful day! PARISBeguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! O love! O life! not life, but love in death! CAPULETDespised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now To murder, murder our solemnity? O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; And with my child my joys are buried. FRIAR LAURENCEPeace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not In these confusions. Heaven and yourself Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, And all the better is it for the maid: Your part in her you could not keep from death, But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. The most you sought was her promotion; For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? O, in this love, you love your child so ill, That you run mad, seeing that she is well: She's not well married that lives married long; But she's best married that dies married young. Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, In all her best array bear her to church: For though fond nature bids us an lament, Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. CAPULETAll things that we ordained festival, Turn from their office to black funeral; Our instruments to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, And all things change them to the contrary. FRIAR LAURENCESir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare To follow this fair corse unto her grave: The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; Move them no more by crossing their high will.

Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE

First MusicianFaith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. NurseHonest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.

Exit

First MusicianAy, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter PETER

PETERMusicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' First MusicianWhy 'Heart's ease?' PETERO, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, to comfort me. First MusicianNot a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. PETERYou will not, then? First MusicianNo. PETERI will then give it you soundly. First MusicianWhat will you give us? PETERNo money, on my faith, but the gleek; I will give you the minstrel. First MusicianThen I will give you the serving-creature. PETERThen will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, I'll fa you; do you note me? First MusicianAn you re us and fa us, you note us. Second MusicianPray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. PETERThen have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men: 'When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound'-- why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? MusicianMarry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. PETERPretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? Second MusicianI say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. PETERPretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? Third MusicianFaith, I know not what to say. PETERO, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' because musicians have no gold for sounding: 'Then music with her silver sound With speedy help doth lend redress.'

Exit

First MusicianWhat a pestilent knave is this same! Second MusicianHang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.

Exeunt

ACT VSCENE I. Mantua. A street.

Enter ROMEOROMEOIf I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think!-- And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, That I revived, and was an emperor. Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

Enter BALTHASAR, booted

News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? How doth my lady? Is my father well? How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; For nothing can be ill, if she be well. BALTHASARThen she is well, and nothing can be ill: Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, And her immortal part with angels lives. I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, And presently took post to tell it you: O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, Since you did leave it for my office, sir. ROMEOIs it even so? then I defy you, stars! Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. BALTHASARI do beseech you, sir, have patience: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. ROMEOTush, thou art deceived: Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? BALTHASARNo, my good lord. ROMEONo matter: get thee gone, And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.

Exit BALTHASAR

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! I do remember an apothecary,-- And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuff'd, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. Noting this penury, to myself I said 'An if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' O, this same thought did but forerun my need; And this same needy man must sell it me. As I remember, this should be the house. Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. What, ho! apothecary!

Enter Apothecary

ApothecaryWho calls so loud? ROMEOCome hither, man. I see that thou art poor: Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through all the veins That the life-weary taker may fall dead And that the trunk may be discharged of breath As violently as hasty powder fired Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. ApothecarySuch mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them. ROMEOArt thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. ApothecaryMy poverty, but not my will, consents. ROMEOI pay thy poverty, and not thy will. ApothecaryPut this in any liquid thing you will, And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. ROMEOThere is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR JOHNFRIAR JOHNHoly Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR LAURENCEThis same should be the voice of Friar John. Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. FRIAR JOHNGoing to find a bare-foot brother out One of our order, to associate me, Here in this city visiting the sick, And finding him, the searchers of the town, Suspecting that we both were in a house Where the infectious pestilence did reign, Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. FRIAR LAURENCEWho bare my letter, then, to Romeo? FRIAR JOHNI could not send it,--here it is again,-- Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearful were they of infection. FRIAR LAURENCEUnhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, The letter was not nice but full of charge Of dear import, and the neglecting it May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight Unto my cell. FRIAR JOHNBrother, I'll go and bring it thee.

Exit

FRIAR LAURENCENow must I to the monument alone; Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: She will beshrew me much that Romeo Hath had no notice of these accidents; But I will write again to Mantua, And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb!

Exit

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torchPARISGive me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, As signal that thou hear'st something approach. Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. PAGE[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.

Retires

PARISSweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: The obsequies that I for thee will keep Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.

The Page whistles

The boy gives warning something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.

Retires

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c

ROMEOGive me that mattock and the wrenching iron. Hold, take this letter; early in the morning See thou deliver it to my lord and father. Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, And do not interrupt me in my course. Why I descend into this bed of death, Is partly to behold my lady's face; But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger A precious ring, a ring that I must use In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry In what I further shall intend to do, By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: The time and my intents are savage-wild, More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. BALTHASARI will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. ROMEOSo shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. BALTHASAR[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

Retires

ROMEOThou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!

Opens the tomb

PARISThis is that banish'd haughty Montague, That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, It is supposed, the fair creature died; And here is come to do some villanous shame To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.

Comes forward

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! Can vengeance be pursued further than death? Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. ROMEOI must indeed; and therefore came I hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, Put not another sin upon my head, By urging me to fury: O, be gone! By heaven, I love thee better than myself; For I come hither arm'd against myself: Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, A madman's mercy bade thee run away. PARISI do defy thy conjurations, And apprehend thee for a felon here. ROMEOWilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!

They fight

PAGEO Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.

Exit

PARISO, I am slain!

Falls

If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

Dies

ROMEOIn faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as we rode? I think He told me Paris should have married Juliet: Said he not so? or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

Laying PARIS in the tomb

How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry! which their keepers call A lightning before death: O, how may I Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? O, what more favour can I do to thee, Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; And never from this palace of dim night Depart again: here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death! Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! Here's to my love!

Drinks

O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.

Dies

Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade

FRIAR LAURENCESaint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? BALTHASARHere's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. FRIAR LAURENCEBliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, It burneth in the Capel's monument. BALTHASARIt doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, One that you love. FRIAR LAURENCEWho is it? BALTHASARRomeo. FRIAR LAURENCEHow long hath he been there? BALTHASARFull half an hour. FRIAR LAURENCEGo with me to the vault. BALTHASARI dare not, sir My master knows not but I am gone hence; And fearfully did menace me with death, If I did stay to look on his intents. FRIAR LAURENCEStay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. BALTHASARAs I did sleep under this yew-tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him. FRIAR LAURENCERomeo!

Advances

Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre? What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

Enters the tomb

Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance! The lady stirs.

JULIET wakes

JULIETO comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Noise within

FRIAR LAURENCEI hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; Come, go, good Juliet,

Noise again

I dare no longer stay. JULIETGo, get thee hence, for I will not away.

Exit FRIAR LAURENCE

What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make die with a restorative.

Kisses him

Thy lips are warm. First Watchman[Within] Lead, boy: which way? JULIETYea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!

Snatching ROMEO's dagger

This is thy sheath;

Stabs herself

there rust, and let me die.

Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies

Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS

PAGEThis is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. First WatchmanThe ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, Who here hath lain these two days buried. Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: Raise up the Montagues: some others search: We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; But the true ground of all these piteous woes We cannot without circumstance descry.

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR

Second WatchmanHere's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. First WatchmanHold him in safety, till the prince come hither.

Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE

Third WatchmanHere is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: We took this mattock and this spade from him, As he was coming from this churchyard side. First WatchmanA great suspicion: stay the friar too.

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants

PRINCEWhat misadventure is so early up, That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others

CAPULETWhat should it be, that they so shriek abroad? LADY CAPULETThe people in the street cry Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, With open outcry toward our monument. PRINCEWhat fear is this which startles in our ears? First WatchmanSovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new kill'd. PRINCESearch, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. First WatchmanHere is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; With instruments upon them, fit to open These dead men's tombs. CAPULETO heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house Is empty on the back of Montague,-- And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! LADY CAPULETO me! this sight of death is as a bell, That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others

PRINCECome, Montague; for thou art early up, To see thy son and heir more early down. MONTAGUEAlas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: What further woe conspires against mine age? PRINCELook, and thou shalt see. MONTAGUEO thou untaught! what manners is in this? To press before thy father to a grave? PRINCESeal up the mouth of outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent; And then will I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the parties of suspicion. FRIAR LAURENCEI am the greatest, able to do least, Yet most suspected, as the time and place Doth make against me of this direful murder; And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself excused. PRINCEThen say at once what thou dost know in this. FRIAR LAURENCEI will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. You, to remove that siege of grief from her, Betroth'd and would have married her perforce To County Paris: then comes she to me, And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean To rid her from this second marriage, Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, A sleeping potion; which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, That he should hither come as this dire night, To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, Being the time the potion's force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight Return'd my letter back. Then all alone At the prefixed hour of her waking, Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: But when I came, some minute ere the time Of her awaking, here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, And bear this work of heaven with patience: But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; And she, too desperate, would not go with me, But, as it seems, did violence on herself. All this I know; and to the marriage Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this Miscarried by my fault, let my old life Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, Unto the rigour of severest law. PRINCEWe still have known thee for a holy man. Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? BALTHASARI brought my master news of Juliet's death; And then in post he came from Mantua To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he early bid me give his father, And threatened me with death, going in the vault, I departed not and left him there. PRINCEGive me the letter; I will look on it. Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? Sirrah, what made your master in this place? PAGEHe came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; And by and by my master drew on him; And then I ran away to call the watch. PRINCEThis letter doth make good the friar's words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death: And here he writes that he did buy a poison Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. And I for winking at your discords too Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. CAPULETO brother Montague, give me thy hand: This is my daughter's jointure, for no more Can I demand. MONTAGUEBut I can give thee more: For I will raise her statue in pure gold; That while Verona by that name is known, There shall no figure at such rate be

set As that of true and faithful Juliet. CAPULETAs rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; Poor sacrifices of our enmity! PRINCEA glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Exeunt

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hakuogakuen · 4 years

Text

Hakuouki SSL: Prologue

EDITED 7/31/20

Hello! Here is the translation for the SSL prologue. Primary translation is by yuugs, with proof reading done by shizuumi, kuririn, and dei-hime. Translation begins below the cut!

― May ―

Chizuru Yukimura: "The door and windows are locked..."

~ding dong~

Chizuru Yukimura: "Heisuke-kun, are you awake? It's almost time for school..."

"..."

"......”

FInally, the door opened.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Uh! Um... It's Yukimura. Hello? Heisuke-kun―"

Heisuke Toudou: "Sorry, Chizuru! Gimme five more minutes!!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh... Heisuke-kun!? Geez..."

‘Five more minutes, huh...? There's still some time left, so I guess it should be fine...’

Chizuru Yukimura: "... It's already been five minutes...Is he still not ready? ...What now? Should I ring the intercom one more time...?"

Heisuke Toudou: "Morning! Also, sorry!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh, Heisuke-kun! Morning!"

This is Heisuke Toudou-kun, my next-door neighbor. We attended the same high school, and walked there together when we can.

Despite being a junior, a grade above me, he hated me calling him ‘senpai,’ since we were childhood friends.

I'd counted on him since we were little, but he sometimes overslept or played video games all night, which could be a problem.

Heisuke Toudou: "We good for time? How bad's it look?

Chizuru Yukimura: "I think we might not make it...!"

Heisuke Toudou: "Seriously...? Okay, let's book it!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yeah!"

It was shaping up to be a bit of a busy morning, but we had to hurry―!!

Heisuke Toudou: "Dammit, if my alarm just rang properly, we'd have definitely made it on time!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Heisuke-kun, you said that last time as well."

Heisuke Toudou: "M-My alarm's busted! I'll buy a new one next time!!"

???: "Sure is noisy this morning, huh?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Ah..."

Souji Okita: "Morning, you two."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Good morning, Okita-senpai!"

This is Souji Okita-senpai, a junior. He was in the same class as Heisuke-kun, and we were pretty good friends. He could be a bit mischievous, and like to take pictures with his smartphone. Occasionally, he'd email me and I wouldn't know how to respond.That did bother me a bit.

Heisuke Toudou: "If Souji's here… then we're seriously late!"

Souji Okita: "Maybe... But it's not that bad. Not like the school's going anywhere anytime soon."

Heisuke Toudou: "It’s absolutely that bad! The gatekeeper of hell's waiting for us!"

Souji Okita: "Haha, you're exaggerating. No need to be so scared."

Chizuru Yukimura: "L-Let's hurry anyway! Okita-senpai, you should try and run!"

Souji Okita: "...Looks like I'll have to play along."

After that, we began running for our lives. Of course, tardiness was against the rules, but even with that, there was another reason we didn’t want to be lateー

Heisuke Toudou: "All right, and he's saaaaaaafe!!"

???: "Unfortunately, he's out."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh..."

Hajime Saitou: "Sorry, but as a part of the disciplinary committee, I can't make any exceptions. Not even for five seconds."

Kaoru Nagumo: "What he said. A shame, really. You ran so desperately just to make an own goal."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Kaoru...and Saitou-senpai...!"

...Yes, the reason we ran so frantically is because of the disciplinary committee.

This is Hajime Saitou-senpai , a junior. A serious and deeply earnest person, he was a feared member of the disciplinary committee. Heisuke-kun often called him 'inflexible', but he's tougher on himself than anyone else. I think he's a good person. Although he might not be the best with words, he was a good senior in my eyes.

This is Nagumo Kaoru, a sophomore, like me. He's actually my twin brother. Why our last names differed was a long story, but basically, we grew up separately when we were young. Initially, I was happy that we were going to the same school. But... Kaoru wasn’t the politest person ever. He would even disrespect our seniors without a second thought, and he always made me nervous…

Heisuke Toudou: "It was only five seconds! The gate isn't closed yet ―just let it slide!"

Kaoru Nagumo: "No. How would letting you go benefit us?"

Heisuke Toudou: "Maybe it wouldn't, but it's not like it'd hurt you either!"

Hajime Saitou: "Heisuke, this isn't open for discussion. The rules exist for a reason."

Souji Okita: "You heard him, Heisuke. Too bad."

Heisuke Toudou: "Souji, whose side are you on?!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "U-Um... Heisuke-kun. It's a fact we were late. We can't do much about that."

Heisuke Toudou: "But...!"

???: "Pipe down! What are you up to there!?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh...!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "Saitou, Nagumo! It's time. Close the gate."

Hajime Saitou: "Yes, sir."

Kaoru Nagumo: "Hmph, that's a shame."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Heisuke, Souji, Yukimura! You three hurry up and head inside....Don't be any later than you already are."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Y-Yes, sir!"

This is Toshizou Hijikata. He was Heisuke's and Okita's homeroom teacher, and also taught classical literature. He was very harsh, but passionate about education. As well being the vice principal, it was said that he was a childhood friend of the principal, Kondou-sensei. He always looked tense. He had this prickly aura about him that kept people away.

Toshizou Hijikata: "I swear... You never learn. You're late every single day..."

(A flash lit up his face and a camera shutter noise sounded.)

Toshizou Hijikata: "W-What was that?"

Souji Okita: "Haha. The wrinkles in your face are even deeper than yesterday's."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Souji! You punk!!"

Souji Okita: "Would you like to compare yesterday's pic with today's? Here, take a look."

Toshizou Hijikata: "I don't need to! And don't take photos of people without their permission!"

...Seeing as everyone else was afraid of the vice principal, Okita might have be the only one who could banter with him like that... With that thought, we headed past the school gates.

――The private school, Hakuou Academy.

This school was an all-boys school up until this year. Thanks to the principal Isami Kondou-sensei and his efforts, the school became co-ed recently.

Somehow, I became the first female student at Hakuou Academy...

...And the only female student.

Of course, I was a little nervous when I learned that there were no other girls... But the people here were really nice, and I had always been good at getting along with others, so I was doing pretty well.

Chizuru Yukimura:"...Oh no! I have to get to class soon...!"

"Thank god, I made it in time..."

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: "Hm? It's not like you to show up at the last minute, Yukimura."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh, Ibuki-kun. Morning. This morning's been a bit much..."

This is Ryuunosuke Ibuki-kun, my classmate. He could be a bit blunt at times, but he was a kind person. He always had milk and red bean buns for lunch. When I asked him if he was eating enough, he would say that it couldn’t be helped, since he had no money… He complained about someone called Serizawa-san being rough and tyrannical to him. I wondered what his relation was to Ibuki-kun, exactly.

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: "The teacher's about to arrive. We ought to take our seats now."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yeah, thanks, Ibuki-kun."

???: "Take your seats, you lot. Homeroom's about to start."

Chizuru Yukimura: "!"

While I hurried to sit down, Harada-sensei smiled at me from the front of the room.

Sanosuke Harada: "What's wrong, Yukimura? It's rare for you to be late."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Y-Yes... I'm sorry..."

This is Sanosuke Harada-sensei. He was my homeroom teacher, as well as the P.E. teacher. Friendly and open-hearted, all the students looked up to him as if he were their big brother. He used to go to the same Kendo dojo as Heisuke-kun and Nagakura-sensei, the math teacher. Even now, they all still seemed to be close.

Sanosuke Harada: "Well, I can imagine the reason why. You know, you can just ditch Heisuke if you think you'll be late."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um, that's… I'll see what I can do about that..."

Sanosuke Harada: "Yeah, please do. Well, let's wrap this up quickly. Today's announcements are--"

I didn’t want to just leave Heisuke-kun behind... ‘I’ll try to figure out a way so I can pick him up earlier…’

Classmate A: "Phew, it's finally time for lunch."

Classmate B: "Yeah, I'm starving. Hey, Ibuki, you eating at the cafeteria?"

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: "If you treat me, I’ll go."

Classmate B: "No way!"

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: "Then don't ask. You know full well I'm low on money."

Classmate A: "U-Um, Yukimura-san, what about you? We can go together if that's cool―"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Me? Well...."

While it made me happy when my classmates invited me to have lunch with them…

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm sorry… I already have plans. Maybe another time?"

Classmate A: "I-I see..."

I apologized once again and then headed to the cafeteria. At lunchtime, the cafeteria got so crowded, it was like a battlefield. It seems like things are ramping up with everyone on an empty stomach…

Heisuke Toudou: "Oh, hey, Chizuru! Over here, over here!"

Heisuke and Okita are waving at me.

‘I can't keep them waiting, I have to hurry...!’

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hm.... Should I get set meal A?”

I bought a ticket for set meal 'A' from the vending machine, and then joined the line.

Genzaburou Inoue: "Oh, Yukimura-kun. You came to the cafeteria today."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Inoue-san, hello!"

This is Genzaburou Inoue-san. He was in charge of cooking the meals for the cafeteria, and his food was always delicious. He was very kind and warm, and students affectionately called him the “Mother of Hakuou Academy”. In fact, rumor has it that he was quite a big-wig as well. But was it true, I wondered.

Genzaburou Inoue: "I’ll keep your portion on the smaller side. The boys’ portion could be a bit too much for you."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Thank you so much!"

His effortless consideration for others was one of his best traits, to me. I would have liked to take some cooking lessons from him one of these days, too...

Souji Okita: "You kept us waiting. Oh. You don't have much on your plate, as usual."

Chizuru Yukimura: "You think so?"

Heisuke Toudou: "Chizuru's a girl, so of course she'll have less, right? You don’t eat that much either, Souji."

Souji Okita: "And you eat a lot. For your size."

Heisuke Toudou: "That wasn't necessary!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hehe."

After a fun lunch, I parted ways with Heisuke-kun and Okita-senpai, and headed back for the classroom.

Shinpachi Nagakura: "Yo, Chizuru-chan!” Working hard today?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hello, Nagakura-sensei!"

This is Shinpachi Nagakura-sensei. He was a math teacher and a close friend of Harada-sensei's. Much to his dismay, he was often mistaken for a P.E. teacher, which was no surprise, since he always wore a jersey. He was hopeless with money management and often got in trouble with Hijikata-sensei because of that. But otherwise, he was a great teacher.

Shinpachi Nagakura: "Are you done with lunch already? If you wouldn't mind, I've a small favor to ask of you.”

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh, yes! That's fine. What is it?"

Shinpachi Nagakura: "Sorry for the trouble. I just wanted you to deliver this to Sannan-san for me."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Sannan-sensei... So the infirmary?"

Shinpachi Nagakura: "Yeah. I've, uh...got some other things to take care of. Yeah."

Chizuru Yukimura: "I understand. I'll head there now!"

Shinpachi Nagakura: "Great. Thanks for the help!"

I headed off to the infirmary with the manila folder Nagakura-sensei gave me.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Excuse me."

Keisuke Sannan: "Oh...Yukimura-kun. Are you unwell?"

This is Sannan Keisuke-sensei, the school nurse. He was always calm, kind, and willing to lend a hand. Knowing that, it was strange how most students tried to avoid ever going to the infirmary...

Chizuru Yukimura: "No, I'm fine. Nagakura-sensei told me to hand this to you."

Keisuke Sannan: "Nagakura-sensei...?"

Keisuke Sannan: "Ahh...I see now. He didn't want to deliver it himself, so he used you instead."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh?"

Keisuke Sannan: "Heh... He actually missed the deadline for the submission of his documents, you see? I suppose he didn't want me getting angry with him. I'll have to have a word with him later… To think he sent you on a fool's errand when he could've done it himself."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh, no, it's really no trouble."

Susumu Yamazaki: "Excuse me. ...Oh."

Keisuke Sannan: "Oh? I see that I've got many visitors today. You're here too, Yamazaki-kun."

This is Yamazaki Susumu-senpai, a junior. He was in the same class as Saitou-senpai, and his homeroom teacher was Nagakura-sensei. As part of the Health Committee, he frequented the infirmary to help Sannan-sensei out with his work. Yamazaki-senpai was a very strait-laced person, who'd never slack off on any of his committee work.

Susumu Yamazaki: "Pardon me! I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation..."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh, no. It's alright! I've already finished up here."

Keisuke Sannan: "How cold of you. Are you implying that you've no business talking to me now that you've wrapped up here?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh, wait― What!? N-No! That's not what I meant..."

Susumu Yamazaki: "...Sannan-sensei."

Keisuke Sannan: "I know, I know, Yamazaki-kun. I was only teasing."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Really...?"

Keisuke Sannan: "Heh. It was only a joke. Feel free to come by anytime, now. Of course you should visit when you're feeling ill, but do stop by if you have other concerns as well. I have some good medicine."

Susumu Yamazaki: "Sannan-sensei? But that's...!"

Keisuke Sannan: "Yamazaki-kun. Is there something you'd like to say...?"

Susumu Yamazaki: "...Nothing."

Chizuru Yukimura: "???"

The bell for afternoon classes rang just after I left the infirmary.

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm already so sleepy..."

With my full stomach and the warm weather, I began to feel a bit drowsy. Thinking that, I returned to my classroom.

Then, as usual, I finished my afternoon classes...

It was time for homeroom again.

Sanosuke Harada: "...and that's all for today. Those in clubs ― give it all you’ve got. Those going home ― take care not to wander about too much."

Whole class: "Yeeessir."

Sanosuke Harada: "...Oh, right, Yukimura."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yes?"

Sanosuke Harada: "I also told Heisuke. Don't be late tomorrow."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Y-Yes, sir...!"

Sanosuke Harada: "Hahaha, don't give me that face. I'm not really angry with you. Well then, see you tomorrow."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Right! Have a nice day."

I smiled and left the classroom.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hm? What's going on.... What's all this commotion about?"

???: "Hey, hey, move it, bastards!"

???: "I'm so sorry, but if you could make way,please."

Chizuru Yukimura: "...That voice is..."

Chikage Kazama: "Hmph. For these nobodies to block my path... unforgivable. Those who dare defy yours truly, the eminent student council president, Chikage Kazama, must prepare to face the consequences."

Kyuuju Amagiri: "...Please understand this is to avoid further trouble, from what you can see here."

Kyou Shiranui: "It’d be less dull if some guys here had the guts to throw down with him though."

Chizuru Yukimura: "......!"

When I saw those three cut through the surging crowd, I thought to myself, 'Oh, no.' I really didn’t want to get caught, if I could avoid it. But as that crossed my mind...

Chikage Kazama: "Oh... You came to meet me yourself. What a praiseworthy sentiment, my betrothed."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Ack! It was a coincidence...!"

Kyuuju Amagiri: "Greetings, Yukimura-kun. ...You have my sympathies."

Chikage Kazama: "Amagiri. What do you mean by that?"

Kyou Shiranui: "The man said what he said. Ain't that right, Chizuru?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um......"

I was at a loss. I could only stand there in silence.

This is Chikage Kazama-senpai. He was a senior, and the student council president of Hakuou Academy. He was always accompanied by his attendants, Kyuuju Amagiri-senpai and Kyou Shiranui-senpai, and acted as if the whole world belongs to him.

And why, really, why did he want me to be his bride? He decided that completely on his own...

This is Kyuuju Amagiri-senpai, another senior who acted like Kazama-senpai's watchman of sorts. ...He didn’t look anything like a high school student. There’s really no other way to put it. But I'd decided not to worry about that. He was probably the only person able to put up with Kazama-senpai's recklessness with any amount of success.

And lastly, this is Kyou Shiranui-senpai. He was also a senior, like Amagiri-senpai, and always with Kazama-senpai. However, unlike Amagiri, he didn’t seem to really respect Kazama. He could be violent sometimes and a bit scary, but occasionally he could be quite kind too, according to his whim.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um... Kazama-senpai. I've repeatedly asked you to not call me your wife, so please stop..."

Chikage Kazama: "Why?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "W-Why....? Because it's not true!!"

Chikage Kazama: "...I can't hear you. Amagiri, what is the girl saying?"

Kyuuju Amagiri: "......She said that she is currently undeserving of the honour of marrying you."

Chizuru Yukimura: "What?!"

Chikage Kazama: "Is that so. Such a commendable attitude; such humility is a virtue."

Chizuru Yukimura:: “But, th-that's not...!"

Kyou Shiranui: "Give it up. He doesn’t wanna hear it."

Chizuru Yukimura: "No way!"

Chikage Kazama: "Hm... Fine. I'll overlook this for today. But know this, Chizuru. Once I set my eyes on my prey, I never let it escape. I suggest you ready yourself by coming to a decision.”

Chizuru Yukimura: "Kazama-senpai! Wait...!”

Without listening to a word I said, he turned and left, along with Amagiri-senpai and Shiranui-senpai.

...As they were leaving, Amagiri-senpai bowed deeply to me.

Chizuru Yukimura: “I would rather that he deny it along with me, though...”

"Phew..."

Somehow, after that, a wave of exhaustion came over me, and I let out a sigh. At that moment…

Isami Kondou: "Hm? If it isn't Yukimura-kun. Are you heading home now?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Kondou-sensei!"

This is Isami Kondou, the founder of Hakuouki Academy. He was always full of enthusiasm. Just watching him and his energy inspired me to do my best, too. His topknot hairstyle surprised me at first. But it seemed that he sports one as his own policy of sorts.

Isami Kondou: "Glad to see you're doing well. Have you had any issues lately?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Thank you very much. Everyone's very kind and polite, so I'm doing well!"

Isami Kondou: "I see, I see, that's great! To think that you're the only girl among a sorry lot of guys."

Isami Kondou: "Even now, I think the admission interview was a bit crazy. I'm sorry about that."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Ahaha..."

As I remembered the Hakuou Academy entrance exam, a wry smile came to my face.

That was back in the winter of this year. I was at a loss for which school I should attend.

My friend, Osen-chan, suggested Shimabara Girls' High, which she was attending... It was an upper-class all-girls school, and I was worried about the formalities and expensive tuition fees.

Many other schools also interested me, and I just couldn't make up my mind.

Then, as I was trying to decide…

Heisuke Toudou: "Hey, Chizuru! Come to my school! Starting next year, they'll accept girls as well!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Oh... Really?"

Heisuke Toudou: "Really! Go to the same school as me!"

At Heisuke-kun's suggestion, I began researching Hakuou Academy.

The tuition was pretty cheap, but more importantly, their educational ideals resonated deeply with me.

And so, I decided to take the entrance exam for Hakuou Academy.

It was difficult, but thanks to the work I put into revising, I managed to pass somehow. What I was most nervous about was actually the interview afterwards. What would they ask me? As my heart began to pound thinking that, the person I faced in the interview was…

Toshizou Hijikata: "...Chizuru Yukimura. Our academy will begin to admit girls for the first time next year. Depending on the situation, the number of girls may be considerably low. Could you focus on your studies in such an environment?"

Chizuru Yukimura: “...I may have fewer female friends, which might be lonely. But studying is bound to be the main priority for school, so I'll be fine."

Toshizou Hijikata: "...Why did you choose our school?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Though this is embarrassing to admit… For one, the tuition is cheap. I don't want to burden my father,” I said. “Beyond that, a childhood friend of mine attends this school, and he told me this was a good place... And after looking into it, it seemed to me that this academy creates an environment that puts their students first... So now, I want to study here. That's what I truly think."

Toshizou Hijikata "...I see."

For some reason, Hijikata-sensei had kept silent for a while after that.

With his most serious expression yet, he had finally opened his mouth again, and asked me this:

Toshizou Hijikata: "...Last question. Can you recite our school's educational philosophy?"

Of course, I had responded immediately.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yes! It's 'Sincerity'!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "......"

After that, I made it. I was able to pass the admissions process.

At the time, I would never have guessed I'd be the only girl in the school. That had me fairly worried at first.

Isami Kondou: "I can tell you now that Toshi was against accepting female students until the very last minute.” He continued, "Ah... How do I put it? Um, we're a school with a short history, even if we have noble ideals and whatnot... So, when the proposal to accept girls was raised, Toshi insisted it'd distract the current students and disrupt their discipline."

Chizuru Yukimura: "S-So that's what happened..."

Isami Kondou: "The compromise was that Toshi would interview candidates himself. And here you are ― the only girl who passed! But I am really sorry. You must have felt out of place. I wouldn't blame you for feeling nervous..."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Kondou-sensei... It's true that I did at first, but I'm alright now. And besides... Now that I'm enrolled here, I think it was one of the best decisions I've ever made!"

Isami Kondou: "R-Really...! Thank you!! There may be hard times along with the good ones… But I want you to be proud that you're a student Toshi himself accepted, and enjoy your time here. As the principal of this school, I'll be watching over you!"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Thank you so much!"

Mr. Kondou waved me off with a smile and, after waving back at him, I left the school.

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm home...! ...Haah... It feels kind of lonely when nobody's home..."

My father, a doctor, was on a business trip to some remote island, and wouldn’t be coming home for a while.

Our family clinic was also closed. While I was used to it by then, I think I took it for granted that someone would welcome me home before.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hm?"

‘I should probably reply as soon as I can.’

-----

Sub: About emails

Since we're in the same class and we're pretty much friends, I'll tell you something.

At the entrance ceremony, the school admins announced that they would contact us via email. Have you registered an address?

You're going to start receiving emails, but apparently you can only reply to them right on the spot when you receive them.

You'll be able to check your email history later, but you can't reply.

If you want to reply to a message, reply on the spot.

Well, even if the school contacts you, I'm sure it'll just be chatter from teachers and students anyway.

That's all I wanted to tell you.

-----

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh?"

"It's Ibuki-kun again."

-----

Sub: Ryuunosuke Shop Grand Opening

My bad, I forgot I needed to tell you one more thing.

As you spend time at Hakuo Academy, you'll accumulate points from doing things like replying to emails or playing mini-games.

Now that my shop has opened, you can exchange those points for various goods at the shop.

There is a limit to the number of points you can have, so use them quickly.

There are also certain things that cannot be obtained until a certain time has passed, so come and look often.

I mean.

The operation of this shop is a matter of life or death for me.

I'm begging you!

Please exchange points!

-----

"Alright, I guess I'll take a look next time."

After I checked the email from Ibuki-kun, I put my phone on my desk and looked out the window.

Chizuru Yukimura: "...I have my friends and teachers. It'll be okay."

‘Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. I'm sure I won't have time to feel lonely then.’

A place dear to my heart, where I could enjoy my everyday life.

My days at Private Hakuo Academy had only just begun――

#Hakuouki #Hakuoki #Hakuouki SSL #otome #fan translation #common route #prologue #updated

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Attack on Titan Season 4 Episode 9 Review: Brave Volunteers

https://ift.tt/2MMruLT

This Attack on Titan review contains spoilers.

Attack on Titan Season 4 Episode 9

“Welcome to Paradis Island…”

Attack on Titan’s final season has expertly played with the viewers’ expectations, but “Brave Volunteers” feels like the most atypical episode of what’s been an extremely unpredictable season.

On one level, an episode that’s largely set in the past and is almost entirely designed as an expository device shouldn’t be a very satisfying installment of Attack on Titan. The anime has done episodes like this before, but it actually feels appropriate for it to pump its breaks a little and take stock of everything that’s happened so far now that the season has passed the halfway point.

This may technically be one of the “least best” episodes of this season, but it still works a lot better than something like this should. “Brave Volunteers” shows confidence build up in multiple characters as they become optimistic about the future, but in reality this episode is a study about just how much these characters don’t know, which is a stark realization that goes double for the audience.

The final moments of Attack on Titan’s previous installment set up so many jarring twists and altered relationship dynamics. The audience is confused, much like Falco and Gabi are when they see Zeke working alongside the Eldians. It’s a major indication that the entire first half of this season has been a much more complicated plan than what’s initially been indicated and “Brave Volunteers” finally provides some helpful answers before the series takes another major turn towards its apocalyptic endgame.

Some people may lament how much of “Brave Volunteers” is spent looking back at the past. However, this choice is excusable because it narratively works much better than if this material played out in chronological order at the start of the season and the audience were clued in to Eren’s plan. The season is stronger by essentially making the audience an unofficial Marleyan. “Brave Volunteers” is full of answers, but it still feels like there’s a lot to this plan that’s being kept in the dark to everyone.

The crux of “Brave Volunteers” comes down to Eldia’s invasion of Paradis Island and the unlikely arrangement that they enter with Zeke and a determined soldier named Yelena. A tense parley takes place between these factions and the Eldian and Marleyans reluctantly decide to pool their resources together to take on the larger threat of Paradis and the Founding Titan. There’s a lot to digest as Attack on Titan breezes through its plan and there are some enlightening glimpses into strategy, like how Eren wants Armin to tap into Bertholdt’s memories as a way to learn of their enemy’s plan and gain the advantage over them. Everyone is still planning multiple moves ahead in this metaphorical match of monster chess.

Attack on Titan: “No One is Safe” in Final Season, Stars Say

By Daniel Kurland

The secret alliances between Zeke, Levi, Eren, and Yelena are major turning points, but the biggest twist in “Brave Volunteers” is reserved for its ending. It turns out that Armin’s captive audience through this engrossing story is none other than Annie Leonhart, which is a major revelation that throws more significant players into the final chapter of this war.

The flashback nature of “Brave Volunteers” thankfully gives the audience a little more time with Sasha. It’s very fulfilling to see her in her element again, but it also makes every moment with Sasha incredibly bittersweet considering where things end. Her funeral is a rough scene, but it’s also an important moment for everyone to catch their breath after moving non-stop for so many episodes and not allowing themselves the opportunity to grieve. The pain of Niccolo, a completely new character, is proof of how much Sasha made a difference to those around her. At least she got to taste lobster before she went out.

A lot of this episode is constructed around characters slowly letting down their guards to strangers, whether it’s intentional or otherwise. The twisted “welcome wagon” skit that Hange engages in with the soldiers on Paradis Island is treated like an affable icebreaker as these characters broach new territory. However, from the point of view of these strangers it’s a gesture that paralyzes them in fear; not unlike the way a soldier may tease a prisoner of war or how a predator plays with their food before consumption.

It’s another jarring reminder that this is a milestone event that’s depicted for the Eldian Warriors, but it’s also a momentous occasion for the people on the other side of this attack, yet for completely different and more harrowing reasons. Every episode from this season contains playful actions that are intentionally meant to be double-sided depending on from which side of this war they’re being considered.

The most dangerous example of this is present with Yelena, a ruthless and obsessed figure that’s determined for Eren to recognize his greatness. In the present it seems very likely that Eren has developed a God complex where he believes that everything that he does is justified and the necessary means to an end. Those kinds of feelings don’t just develop on their own and it wouldn’t be surprising if Yelena is the one that continually bolsters up Eren’s ego to the point that he’s beyond viewing himself as anything other than perfect. It’s a dangerous echo chamber of delusion for Eren. There’s already a very palpable sense of tension that accompanies everything that Yelena does.

Yelena proves that she’s already willing to kill for Eren, but it’s enlightening to hear her explain her reverence towards seeing Zeke’s Beast Titan for the first time. She reveres the monster as a God. Yelena displays a fascinating perspective towards Titans that hasn’t been examined in the past, but makes so much sense in regards to how lost and disillusioned individuals will sometimes praise weapons of destruction.

Yelena’s devotion to Eren also allows “Brave Volunteers” to dig deeper into where Eren’s head is currently at and how much of his humanity he’s lost in the three years building up to the attack on Marley. They’re brief moments, but Eren appears to be getting numb towards death as he focuses more on the good that he’ll cause once all of this is over. He’s consumed over how the world views him and his kind as devils and he’s determined to either prove them right, or completely wipe them out so that there’s no one left to harbor these disparaging thoughts.

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These concerns over Eren grow greater while he innocently trains alongside Armin and Mikasa. It’s comforting to see these three together, but there’s an unspoken animosity that’s formed. Even Armin laments how he feels like he has no idea who Eren is anymore. It’s seriously chilling when Eren calmly talks about his Rumbling plan while he fires off rounds at the range. He’s completely hollow in the moment and Armin and Mikasa can sense it.

Some powerful words that come out of Eren in this episode is how, “We can’t win if we don’t fight.” This philosophy may be true on some level, but what’s ultimately important is who is fighting whom, and over what. Eren’s bleak message radically contradicts what Willy Tybur preached during his final moments at the Liberio Festival: the only way that this war can be won and that peace can be achieved is if everyone works together. Eren has used his power to work together and build an army that intimidates the world into submission. He manages to take Tybur’s speech and weaponize it in a way that only further proves his point.

Attack on Titan’s future is definitely going to feature more individuals working together, but it seems like it will be under duress and through Eren’s increasingly tyrannical rule rather than a mutual appreciation to fix the world. Oddly, it’s Onyankopon’s words that “Everybody exists because somebody wanted us to exist” that are unintentionally profound and speak to how everyone should be looking for ways to come together to do more good, not evil.

“Brave Volunteers” is a dense and necessary episode that leaves Attack on Titan in an exciting position as serious dissent begins to crop up around Eren. However, now everyone is too deep into this plan to abandon ship. It leaves the Eldians in rewarding territory and even though they now have more power than ever before there are much more fundamental problems that begin to arise.

Eren is increasingly comfortable to embrace the devil role that the world has been all too eager to label them with rather than fight the narrative and prove that the only monsters here are the antiquated rules that the public has clung to in fear. The opening credits have been telling the audience since the very first episode of this season: You are the real enemy.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

This empty threat suddenly feels crushingly authentic for the first time.

The post Attack on Titan Season 4 Episode 9 Review: Brave Volunteers appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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sfw-haikyuu-nsfw · 7 years

Text

Tagged

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better

Got tagged by @s0wrongitssteph! Thanks love!

Age: 23

Birthplace: California, US

Current time: 2:26 PM

Easiest person to talk to: My mom for sure and my best friend Marissa.

Drink you last had: a large cup of hot coffee.

Grossest memory: Um. Puking on the bathroom floor of the hotel I was sharing with seven other people after going too hard. It was not a good night.

Horror yes or horror no: Yes! I enjoy going to those mazes or haunted houses where the actors scare you. I mean, I don’t do very well, I definitely need someone to pull or push me through otherwise I’m screaming on the floor, but I always walk away smiling, lol.

In love?: I was going to pass on this but then I thought that this is a brilliant moment to quote Shakespeare!

Benvolio: In love?

Romeo: Out--

Benvolio: Of love?

Romeo: Out of [his] favor where I am in love.

Benvolio: Alas that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

Romeo: [continues to be a whiney bitch]

Jealous of people?: I can be. It primarily happens when I’m in a relationship and someone is obviously making a move on my partner. But I don’t say anything? I just get, like, hella clingy.

Ke$ha: Never in my free time, but always at a party.

Love at first sight or should I walk by again?: I won’t tell you I loved the first sight just so I can see you walk by again.

Middle Name: Elaine

Number of siblings: One; my Brother with Swag (the nerd named himself this in my phone).

One wish: I have no freaking idea. Like, honestly, I could never just make one wish, because there are so many things that are important to me I don’t think I could put one above the other. I mean, I want to be successful, but that stretches across my career, relationships, and family. So, if there’s a star that can cover all that, then go for it.

Person you last called: My grandpa. Literally answered the phone and was like “I’m not talking to you cause you never call me!” “Um, I’m calling you now, grandpa.” “Hm... so how are you, girl?”

Question you are always asked: “Do you plan basketball? No? What about volleyball?” Then it would follow up with a comment along the lines of ‘wasted height’ or ‘but you would’ve been so good’ - just no.

Reasons to smile: Friends, family, health, life, the unforetold future, the Haikyuu!! boys, my puppies. These all make me smile, lol.

Song you last sang: You - Petit Biscuit

Time you woke up: I was up at 7 something this morning but I laid in bed until about 10. Sometimes I have no will to leave my blankets.

Underwear color: A forest green

Vacation Destination: The world. I want to go anywhere and everywhere.

Worst Habit: Constantly putting things off until the last possible minute and then stressing way too much about them.

X-Rays: Okay, the last one I got was on my back when I went to the chiropractor and it’s all hella sorts of jacked up right in the neck area. It definitely explained where all my headaches come from.

Your favorite food: Noodles. I am a slut for noodles.

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Tagging: Of course, no one I tag needs to do this, only if you want to! @slythindoricequeen @chihxru @vambaer @vball-baes-bball-babes @tashika100 @dreamingofreading @sydniesamm @freelancenewzealand @mild-doormat-lover @watchyourlanguagepeople

#tagged!#Just for fun #thanks for tagging me love!

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mercurygray · 7 years

Note

Writing prompt: Anna and Hewlett, after reuniting and working through all their shiz, have a second (successful!) wedding at Whitehall. Fluff, smut if you wanna take it to their wedding night, tears of joy; I'd take any and all, thank you :)

Anon, sorry this took so long - this was a great prompt but it hit right in the middle of a mess about plagiarism in the TURN fandom and I had to move in a slightly different direction to distance myself from a project that I think someone else is working on.

So. A bit of domestic fluff.

Gentle Tyranny

An Annlett drabble

She was waiting for him, just as she always did.

As much as Edmund loved the stars, there was something indescribably wonderful about coming inside after his studies and seeing her in the midnight firelight, her mind lost in a book or a piece of mending, completely at peace. He’d told her more than once he wished she wouldn’t, for the sake of her eyes, but she wouldn’t listen - every night it was exactly the same.

Except that tonight she had some company - two smallish bodies, curled into her lap and along the rest of the settle, sleeping as soundly as if they were in their beds. He leaned over her carefully to kiss her cheek and examined the sleeping children. “They wanted to wait up for you,” she explained, her voice soft. “A valiant effort that lasted perhaps an hour.”

The larger of the children stirred, turning a bleary eye upward. “Papa…”

Edmund smiled, putting down his papers and picking up his eldest son with a little groan. How big his children are getting. “I think it is bedtime for you, Herschel,” he said quietly, brushing a stray lock away from the boy’s face.

“Wanna see stars,” Herschel mumbled, at the same time burrowing his face further into the lapel of his papa’s soft studying banyan.

“And you shall, my boy, you shall,” Edmund replied, shifting his weight a little so he could carry him upstairs. “But not tonight. Tonight it is time for bed.” He turned, watching Anna lay aside her book and pick up the other child, who slept as soundly as anything, her hair as dark and fine as her mother’s. “It’s a good thing Cassie stayed abed,” he remarked quietly, “Or we wouldn’t be able to get them upstairs ourselves.”

Anna only smiled.

The stairs seemed too tall while carrying a sleeping child of five. Perhaps it was that Herschel was getting heavy or he was getting old - he didn’t quite know which. But every creak in the stairs and every carefully opened door was also somehow precious to him, as precious as the child he was carrying. He laid Herschel down into his bed and tucked the covers around him, kissing his forehead and smiling as his son’s sleepy mouth turned upwards at the corners a little, falling back into sleep again.

“Good night, Andromeda,” he whispered, turning to his daughter, tucked in beside her sister, her hair a dark flash on the pillow next to the nimbus of Cassie’s pale, fine hair. “Good night, Cassiopeia.”

The children help him mark the time - if Herschel was five, then it was eight years since the war had ended and seven years since Anna had agreed to marry him, and if ‘Meda was four, then it was three years since he sold Whitehall and moved them off Long Island to this newer, house across the sound, nearer York City proper, for Herschel had been two then, and 'Meda only one, and Cassie wasn’t even a thought yet until Edmund showed Anna their new bed in their new bedroom and she thanked him for moving them out of the house that had pained her for so long.

It had seemed the better bargain, when Abraham Woodhull had promised it to him - one man who wanted a house to fill with books and papers and another man with a house he wanted nothing more to do with. But Whitehall had come with its own ghosts, though they troubled him less as time went on. He saw Richard in empty rooms and even after he’d filled them with his things the memories of him still lingered, shadows half-seen in the corners of looking glasses and at the edge of candle-lit circles.

And he knew Anna saw more ghosts than he. She’d known the house longer, with more of her hopes and dreams wrapped up in the woodwork - and dashed on the floors, too. (He forgot, sometimes, that in her youth she had meant to marry Abraham.) But somehow she endured it. Raised children in it.

There were good memories, too - sipping madeira by the fire and talking into the night about philosophy, playing the pianoforte with his officers, the wedding night that had been so long postponed. If they ever returned to Long Island, he thought he might even be able to point out the spot on the lawn where they had begun again, she holding a letter she had once forged and he finding, once she had let him read it, that he could not look at her and hate her any longer.

What followed after that was a longer story, but it ended here, in their house, filled only with their memories, carrying their children up to bed. “Did you see your comet?” she asked, once she’d returned from banking down the fire in the parlor.

“Not tonight,” he admitted. “My calculations may be off a little. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

“Will you take Herschel with you?” she asked, shrugging out of her bodice and skirt and running a hand through her hair. Edmund allowed himself a moment to appreciate how she looked in the darkness of the room, a corona of candlelight around her head. “If he brings his soldiers he’ll quiet down soon enough.”

Edmund thought of the little lead figures, lined up across the usually pristine carpet in his observatory - and the sore feet he’d doubtless have after he stepped on at least one. “He’ll fall asleep,” he reminded his wife. “But yes, I’ll let him sit up with me.”

“Good. Now can you help me with this knot?” Anna asked, her mind clearly on other matters now that the business of Herschel was settled, and he turned, fiddling with the fastening on her stays for her.

“You will tie them too tight,” he admonished, fingers picking gingerly at the knot. “And you’ve no need of it, you know that.”

“I think they won’t do me much good, at this point.” Edmund looked up at his wife, ready to do battle with whatever demon she was fighting with about her figure, but she was smiling, in a somewhat apologetic manner. “But my calculations may be off a little, too.”

There was wonder in this, too, that he could not disguise, no matter how quickly she sprang the news on him. “No - another?” She smiled and nodded, pressing his hand along her belly where he could just feel the taut, rounded curve that, after three children, he was coming to know so well. “So soon?”

“It is not soon, Cassie is nearly three. And my husband has been very attentive of late,” she reminded him, butting him gently with her forehead in gentle admonition. “Are you pleased?”

“Only if you are,” he replied, taking her hands and letting them hang between them. “Herschel will demand a brother,” he observed with a smile, which made her laugh again and rest her forehead against his, their breathing mixed, bodies arched together into their own private cathedral.

“Herschel cannot get everything he wants.”He wanted to stay there for hours, to let the feeling of joy sink in, but he knew it was folly. A hundred things could happen between now and then, some of them bad and some of them good and none of them predictable in the slightest. The bed and sleep beckoned, and they went, but he could not help holding her close as she drifted off, her breathing slowing until it was barely perceivable. Another child! His heart was alight with it.

This had not been his path, once - once he would have looked around at a house filled only with papers and books and telescopes and called himself content, but no more. Now he was more apt to move a battery of toy soldiers from atop his notes and fix a position so that a doll might also view the stars, and end the evenings in his observatory carrying sleeping children up to bed. And to all this there was to be another baby - another battery of sleepless nights and shoulders sore from carrying a restless babe, and dozens of missed observations and irritable children to boot.

Alas that love, so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof.

And, Shakespeare in mind, Edmund Hewlett went to bed smiling.

–

I was re-watching Season 1 and that exact Shakespeare quote is one that Hewlett and Richard Woodhull quote to each other when talking about Abe and Anna’s shared romantic past, and I thought - hey, isn’t this applicable to where Anna and Hewlett kind of are at this point in Season 4? In context in Romeo and Juliet, I think Benvolio says the line with a little bit of sarcasm, and I imagine the same eye-rolling emphasis in how Hewlett imagines it at the end.

#turn amc #anna strong #edmund hewlett #annlett

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brad-blr · 6 years

Conversation

romeo and Juliet

Two households, both alike in dignity,

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

From forth the fatal loins of these two foes

A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows

Do with their death bury their parents' strife.

The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,

And the continuance of their parents' rage,

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

Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;

The which if you with patient ears attend,

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

No, for then we should be colliers.

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.

SAMPSON

I strike quickly, being moved.

GREGORY

But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

SAMPSON

A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

GREGORY

To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:

therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

SAMPSON

A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will

take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.

GREGORY

That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes

to the wall.

SAMPSON

True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,

are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push

Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids

to the wall.

GREGORY

The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

SAMPSON

'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I

have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the

maids, and cut off their heads.

GREGORY

The heads of the maids?

SAMPSON

Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;

take it in what sense thou wilt.

GREGORY

They must take it in sense that feel it.

SAMPSON

Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and

'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.

GREGORY

'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou

hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes

two of the house of the Montagues.

SAMPSON

My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

GREGORY

How! turn thy back and run?

SAMPSON

Fear me not.

GREGORY

No, marry; I fear thee!

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as

they list.

SAMPSON

Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;

which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.

Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR

ABRAHAM

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON

I do bite my thumb, sir.

ABRAHAM

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON

[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say

ay?

GREGORY

No.

SAMPSON

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I

bite my thumb, sir.

GREGORY

Do you quarrel, sir?

ABRAHAM

Quarrel sir! no, sir.

SAMPSON

If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

ABRAHAM

No better.

SAMPSON

Well, sir.

GREGORY

Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

SAMPSON

Yes, better, sir.

ABRAHAM

You lie.

SAMPSON

Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.

They fight

Enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIO

Part, fools!

Put up your swords; you know not what you do.

Beats down their swords

Enter TYBALT

TYBALT

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?

Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

BENVOLIO

I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,

Or manage it to part these men with me.

TYBALT

What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,

As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:

Have at thee, coward!

They fight

Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs

First Citizen

Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!

Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!

Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET

CAPULET

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

LADY CAPULET

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

CAPULET

My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,

And flourishes his blade in spite of me.

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

MONTAGUE

Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go.

LADY MONTAGUE

Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.

Enter PRINCE, with Attendants

PRINCE

Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,

Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--

Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,

That quench the fire of your pernicious rage

With purple fountains issuing from your veins,

On pain of torture, from those bloody hands

Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,

And hear the sentence of your moved prince.

Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,

By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,

Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,

And made Verona's ancient citizens

Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,

To wield old partisans, in hands as old,

Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:

If ever you disturb our streets again,

Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.

For this time, all the rest depart away:

You Capulet; shall go along with me:

And, Montague, come you this afternoon,

To know our further pleasure in this case,

To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.

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

Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO

MONTAGUE

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?

Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

BENVOLIO

Here were the servants of your adversary,

And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:

I drew to part them: in the instant came

The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,

Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,

He swung about his head and cut the winds,

Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:

While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,

Came more and more and fought on part and part,

Till the prince came, who parted either part.

LADY MONTAGUE

O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?

Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

BENVOLIO

Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun

Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,

A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;

Where, underneath the grove of sycamore

That westward rooteth from the city's side,

So early walking did I see your son:

Towards him I made, but he was ware of me

And stole into the covert of the wood:

I, measuring his affections by my own,

That most are busied when they're most alone,

Pursued my humour not pursuing his,

And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.

MONTAGUE

Many a morning hath he there been seen,

With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.

Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;

But all so soon as the all-cheering sun

Should in the furthest east begin to draw

The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,

Away from the light steals home my heavy son,

And private in his chamber pens himself,

Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out

And makes himself an artificial night:

Black and portentous must this humour prove,

Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

BENVOLIO

My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

MONTAGUE

I neither know it nor can learn of him.

BENVOLIO

Have you importuned him by any means?

MONTAGUE

Both by myself and many other friends:

But he, his own affections' counsellor,

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

But to himself so secret and so close,

So far from sounding and discovery,

As is the bud bit with an envious worm,

Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,

Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.

Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.

We would as willingly give cure as know.

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIO

See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;

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

MONTAGUE

I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,

To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.

Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

BENVOLIO

Good-morrow, cousin.

ROMEO

Is the day so young?

BENVOLIO

But new struck nine.

ROMEO

Ay me! sad hours seem long.

Was that my father that went hence so fast?

BENVOLIO

It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?

ROMEO

Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

BENVOLIO

In love?

ROMEO

Out--

BENVOLIO

Of love?

ROMEO

Out of her favour, where I am in love.

BENVOLIO

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,

Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

ROMEO

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,

Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!

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

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

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

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

O any thing, of nothing first create!

O heavy lightness! serious vanity!

Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,

sick health!

Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

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

Dost thou not laugh?

BENVOLIO

No, coz, I rather weep.

ROMEO

Good heart, at what?

BENVOLIO

At thy good heart's oppression.

ROMEO

Why, such is love's transgression.

Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,

Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest

With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown

Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.

Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;

Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:

What is it else? a madness most discreet,

A choking gall and a preserving sweet.

Farewell, my coz.

BENVOLIO

Soft! I will go along;

An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

ROMEO

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

This is not Romeo, he's some other where.

BENVOLIO

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.

ROMEO

What, shall I groan and tell thee?

BENVOLIO

Groan! why, no.

But sadly tell me who.

ROMEO

Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:

Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!

In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

BENVOLIO

I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.

ROMEO

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

BENVOLIO

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

ROMEO

Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit

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

And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,

From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.

She will not stay the siege of loving terms,

Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,

Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:

O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,

That when she dies with beauty dies her store.

BENVOLIO

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

ROMEO

She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,

For beauty starved with her severity

Cuts beauty off from all posterity.

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

To merit bliss by making me despair:

She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow

Do I live dead that live to tell it now.

BENVOLIO

Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.

ROMEO

O, teach me how I should forget to think.

BENVOLIO

By giving liberty unto thine eyes;

Examine other beauties.

ROMEO

'Tis the way

To call hers exquisite, in question more:

These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows

Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;

He that is strucken blind cannot forget

The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:

Show me a mistress that is passing fair,

What doth her beauty serve, but as a note

Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?

Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.

BENVOLIO

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

Exeunt

SCENE II. A street.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant

CAPULET

But Montague is bound as well as I,

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

For men so old as we to keep the peace.

PARIS

Of honourable reckoning are you both;

And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.

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

CAPULET

But saying o'er what I have said before:

My child is yet a stranger in the world;

She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,

Let two more summers wither in their pride,

Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

PARIS

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

CAPULET

And too soon marr'd are those so early made.

The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,

She is the hopeful lady of my earth:

But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,

My will to her consent is but a part;

An she agree, within her scope of choice

Lies my consent and fair according voice.

This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,

Whereto I have invited many a guest,

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

One more, most welcome, makes my number more.

At my poor house look to behold this night

Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:

Such comfort as do lusty young men feel

When well-apparell'd April on the heel

Of limping winter treads, even such delight

Among fresh female buds shall you this night

Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,

And like her most whose merit most shall be:

Which on more view, of many mine being one

May stand in number, though in reckoning none,

Come, go with me.

To Servant, giving a paper

Go, sirrah, trudge about

Through fair Verona; find those persons out

Whose names are written there, and to them say,

My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.

Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS

Servant

Find them out whose names are written here! It is

written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his

yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with

his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am

sent to find those persons whose names are here

writ, and can never find what names the writing

person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time.

Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO

BENVOLIO

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

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;

Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;

One desperate grief cures with another's languish:

Take thou some new infection to thy eye,

And the rank poison of the old will die.

ROMEO

Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.

BENVOLIO

For what, I pray thee?

ROMEO

For your broken shin.

BENVOLIO

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

ROMEO

Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;

Shut up in prison, kept without my food,

Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow.

Servant

God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

ROMEO

Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Servant

Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I

pray, can you read any thing you see?

ROMEO

Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Servant

Ye say honestly: rest you merry!

ROMEO

Stay, fellow; I can read.

Reads

'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;

County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady

widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely

nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine

uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece

Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin

Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair

assembly: whither should they come?

Servant

Up.

ROMEO

Whither?

Servant

To supper; to our house.

ROMEO

Whose house?

Servant

My master's.

ROMEO

Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.

Servant

Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the

great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house

of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.

Rest you merry!

Exit

BENVOLIO

At this same ancient feast of Capulet's

Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,

With all the admired beauties of Verona:

Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,

Compare her face with some that I shall show,

And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

ROMEO

When the devout religion of mine eye

Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;

And these, who often drown'd could never die,

Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!

One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun

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

BENVOLIO

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

Herself poised with herself in either eye:

But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd

Your lady's love against some other maid

That I will show you shining at this feast,

And she shall scant show well that now shows best.

ROMEO

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

But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

Exeunt

SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

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

Nurse

Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,

I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!

God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!

Enter JULIET

JULIET

How now! who calls?

Nurse

Your mother.

JULIET

Madam, I am here.

What is your will?

LADY CAPULET

This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile,

We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again;

I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.

Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.

Nurse

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

LADY CAPULET

She's not fourteen.

Nurse

I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--

And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--

She is not fourteen. How long is it now

To Lammas-tide?

LADY CAPULET

A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse

Even or odd, of all days in the year,

Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.

Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--

Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;

She was too good for me: but, as I said,

On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;

That shall she, marry; I remember it well.

'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;

And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,--

Of all the days of the year, upon that day:

For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,

Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;

My lord and you were then at Mantua:--

Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said,

When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple

Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,

To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!

Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,

To bid me trudge:

And since that time it is eleven years;

For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,

She could have run and waddled all about;

For even the day before, she broke her brow:

And then my husband--God be with his soul!

A' was a merry man--took up the child:

'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?

Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;

Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,

The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'

To see, now, how a jest shall come about!

I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,

I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;

And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'

LADY CAPULET

Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Nurse

Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,

To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'

And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow

A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;

A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:

'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?

Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;

Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'

JULIET

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

Nurse

Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!

Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:

An I might live to see thee married once,

I have my wish.

LADY CAPULET

Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme

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

How stands your disposition to be married?

JULIET

It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurse

An honour! were not I thine only nurse,

I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.

LADY CAPULET

Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,

Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,

Are made already mothers: by my count,

I was your mother much upon these years

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

The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse

A man, young lady! lady, such a man

As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.

LADY CAPULET

Verona's summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse

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

LADY CAPULET

What say you? can you love the gentleman?

This night you shall behold him at our feast;

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

And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;

Examine every married lineament,

And see how one another lends content

And what obscured in this fair volume lies

Find written in the margent of his eyes.

This precious book of love, this unbound lover,

To beautify him, only lacks a cover:

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

For fair without the fair within to hide:

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

That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;

So shall you share all that he doth possess,

By having him, making yourself no less.

Nurse

No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.

LADY CAPULET

Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?

JULIET

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

But no more deep will I endart mine eye

Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.

Enter a Servant

Servant

Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you

called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in

the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must

hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

LADY CAPULET

We follow thee.

Exit Servant

Juliet, the county stays.

Nurse

Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others

ROMEO

What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?

Or shall we on without a apology?

BENVOLIO

The date is out of such prolixity:

We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,

Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,

Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;

Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke

After the prompter, for our entrance:

But let them measure us by what they will;

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

ROMEO

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

Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

MERCUTIO

Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

ROMEO

Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes

With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead

So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO

You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,

And soar with them above a common bound.

ROMEO

I am too sore enpierced with his shaft

To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,

I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:

Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

MERCUTIO

And, to sink in it, should you burden love;

Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROMEO

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,

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

MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love;

Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

Give me a case to put my visage in:

A visor for a visor! what care I

What curious eye doth quote deformities?

Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

BENVOLIO

Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,

But every man betake him to his legs.

ROMEO

A torch for me: let wantons light of heart

Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,

For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;

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

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

MERCUTIO

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

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

Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st

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

ROMEO

Nay, that's not so.

MERCUTIO

I mean, sir, in delay

We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.

Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits

Five times in that ere once in our five wits.

ROMEO

And we mean well in going to this mask;

But 'tis no wit to go.

MERCUTIO

Why, may one ask?

ROMEO

I dream'd a dream to-night.

MERCUTIO

And so did I.

ROMEO

Well, what was yours?

MERCUTIO

That dreamers often lie.

ROMEO

In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

MERCUTIO

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

She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes

In shape no bigger than an agate-stone

On the fore-finger of an alderman,

Drawn with a team of little atomies

Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;

Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,

The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,

The traces of the smallest spider's web,

The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,

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

Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,

Not so big as a round little worm

Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;

Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut

Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,

Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

And in this state she gallops night by night

Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;

O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,

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

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

Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,

Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:

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

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;

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

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

Then dreams, he of another benefice:

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

And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,

Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,

Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon

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

And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two

And sleeps again. This is that very Mab

That plats the manes of horses in the night,

And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,

Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:

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

That presses them and learns them first to bear,

Making them women of good carriage:

This is she--

ROMEO

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!

Thou talk'st of nothing.

MERCUTIO

True, I talk of dreams,

Which are the children of an idle brain,

Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,

Which is as thin of substance as the air

And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes

Even now the frozen bosom of the north,

And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,

Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO

This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;

Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

ROMEO

I fear, too early: for my mind misgives

Some consequence yet hanging in the stars

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels and expire the term

Of a despised life closed in my breast

By some vile forfeit of untimely death.

But He, that hath the steerage of my course,

Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.

BENVOLIO

Strike, drum.

Exeunt

SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins

First Servant

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

shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!

Second Servant

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

hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

First Servant

Away with the joint-stools, remove the

court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save

me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let

the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.

Antony, and Potpan!

Second Servant

Ay, boy, ready.

First Servant

You are looked for and called for, asked for and

sought for, in the great chamber.

Second Servant

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

brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

CAPULET

Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes

Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.

Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all

Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,

She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?

Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day

That I have worn a visor and could tell

A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,

Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:

You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.

A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.

Music plays, and they dance

More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,

And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.

Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.

Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;

For you and I are past our dancing days:

How long is't now since last yourself and I

Were in a mask?

Second Capulet

By'r lady, thirty years.

CAPULET

What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:

'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,

Come pentecost as quickly as it will,

Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.

Second Capulet

'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;

His son is thirty.

CAPULET

Will you tell me that?

His son was but a ward two years ago.

ROMEO

[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth

enrich the hand

Of yonder knight?

Servant

I know not, sir.

ROMEO

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,

As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.

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

And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!

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

TYBALT

This, by his voice, should be a Montague.

Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave

Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,

To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?

Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,

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

CAPULET

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

TYBALT

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,

A villain that is hither come in spite,

To scorn at our solemnity this night.

CAPULET

Young Romeo is it?

TYBALT

'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

CAPULET

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;

He bears him like a portly gentleman;

And, to say truth, Verona brags of him

To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:

I would not for the wealth of all the town

Here in my house do him disparagement:

Therefore be patient, take no note of him:

It is my will, the which if thou respect,

Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,

And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

TYBALT

It fits, when such a villain is a guest:

I'll not endure him.

CAPULET

He shall be endured:

What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;

Am I the master here, or you? go to.

You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!

You'll make a mutiny among my guests!

You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!

TYBALT

Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

CAPULET

Go to, go to;

You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?

This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:

You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.

Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:

Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame!

I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!

TYBALT

Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting

Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.

I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall

Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.

Exit

ROMEO

[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

JULIET

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.

ROMEO

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

JULIET

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

ROMEO

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

JULIET

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.

ROMEO

Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

JULIET

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

ROMEO

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.

JULIET

You kiss by the book.

Nurse

Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

ROMEO

What is her mother?

Nurse

Marry, bachelor,

Her mother is the lady of the house,

And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous

I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal;

I tell you, he that can lay hold of her

Shall have the chinks.

ROMEO

Is she a Capulet?

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

BENVOLIO

Away, begone; the sport is at the best.

ROMEO

Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

CAPULET

Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;

We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.

Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all

I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.

More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed.

Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:

I'll to my rest.

Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse

JULIET

Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?

Nurse

The son and heir of old Tiberio.

JULIET

What's he that now is going out of door?

Nurse

Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.

JULIET

What's he that follows there, that would not dance?

Nurse

I know not.

JULIET

Go ask his name: if he be married.

My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse

His name is Romeo, and a Montague;

The only son of your great enemy.

JULIET

My only love sprung from my only hate!

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!

Prodigious birth of love it is to me,

That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nurse

What's this? what's this?

JULIET

A rhyme I learn'd even now

Of one I danced withal.

One calls within 'Juliet.'

Nurse

Anon, anon!

Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.

Exeunt

ACT II

PROLOGUE

Enter Chorus

Chorus

Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,

And young affection gapes to be his heir;

That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,

With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.

Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,

Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,

But to his foe supposed he must complain,

And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:

Being held a foe, he may not have access

To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;

And she as much in love, her means much less

To meet her new-beloved any where:

But passion lends them power, time means, to meet

Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.

Exit

SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Can I go forward when my heart is here?

Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

BENVOLIO

Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

MERCUTIO

He is wise;

And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.

BENVOLIO

He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:

Call, good Mercutio.

MERCUTIO

Nay, I'll conjure too.

Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!

Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:

Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;

Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'

Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,

One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,

Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,

When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!

He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;

The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.

I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,

By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,

By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh

And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,

That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

BENVOLIO

And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

MERCUTIO

This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him

To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle

Of some strange nature, letting it there stand

Till she had laid it and conjured it down;

That were some spite: my invocation

Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name

I conjure only but to raise up him.

BENVOLIO

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,

To be consorted with the humorous night:

Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

MERCUTIO

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

Now will he sit under a medlar tree,

And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit

As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.

Romeo, that she were, O, that she were

An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!

Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;

This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:

Come, shall we go?

BENVOLIO

Go, then; for 'tis in vain

To seek him here that means not to be found.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

JULIET appears above at a window

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou her maid art far more fair than she:

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

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

It is my lady, O, it is my love!

O, that she knew she were!

She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?

Her eye discourses; I will answer it.

I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:

Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,

Having some business, do entreat her eyes

To twinkle in their spheres till they return.

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

The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven

Would through the airy region stream so bright

That birds would sing and think it were not night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!

O, that I were a glove upon that hand,

That I might touch that cheek!

JULIET

Ay me!

ROMEO

She speaks:

O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art

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

As is a winged messenger of heaven

Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes

Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him

When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds

And sails upon the bosom of the air.

JULIET

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father and refuse thy name;

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

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

ROMEO

[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

JULIET

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

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

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,

Retain that dear perfection which he owes

Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,

And for that name which is no part of thee

Take all myself.

ROMEO

I take thee at thy word:

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

Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

JULIET

What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night

So stumblest on my counsel?

ROMEO

By a name

I know not how to tell thee who I am:

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,

Because it is an enemy to thee;

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

JULIET

My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words

Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:

Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?

ROMEO

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

JULIET

How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,

And the place death, considering who thou art,

If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

ROMEO

With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do that dares love attempt;

Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

JULIET

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

ROMEO

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye

Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity.

JULIET

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

ROMEO

I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;

And but thou love me, let them find me here:

My life were better ended by their hate,

Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

JULIET

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

ROMEO

By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;

He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far

As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,

I would adventure for such merchandise.

JULIET

Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night

Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny

What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'

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

Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries

Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:

Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,

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

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

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:

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

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

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

My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered.

ROMEO

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear

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

JULIET

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

That monthly changes in her circled orb,

Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

ROMEO

What shall I swear by?

JULIET

Do not swear at all;

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

Which is the god of my idolatry,

And I'll believe thee.

ROMEO

If my heart's dear love--

JULIET

Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,

I have no joy of this contract to-night:

It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;

Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be

Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!

This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,

May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest

Come to thy heart as that within my breast!

ROMEO

O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

JULIET

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

ROMEO

The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

JULIET

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:

And yet I would it were to give again.

ROMEO

Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

JULIET

But to be frank, and give it thee again.

And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

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

The more I have, for both are infinite.

Nurse calls within

I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!

Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.

Stay but a little, I will come again.

Exit, above

ROMEO

O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.

Being in night, all this is but a dream,

Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIET

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable,

Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,

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

Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;

And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay

And follow thee my lord throughout the world.

Nurse

[Within] Madam!

JULIET

I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,

I do beseech thee--

Nurse

[Within] Madam!

JULIET

By and by, I come:--

To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:

To-morrow will I send.

ROMEO

So thrive my soul--

JULIET

A thousand times good night!

Exit, above

ROMEO

A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from

their books,

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Retiring

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIET

Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;

Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,

And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,

With repetition of my Romeo's name.

ROMEO

It is my soul that calls upon my name:

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,

Like softest music to attending ears!

JULIET

Romeo!

ROMEO

My dear?

JULIET

At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee?

ROMEO

At the hour of nine.

JULIET

I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

ROMEO

Let me stand here till thou remember it.

JULIET

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,

Remembering how I love thy company.

ROMEO

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

Forgetting any other home but this.

JULIET

'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:

And yet no further than a wanton's bird;

Who lets it hop a little from her hand,

Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ROMEO

I would I were thy bird.

JULIET

Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Good night, good night! parting is such

sweet sorrow,

That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

Exit above

ROMEO

Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!

Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!

Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,

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

Exit

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket

FRIAR LAURENCE

The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,

Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,

And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels

From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:

Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,

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

I must up-fill this osier cage of ours

With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.

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

What is her burying grave that is her womb,

And from her womb children of divers kind

We sucking on her natural bosom find,

Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some and yet all different.

O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies

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

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live

But to the earth some special good doth give,

Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;

And vice sometimes by action dignified.

Within the infant rind of this small flower

Poison hath residence and medicine power:

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

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.

Two such opposed kings encamp them still

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

And where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Good morrow, father.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Benedicite!

What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?

Young son, it argues a distemper'd head

So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:

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

And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;

But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain

Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:

Therefore thy earliness doth me assure

Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;

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

Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.

ROMEO

That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?

ROMEO

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;

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

FRIAR LAURENCE

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

ROMEO

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

I have been feasting with mine enemy,

Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,

That's by me wounded: both our remedies

Within thy help and holy physic lies:

I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,

My intercession likewise steads my foe.

FRIAR LAURENCE

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

Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

ROMEO

Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set

On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:

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

And all combined, save what thou must combine

By holy marriage: when and where and how

We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,

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

That thou consent to marry us to-day.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!

Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,

So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies

Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine

Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!

How much salt water thrown away in waste,

To season love, that of it doth not taste!

The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,

Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;

Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit

Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:

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

Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:

And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,

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

ROMEO

Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.

FRIAR LAURENCE

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

ROMEO

And bad'st me bury love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Not in a grave,

To lay one in, another out to have.

ROMEO

I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now

Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;

The other did not so.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O, she knew well

Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.

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

In one respect I'll thy assistant be;

For this alliance may so happy prove,

To turn your households' rancour to pure love.

ROMEO

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

FRIAR LAURENCE

Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

MERCUTIO

Where the devil should this Romeo be?

Came he not home to-night?

BENVOLIO

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

MERCUTIO

Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.

Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.

BENVOLIO

Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,

Hath sent a letter to his father's house.

MERCUTIO

A challenge, on my life.

BENVOLIO

Romeo will answer it.

MERCUTIO

Any man that can write may answer a letter.

BENVOLIO

Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he

dares, being dared.

MERCUTIO

Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a

white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a

love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the

blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to

encounter Tybalt?

BENVOLIO

Why, what is Tybalt?

MERCUTIO

More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is

the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as

you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and

proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and

the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk

button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the

very first house, of the first and second cause:

ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the

hai!

BENVOLIO

The what?

MERCUTIO

The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting

fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,

a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good

whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,

grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with

these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these

perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,

that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their

bones, their bones!

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIO

Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.

MERCUTIO

Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,

how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers

that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a

kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to

be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;

Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey

eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior

Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation

to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit

fairly last night.

ROMEO

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

MERCUTIO

The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?

ROMEO

Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in

such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

MERCUTIO

That's as much as to say, such a case as yours

constrains a man to bow in the hams.

ROMEO

Meaning, to court'sy.

MERCUTIO

Thou hast most kindly hit it.

ROMEO

A most courteous exposition.

MERCUTIO

Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

ROMEO

Pink for flower.

MERCUTIO

Right.

ROMEO

Why, then is my pump well flowered.

MERCUTIO

Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast

worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it

is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.

ROMEO

O single-soled jest, solely singular for the

singleness.

MERCUTIO

Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.

ROMEO

Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.

MERCUTIO

Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have

done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of

thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:

was I with you there for the goose?

ROMEO

Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast

not there for the goose.

MERCUTIO

I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.

ROMEO

Nay, good goose, bite not.

MERCUTIO

Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most

sharp sauce.

ROMEO

And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?

MERCUTIO

O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an

inch narrow to an ell broad!

ROMEO

I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added

to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

MERCUTIO

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?

now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art

thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:

for this drivelling love is like a great natural,

that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.

BENVOLIO

Stop there, stop there.

MERCUTIO

Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.

BENVOLIO

Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.

MERCUTIO

O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:

for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and

meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.

ROMEO

Here's goodly gear!

Enter Nurse and PETER

MERCUTIO

A sail, a sail!

BENVOLIO

Two, two; a shirt and a smock.

Nurse

Peter!

PETER

Anon!

Nurse

My fan, Peter.

MERCUTIO

Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the

fairer face.

Nurse

God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

MERCUTIO

God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

Nurse

Is it good den?

MERCUTIO

'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the

dial is now upon the prick of noon.

Nurse

Out upon you! what a man are you!

ROMEO

One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to

mar.

Nurse

By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,'

quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I

may find the young Romeo?

ROMEO

I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when

you have found him than he was when you sought him:

I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.

Nurse

You say well.

MERCUTIO

Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;

wisely, wisely.

Nurse

if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with

you.

BENVOLIO

She will indite him to some supper.

MERCUTIO

A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!

ROMEO

What hast thou found?

MERCUTIO

No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,

that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

Sings

An old hare hoar,

And an old hare hoar,

Is very good meat in lent

But a hare that is hoar

Is too much for a score,

When it hoars ere it be spent.

Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll

to dinner, thither.

ROMEO

I will follow you.

MERCUTIO

Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,

Singing

'lady, lady, lady.'

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

Nurse

Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy

merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?

ROMEO

A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,

and will speak more in a minute than he will stand

to in a month.

Nurse

An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him

down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such

Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall.

Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am

none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by

too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?

PETER

I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon

should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare

draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a

good quarrel, and the law on my side.

Nurse

Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about

me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:

and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you

out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:

but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into

a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross

kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman

is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double

with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered

to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

ROMEO

Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I

protest unto thee--

Nurse

Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:

Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.

ROMEO

What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.

Nurse

I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as

I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.

ROMEO

Bid her devise

Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;

And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell

Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.

Nurse

No truly sir; not a penny.

ROMEO

Go to; I say you shall.

Nurse

This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.

ROMEO

And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:

Within this hour my man shall be with thee

And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;

Which to the high top-gallant of my joy

Must be my convoy in the secret night.

Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:

Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.

Nurse

Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.

ROMEO

What say'st thou, my dear nurse?

Nurse

Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,

Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

ROMEO

I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.

NURSE

Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord,

Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there

is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain

lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief

see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her

sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer

man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks

as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not

rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

ROMEO

Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.

Nurse

Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for

the--No; I know it begins with some other

letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of

it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good

to hear it.

ROMEO

Commend me to thy lady.

Nurse

Ay, a thousand times.

Exit Romeo

Peter!

PETER

Anon!

Nurse

Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

Enter JULIET

JULIET

The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;

In half an hour she promised to return.

Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so.

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

Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,

Driving back shadows over louring hills:

Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,

And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

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

Is three long hours, yet she is not come.

Had she affections and warm youthful blood,

She would be as swift in motion as a ball;

My words would bandy her to my sweet love,

And his to me:

But old folks, many feign as they were dead;

Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.

O God, she comes!

Enter Nurse and PETER

O honey nurse, what news?

Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.

Nurse

Peter, stay at the gate.

Exit PETER

JULIET

Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;

If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news

By playing it to me with so sour a face.

Nurse

I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:

Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!

JULIET

I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:

Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.

Nurse

Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?

Do you not see that I am out of breath?

JULIET

How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath

To say to me that thou art out of breath?

The excuse that thou dost make in this delay

Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.

Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;

Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:

Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?

Nurse

Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not

how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his

face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels

all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,

though they be not to be talked on, yet they are

past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,

but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy

ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?

JULIET

No, no: but all this did I know before.

What says he of our marriage? what of that?

Nurse

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

It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back!

Beshrew your heart for sending me about,

To catch my death with jaunting up and down!

JULIET

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

Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Nurse

Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a

courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I

warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?

JULIET

Where is my mother! why, she is within;

Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!

'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,

Where is your mother?'

Nurse

O God's lady dear!

Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;

Is this the poultice for my aching bones?

Henceforward do your messages yourself.

JULIET

Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?

Nurse

Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?

JULIET

I have.

Nurse

Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;

There stays a husband to make you a wife:

Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,

They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.

Hie you to church; I must another way,

To fetch a ladder, by the which your love

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

I am the drudge and toil in your delight,

But you shall bear the burden soon at night.

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

JULIET

Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO

FRIAR LAURENCE

So smile the heavens upon this holy act,

That after hours with sorrow chide us not!

ROMEO

Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,

It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

That one short minute gives me in her sight:

Do thou but close our hands with holy words,

Then love-devouring death do what he dare;

It is enough I may but call her mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness

And in the taste confounds the appetite:

Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

Enter JULIET

Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot

Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:

A lover may bestride the gossamer

That idles in the wanton summer air,

And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

JULIET

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

JULIET

As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

ROMEO

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more

To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue

Unfold the imagined happiness that both

Receive in either by this dear encounter.

JULIET

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,

Brags of his substance, not of ornament:

They are but beggars that can count their worth;

But my true love is grown to such excess

I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

FRIAR LAURENCE

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

For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone

Till holy church incorporate two in one.

Exeunt

ACT III

SCENE I. A public place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants

BENVOLIO

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

The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,

And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;

For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

MERCUTIO

Thou art like one of those fellows that when he

enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword

upon the table and says 'God send me no need of

thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws

it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

BENVOLIO

Am I like such a fellow?

MERCUTIO

Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as

any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as

soon moody to be moved.

BENVOLIO

And what to?

MERCUTIO

Nay, an there were two such, we should have none

shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why,

thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,

or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou

wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no

other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what

eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?

Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of

meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as

an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a

man for coughing in the street, because he hath

wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:

didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing

his new doublet before Easter? with another, for

tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou

wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

BENVOLIO

An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man

should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

MERCUTIO

The fee-simple! O simple!

BENVOLIO

By my head, here come the Capulets.

MERCUTIO

By my heel, I care not.

Enter TYBALT and others

TYBALT

Follow me close, for I will speak to them.

Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.

MERCUTIO

And but one word with one of us? couple it with

something; make it a word and a blow.

TYBALT

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you

will give me occasion.

MERCUTIO

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

TYBALT

Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--

MERCUTIO

Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an

thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but

discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall

make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!

BENVOLIO

We talk here in the public haunt of men:

Either withdraw unto some private place,

And reason coldly of your grievances,

Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

MERCUTIO

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

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

Enter ROMEO

TYBALT

Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.

MERCUTIO

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

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

Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'

TYBALT

Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford

No better term than this,--thou art a villain.

ROMEO

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage

To such a greeting: villain am I none;

Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.

TYBALT

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.

ROMEO

I do protest, I never injured thee,

But love thee better than thou canst devise,

Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:

And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender

As dearly as my own,--be satisfied.

MERCUTIO

O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!

Alla stoccata carries it away.

Draws

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

TYBALT

What wouldst thou have with me?

MERCUTIO

Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine

lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you

shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the

eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher

by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your

ears ere it be out.

TYBALT

I am for you.

Drawing

ROMEO

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

MERCUTIO

Come, sir, your passado.

They fight

ROMEO

Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.

Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!

Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath

Forbidden bandying in Verona streets:

Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!

TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers

MERCUTIO

I am hurt.

A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.

Is he gone, and hath nothing?

BENVOLIO

What, art thou hurt?

MERCUTIO

Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.

Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

Exit Page

ROMEO

Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

MERCUTIO

No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a

church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for

me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I

am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'

both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a

cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a

rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of

arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I

was hurt under your arm.

ROMEO

I thought all for the best.

MERCUTIO

Help me into some house, Benvolio,

Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!

They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,

And soundly too: your houses!

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

ROMEO

This gentleman, the prince's near ally,

My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt

In my behalf; my reputation stain'd

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

Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet,

Thy beauty hath made me effeminate

And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!

Re-enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIO

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!

That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

ROMEO

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

This but begins the woe, others must end.

BENVOLIO

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

ROMEO

Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!

Away to heaven, respective lenity,

And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!

Re-enter TYBALT

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,

That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul

Is but a little way above our heads,

Staying for thine to keep him company:

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

TYBALT

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,

Shalt with him hence.

ROMEO

This shall determine that.

They fight; TYBALT falls

BENVOLIO

Romeo, away, be gone!

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.

Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,

If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!

ROMEO

O, I am fortune's fool!

BENVOLIO

Why dost thou stay?

Exit ROMEO

Enter Citizens, & c

First Citizen

Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

BENVOLIO

There lies that Tybalt.

First Citizen

Up, sir, go with me;

I charge thee in the princes name, obey.

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others

PRINCE

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

BENVOLIO

O noble prince, I can discover all

The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:

There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,

That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

LADY CAPULET

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

O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt

O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,

For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.

O cousin, cousin!

PRINCE

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

BENVOLIO

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

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink

How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal

Your high displeasure: all this uttered

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,

Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts

With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,

Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

Cold death aside, and with the other sends

It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,

Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,

'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than

his tongue,

His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;

But by and by comes back to Romeo,

Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

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

Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.

And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.

This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

LADY CAPULET

He is a kinsman to the Montague;

Affection makes him false; he speaks not true:

Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,

And all those twenty could but kill one life.

I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;

Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

PRINCE

Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;

Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

MONTAGUE

Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;

His fault concludes but what the law should end,

The life of Tybalt.

PRINCE

And for that offence

Immediately we do exile him hence:

I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;

But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine

That you shall all repent the loss of mine:

I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;

Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses:

Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,

Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.

Bear hence this body and attend our will:

Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.

Enter JULIET

JULIET

Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner

As Phaethon would whip you to the west,

And bring in cloudy night immediately.

Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,

That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo

Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.

Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

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

It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,

Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

And learn me how to lose a winning match,

Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:

Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,

With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,

Think true love acted simple modesty.

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

For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.

Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,

Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night

And pay no worship to the garish sun.

O, I have bought the mansion of a love,

But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,

Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day

As is the night before some festival

To an impatient child that hath new robes

And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,

And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks

But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.

Enter Nurse, with cords

Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords

That Romeo bid thee fetch?

Nurse

Ay, ay, the cords.

Throws them down

JULIET

Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?

Nurse

Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!

We are undone, lady, we are undone!

Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!

JULIET

Can heaven be so envious?

Nurse

Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!

Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

JULIET

What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?

This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.

Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'

And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more

Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:

I am not I, if there be such an I;

Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'

If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:

Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nurse

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

God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:

A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;

Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,

All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.

JULIET

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

To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;

And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse

O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!

That ever I should live to see thee dead!

JULIET

What storm is this that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?

My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!

For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse

Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;

Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

JULIET

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

Nurse

It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

JULIET

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!

Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!

Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!

Despised substance of divinest show!

Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,

A damned saint, an honourable villain!

O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,

When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?

Was ever book containing such vile matter

So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell

In such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse

There's no trust,

No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,

All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae:

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

Shame come to Romeo!

JULIET

Blister'd be thy tongue

For such a wish! he was not born to shame:

Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;

For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd

Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse

Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?

JULIET

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

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

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

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

That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;

Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;

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

All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?

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

That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;

But, O, it presses to my memory,

Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:

'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;'

That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'

Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death

Was woe enough, if it had ended there:

Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship

And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,

Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'

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

Which modern lamentations might have moved?

But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,

'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word,

Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!'

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

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

Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Nurse

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:

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

JULIET

Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.

Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:

He made you for a highway to my bed;

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.

Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse

Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo

To comfort you: I wot well where he is.

Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:

I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

JULIET

O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:

Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,

And thou art wedded to calamity.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,

That I yet know not?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Too familiar

Is my dear son with such sour company:

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

ROMEO

What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?

FRIAR LAURENCE

A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,

Not body's death, but body's banishment.

ROMEO

Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;'

For exile hath more terror in his look,

Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hence from Verona art thou banished:

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

ROMEO

There is no world without Verona walls,

But purgatory, torture, hell itself.

Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,

And world's exile is death: then banished,

Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,

Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,

And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!

Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,

Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,

And turn'd that black word death to banishment:

This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

ROMEO

'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,

Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog

And little mouse, every unworthy thing,

Live here in heaven and may look on her;

But Romeo may not: more validity,

More honourable state, more courtship lives

In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize

On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand

And steal immortal blessing from her lips,

Who even in pure and vestal modesty,

Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;

But Romeo may not; he is banished:

Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:

They are free men, but I am banished.

And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?

Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,

No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,

But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?

O friar, the damned use that word in hell;

Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,

Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,

A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,

To mangle me with that word 'banished'?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.

ROMEO

O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I'll give thee armour to keep off that word:

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

ROMEO

Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,

Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,

It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

ROMEO

How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

ROMEO

Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:

Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,

An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,

Doting like me and like me banished,

Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

Knocking within

FRIAR LAURENCE

Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.

ROMEO

Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,

Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.

Knocking

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;

Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;

Knocking

Run to my study. By and by! God's will,

What simpleness is this! I come, I come!

Knocking

Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?

Nurse

[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know

my errand;

I come from Lady Juliet.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Welcome, then.

Enter Nurse

Nurse

O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,

Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?

FRIAR LAURENCE

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Nurse

O, he is even in my mistress' case,

Just in her case! O woful sympathy!

Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,

Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.

Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:

For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;

Why should you fall into so deep an O?

ROMEO

Nurse!

Nurse

Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.

ROMEO

Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?

Doth she not think me an old murderer,

Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy

With blood removed but little from her own?

Where is she? and how doth she? and what says

My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

Nurse

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;

And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,

And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,

And then down falls again.

ROMEO

As if that name,

Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand

Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,

In what vile part of this anatomy

Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack

The hateful mansion.

Drawing his sword

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold thy desperate hand:

Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:

Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote

The unreasonable fury of a beast:

Unseemly woman in a seeming man!

Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!

Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,

I thought thy disposition better temper'd.

Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?

And stay thy lady too that lives in thee,

By doing damned hate upon thyself?

Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?

Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet

In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.

Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;

Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,

And usest none in that true use indeed

Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:

Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,

Digressing from the valour of a man;

Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,

Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;

Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,

Misshapen in the conduct of them both,

Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask,

Is set afire by thine own ignorance,

And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.

What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,

For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;

There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,

But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:

The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend

And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:

A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;

Happiness courts thee in her best array;

But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,

Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:

Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.

Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,

Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:

But look thou stay not till the watch be set,

For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;

Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time

To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,

Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back

With twenty hundred thousand times more joy

Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.

Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;

And bid her hasten all the house to bed,

Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:

Romeo is coming.

Nurse

O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night

To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!

My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

ROMEO

Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

Nurse

Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:

Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

Exit

ROMEO

How well my comfort is revived by this!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:

Either be gone before the watch be set,

Or by the break of day disguised from hence:

Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,

And he shall signify from time to time

Every good hap to you that chances here:

Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.

ROMEO

But that a joy past joy calls out on me,

It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS

CAPULET

Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,

That we have had no time to move our daughter:

Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,

And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.

'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:

I promise you, but for your company,

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

PARIS

These times of woe afford no time to woo.

Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.

LADY CAPULET

I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;

To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.

CAPULET

Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender

Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled

In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.

Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;

Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;

And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--

But, soft! what day is this?

PARIS

Monday, my lord,

CAPULET

Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,

O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,

She shall be married to this noble earl.

Will you be ready? do you like this haste?

We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two;

For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,

It may be thought we held him carelessly,

Being our kinsman, if we revel much:

Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,

And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?

PARIS

My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.

CAPULET

Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then.

Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,

Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.

Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!

Afore me! it is so very very late,

That we may call it early by and by.

Good night.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.

Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window

JULIET

Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:

Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

ROMEO

It was the lark, the herald of the morn,

No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks

Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:

Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day

Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.

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

JULIET

Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:

It is some meteor that the sun exhales,

To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,

And light thee on thy way to Mantua:

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

ROMEO

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

I am content, so thou wilt have it so.

I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,

'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;

Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat

The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:

I have more care to stay than will to go:

Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.

How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.

JULIET

It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!

It is the lark that sings so out of tune,

Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.

Some say the lark makes sweet division;

This doth not so, for she divideth us:

Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,

O, now I would they had changed voices too!

Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,

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

O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.

ROMEO

More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!

Enter Nurse, to the chamber

Nurse

Madam!

JULIET

Nurse?

Nurse

Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:

The day is broke; be wary, look about.

Exit

JULIET

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

ROMEO

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

He goeth down

JULIET

Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!

I must hear from thee every day in the hour,

For in a minute there are many days:

O, by this count I shall be much in years

Ere I again behold my Romeo!

ROMEO

Farewell!

I will omit no opportunity

That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

JULIET

O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

ROMEO

I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourses in our time to come.

JULIET

O God, I have an ill-divining soul!

Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,

As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:

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

ROMEO

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

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

Exit

JULIET

O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:

If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.

That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;

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

But send him back.

LADY CAPULET

[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up?

JULIET

Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?

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

What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

Why, how now, Juliet!

JULIET

Madam, I am not well.

LADY CAPULET

Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?

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

An 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.

JULIET

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

LADY CAPULET

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend

Which you weep for.

JULIET

Feeling so the loss,

Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

LADY CAPULET

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

As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

JULIET

What villain madam?

LADY CAPULET

That same villain, Romeo.

JULIET

[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.--

God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;

And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

LADY CAPULET

That is, because the traitor murderer lives.

JULIET

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

Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!

LADY CAPULET

We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:

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

Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,

Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,

That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:

And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

JULIET

Indeed, I never shall be satisfied

With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--

Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.

Madam, if you could find out but a man

To bear a poison, I would temper it;

That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,

Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors

To hear him named, and cannot come to him.

To wreak the love I bore my cousin

Upon his body that slaughter'd him!

LADY CAPULET

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

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

JULIET

And joy comes well in such a needy time:

What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

LADY CAPULET

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

One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,

Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,

That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.

JULIET

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

LADY CAPULET

Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,

The gallant, young and noble gentleman,

The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,

Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

JULIET

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

He 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,

It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,

Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!

LADY CAPULET

Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,

And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULET

When the sun sets, the air 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 showering? In one little body

Thou counterfeit'st 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,

Without a sudden calm, will overset

Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!

Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

LADY CAPULET

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

I would the fool were married to her grave!

CAPULET

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 blest,

Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought

So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

JULIET

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.

CAPULET

How now, how now, chop-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,

To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,

Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

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

You tallow-face!

LADY CAPULET

Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

JULIET

Good father, I beseech you on my knees,

Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

CAPULET

Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!

I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,

Or never after look me in the face:

Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;

My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest

That God had lent us but this only child;

But now I see this one is one too much,

And that we have a curse in having her:

Out on her, hilding!

Nurse

God in heaven bless her!

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

CAPULET

And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,

Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.

Nurse

I speak no treason.

CAPULET

O, God ye god-den.

Nurse

May not one speak?

CAPULET

Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;

For here we need it not.

LADY CAPULET

You are too hot.

CAPULET

God's bread! it makes me mad:

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

Alone, in company, still my care hath been

To have her match'd: and having now provided

A gentleman of noble parentage,

Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,

Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,

Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;

And then to have a wretched puling fool,

A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,

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

I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'

But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:

Graze 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;

And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in

the streets,

For, 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

JULIET

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,

That sees into the bottom of my grief?

O, 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.

LADY CAPULET

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

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

Exit

JULIET

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,

Unless that husband send it me from heaven

By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.

Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems

Upon so soft a subject as myself!

What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?

Some comfort, nurse.

Nurse

Faith, here it is.

Romeo is banish'd; 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.

Then, 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

As 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.

JULIET

Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse

And from my soul too;

Or else beshrew them both.

JULIET

Amen!

Nurse

What?

JULIET

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.

Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,

Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,

To make confession and to be absolved.

Nurse

Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

Exit

JULIET

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, counsellor;

Thou 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.

Exit

ACT IV

SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS

FRIAR LAURENCE

On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.

PARIS

My father Capulet will have it so;

And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

You say you do not know the lady's mind:

Uneven is the course, I like it not.

PARIS

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,

And therefore have I little talk'd of love;

For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.

Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous

That she doth give her sorrow so much sway,

And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,

To stop the inundation of her tears;

Which, too much minded by herself alone,

May be put from her by society:

Now do you know the reason of this haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.

Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.

Enter JULIET

PARIS

Happily met, my lady and my wife!

JULIET

That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.

PARIS

That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.

JULIET

What must be shall be.

FRIAR LAURENCE

That's a certain text.

PARIS

Come you to make confession to this father?

JULIET

To answer that, I should confess to you.

PARIS

Do not deny to him that you love me.

JULIET

I will confess to you that I love him.

PARIS

So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.

JULIET

If I do so, it will be of more price,

Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

PARIS

Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.

JULIET

The tears have got small victory by that;

For it was bad enough before their spite.

PARIS

Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.

JULIET

That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;

And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

PARIS

Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.

JULIET

It may be so, for it is not mine own.

Are you at leisure, holy father, now;

Or shall I come to you at evening mass?

FRIAR LAURENCE

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.

My lord, we must entreat the time alone.

PARIS

God shield I should disturb devotion!

Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:

Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.

Exit

JULIET

O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,

Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;

It strains me past the compass of my wits:

I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,

On Thursday next be married to this county.

JULIET

Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,

Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:

If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,

Do thou but call my resolution wise,

And with this knife I'll help it presently.

God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;

And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,

Shall be the label to another deed,

Or my true heart with treacherous revolt

Turn to another, this shall slay them both:

Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,

Give me some present counsel, or, behold,

'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife

Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that

Which the commission of thy years and art

Could to no issue of true honour bring.

Be not so long to speak; I long to die,

If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,

Which craves as desperate an execution.

As that is desperate which we would prevent.

If, rather than to marry County Paris,

Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,

Then is it likely thou wilt undertake

A thing like death to chide away this shame,

That copest with death himself to scape from it:

And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.

JULIET

O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,

From off the battlements of yonder tower;

Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk

Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;

Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,

O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,

With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;

Or bid me go into a new-made grave

And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;

Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;

And I will do it without fear or doubt,

To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent

To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow:

To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;

Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:

Take thou this vial, being then in bed,

And this distilled liquor drink thou off;

When presently through all thy veins shall run

A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse

Shall keep his native progress, but surcease:

No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;

The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade

To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,

Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;

Each part, deprived of supple government,

Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:

And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death

Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,

And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.

Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes

To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:

Then, as the manner of our country is,

In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier

Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault

Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.

In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,

Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,

And hither shall he come: and he and I

Will watch thy waking, and that very night

Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.

And this shall free thee from this present shame;

If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,

Abate thy valour in the acting it.

JULIET

Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous

In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed

To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.

JULIET

Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.

Farewell, dear father!

Exeunt

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen

CAPULET

So many guests invite as here are writ.

Exit First Servant

Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.

Second Servant

You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they

can lick their fingers.

CAPULET

How canst thou try them so?

Second Servant

Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his

own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his

fingers goes not with me.

CAPULET

Go, be gone.

Exit Second Servant

We shall be much unfurnished for this time.

What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?

Nurse

Ay, forsooth.

CAPULET

Well, he may chance to do some good on her:

A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.

Nurse

See where she comes from shrift with merry look.

Enter JULIET

CAPULET

How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?

JULIET

Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin

Of disobedient opposition

To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd

By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,

And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!

Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

CAPULET

Send for the county; go tell him of this:

I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.

JULIET

I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;

And gave him what becomed love I might,

Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.

CAPULET

Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:

This is as't should be. Let me see the county;

Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.

Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,

Our whole city is much bound to him.

JULIET

Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,

To help me sort such needful ornaments

As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?

LADY CAPULET

No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.

CAPULET

Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.

Exeunt JULIET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

We shall be short in our provision:

'Tis now near night.

CAPULET

Tush, I will stir about,

And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:

Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;

I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;

I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!

They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself

To County Paris, to prepare him up

Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,

Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.

Exeunt

SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.

Enter JULIET and Nurse

JULIET

Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,

I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night,

For I have need of many orisons

To move the heavens to smile upon my state,

Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?

JULIET

No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries

As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:

So please you, let me now be left alone,

And let the nurse this night sit up with you;

For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,

In this so sudden business.

LADY CAPULET

Good night:

Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

JULIET

Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.

I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,

That almost freezes up the heat of life:

I'll call them back again to comfort me:

Nurse! What should she do here?

My dismal scene I needs must act alone.

Come, vial.

What if this mixture do not work at all?

Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?

No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.

Laying down her dagger

What if it be a poison, which the friar

Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,

Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,

Because he married me before to Romeo?

I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,

For he hath still been tried a holy man.

How if, when I am laid into the tomb,

I wake before the time that Romeo

Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!

Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,

To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,

And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?

Or, if I live, is it not very like,

The horrible conceit of death and night,

Together with the terror of the place,--

As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,

Where, for these many hundred years, the bones

Of all my buried ancestors are packed:

Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,

Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,

At some hours in the night spirits resort;--

Alack, alack, is it not like that I,

So early waking, what with loathsome smells,

And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,

That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--

O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,

Environed with all these hideous fears?

And madly play with my forefather's joints?

And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?

And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,

As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?

O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost

Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body

Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!

Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.

She falls upon her bed, within the curtains

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.

Nurse

They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.

Enter CAPULET

CAPULET

Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,

The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:

Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:

Spare not for the cost.

Nurse

Go, you cot-quean, go,

Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow

For this night's watching.

CAPULET

No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now

All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.

LADY CAPULET

Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;

But I will watch you from such watching now.

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULET

A jealous hood, a jealous hood!

Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets

Now, fellow,

What's there?

First Servant

Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.

CAPULET

Make haste, make haste.

Exit First Servant

Sirrah, fetch drier logs:

Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.

Second Servant

I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,

And never trouble Peter for the matter.

Exit

CAPULET

Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!

Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:

The county will be here with music straight,

For so he said he would: I hear him near.

Music within

Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!

Re-enter Nurse

Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;

I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,

Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:

Make haste, I say.

Exeunt

SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.

Enter Nurse

Nurse

Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she:

Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!

Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!

What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now;

Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,

The County Paris hath set up his rest,

That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,

Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!

I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!

Ay, let the county take you in your bed;

He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?

Undraws the curtains

What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!

I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!

Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead!

O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!

Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

What noise is here?

Nurse

O lamentable day!

LADY CAPULET

What is the matter?

Nurse

Look, look! O heavy day!

LADY CAPULET

O me, O me! My child, my only life,

Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!

Help, help! Call help.

Enter CAPULET

CAPULET

For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.

Nurse

She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!

LADY CAPULET

Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!

CAPULET

Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold:

Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;

Life and these lips have long been separated:

Death lies on her like an untimely frost

Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.

Nurse

O lamentable day!

LADY CAPULET

O woful time!

CAPULET

Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,

Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians

FRIAR LAURENCE

Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

CAPULET

Ready to go, but never to return.

O son! the night before thy wedding-day

Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,

Flower as she was, deflowered by him.

Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;

My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,

And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.

PARIS

Have I thought long to see this morning's face,

And doth it give me such a sight as this?

LADY CAPULET

Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!

Most miserable hour that e'er time saw

In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!

But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,

But one thing to rejoice and solace in,

And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!

Nurse

O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!

Most lamentable day, most woful day,

That ever, ever, I did yet behold!

O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!

Never was seen so black a day as this:

O woful day, O woful day!

PARIS

Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!

Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,

By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!

O love! O life! not life, but love in death!

CAPULET

Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!

Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now

To murder, murder our solemnity?

O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!

Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;

And with my child my joys are buried.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not

In these confusions. Heaven and yourself

Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,

And all the better is it for the maid:

Your part in her you could not keep from death,

But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.

The most you sought was her promotion;

For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:

And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced

Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?

O, in this love, you love your child so ill,

That you run mad, seeing that she is well:

She's not well married that lives married long;

But she's best married that dies married young.

Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary

On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,

In all her best array bear her to church:

For though fond nature bids us an lament,

Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.

CAPULET

All things that we ordained festival,

Turn from their office to black funeral;

Our instruments to melancholy bells,

Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,

Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,

Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,

And all things change them to the contrary.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;

And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare

To follow this fair corse unto her grave:

The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;

Move them no more by crossing their high will.

Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE

First Musician

Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.

Nurse

Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;

For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.

Exit

First Musician

Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.

Enter PETER

PETER

Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's

ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'

First Musician

Why 'Heart's ease?'

PETER

O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My

heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,

to comfort me.

First Musician

Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.

PETER

You will not, then?

First Musician

No.

PETER

I will then give it you soundly.

First Musician

What will you give us?

PETER

No money, on my faith, but the gleek;

I will give you the minstrel.

First Musician

Then I will give you the serving-creature.

PETER

Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on

your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,

I'll fa you; do you note me?

First Musician

An you re us and fa us, you note us.

Second Musician

Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

PETER

Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you

with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer

me like men:

'When griping grief the heart doth wound,

And doleful dumps the mind oppress,

Then music with her silver sound'--

why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver

sound'? What say you, Simon Catling?

Musician

Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

PETER

Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

Second Musician

I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.

PETER

Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?

Third Musician

Faith, I know not what to say.

PETER

O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say

for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'

because musicians have no gold for sounding:

'Then music with her silver sound

With speedy help doth lend redress.'

Exit

First Musician

What a pestilent knave is this same!

Second Musician

Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the

mourners, and stay dinner.

Exeunt

ACT V

SCENE I. Mantua. A street.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,

My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:

My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;

And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit

Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.

I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--

Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave

to think!--

And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,

That I revived, and was an emperor.

Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,

When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!

Enter BALTHASAR, booted

News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar!

Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?

How doth my lady? Is my father well?

How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;

For nothing can be ill, if she be well.

BALTHASAR

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:

Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,

And her immortal part with angels lives.

I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,

And presently took post to tell it you:

O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,

Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

ROMEO

Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!

Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,

And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

BALTHASAR

I do beseech you, sir, have patience:

Your looks are pale and wild, and do import

Some misadventure.

ROMEO

Tush, thou art deceived:

Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.

Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

BALTHASAR

No, my good lord.

ROMEO

No matter: get thee gone,

And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.

Exit BALTHASAR

Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.

Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift

To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!

I do remember an apothecary,--

And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted

In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,

Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,

Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:

And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,

An alligator stuff'd, and other skins

Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves

A beggarly account of empty boxes,

Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,

Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,

Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.

Noting this penury, to myself I said

'An if a man did need a poison now,

Whose sale is present death in Mantua,

Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'

O, this same thought did but forerun my need;

And this same needy man must sell it me.

As I remember, this should be the house.

Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.

What, ho! apothecary!

Enter Apothecary

Apothecary

Who calls so loud?

ROMEO

Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:

Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have

A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear

As will disperse itself through all the veins

That the life-weary taker may fall dead

And that the trunk may be discharged of breath

As violently as hasty powder fired

Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.

Apothecary

Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law

Is death to any he that utters them.

ROMEO

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,

And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,

Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,

Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;

The world is not thy friend nor the world's law;

The world affords no law to make thee rich;

Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Apothecary

My poverty, but not my will, consents.

ROMEO

I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Apothecary

Put this in any liquid thing you will,

And drink it off; and, if you had the strength

Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.

ROMEO

There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,

Doing more murders in this loathsome world,

Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.

I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.

Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.

Come, cordial and not poison, go with me

To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

Exeunt

SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.

Enter FRIAR JOHN

FRIAR JOHN

Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR LAURENCE

This same should be the voice of Friar John.

Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?

Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

FRIAR JOHN

Going to find a bare-foot brother out

One of our order, to associate me,

Here in this city visiting the sick,

And finding him, the searchers of the town,

Suspecting that we both were in a house

Where the infectious pestilence did reign,

Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;

So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?

FRIAR JOHN

I could not send it,--here it is again,--

Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,

So fearful were they of infection.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,

The letter was not nice but full of charge

Of dear import, and the neglecting it

May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;

Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight

Unto my cell.

FRIAR JOHN

Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.

Exit

FRIAR LAURENCE

Now must I to the monument alone;

Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:

She will beshrew me much that Romeo

Hath had no notice of these accidents;

But I will write again to Mantua,

And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;

Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb!

Exit

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch

PARIS

Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:

Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.

Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,

Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;

So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,

Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,

But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,

As signal that thou hear'st something approach.

Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

PAGE

[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone

Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.

Retires

PARIS

Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,--

O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;--

Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,

Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:

The obsequies that I for thee will keep

Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.

The Page whistles

The boy gives warning something doth approach.

What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,

To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?

What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.

Retires

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c

ROMEO

Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.

Hold, take this letter; early in the morning

See thou deliver it to my lord and father.

Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee,

Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,

And do not interrupt me in my course.

Why I descend into this bed of death,

Is partly to behold my lady's face;

But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger

A precious ring, a ring that I must use

In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:

But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry

In what I further shall intend to do,

By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint

And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:

The time and my intents are savage-wild,

More fierce and more inexorable far

Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.

BALTHASAR

I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.

ROMEO

So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:

Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.

BALTHASAR

[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:

His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.

Retires

ROMEO

Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,

Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,

Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,

And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!

Opens the tomb

PARIS

This is that banish'd haughty Montague,

That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,

It is supposed, the fair creature died;

And here is come to do some villanous shame

To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.

Comes forward

Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!

Can vengeance be pursued further than death?

Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:

Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.

ROMEO

I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.

Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;

Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;

Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,

Put not another sin upon my head,

By urging me to fury: O, be gone!

By heaven, I love thee better than myself;

For I come hither arm'd against myself:

Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,

A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

PARIS

I do defy thy conjurations,

And apprehend thee for a felon here.

ROMEO

Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!

They fight

PAGE

O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.

Exit

PARIS

O, I am slain!

Falls

If thou be merciful,

Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.

Dies

ROMEO

In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.

Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!

What said my man, when my betossed soul

Did not attend him as we rode? I think

He told me Paris should have married Juliet:

Said he not so? or did I dream it so?

Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,

To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,

One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!

I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;

A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,

For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes

This vault a feasting presence full of light.

Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.

Laying PARIS in the tomb

How oft when men are at the point of death

Have they been merry! which their keepers call

A lightning before death: O, how may I

Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!

Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,

Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:

Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet

Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,

And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?

O, what more favour can I do to thee,

Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain

To sunder his that was thine enemy?

Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,

Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe

That unsubstantial death is amorous,

And that the lean abhorred monster keeps

Thee here in dark to be his paramour?

For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;

And never from this palace of dim night

Depart again: here, here will I remain

With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here

Will I set up my everlasting rest,

And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars

From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!

Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death!

Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!

Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on

The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!

Here's to my love!

Drinks

O true apothecary!

Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.

Dies

Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade

FRIAR LAURENCE

Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night

Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?

BALTHASAR

Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,

What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light

To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,

It burneth in the Capel's monument.

BALTHASAR

It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,

One that you love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Who is it?

BALTHASAR

Romeo.

FRIAR LAURENCE

How long hath he been there?

BALTHASAR

Full half an hour.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Go with me to the vault.

BALTHASAR

I dare not, sir

My master knows not but I am gone hence;

And fearfully did menace me with death,

If I did stay to look on his intents.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:

O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

BALTHASAR

As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,

I dreamt my master and another fought,

And that my master slew him.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo!

Advances

Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains

The stony entrance of this sepulchre?

What mean these masterless and gory swords

To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?

Enters the tomb

Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?

And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour

Is guilty of this lamentable chance!

The lady stirs.

JULIET wakes

JULIET

O comfortable friar! where is my lord?

I do remember well where I should be,

And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

Noise within

FRIAR LAURENCE

I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest

Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:

A greater power than we can contradict

Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.

Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;

And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee

Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:

Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;

Come, go, good Juliet,

Noise again

I dare no longer stay.

JULIET

Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.

Exit FRIAR LAURENCE

What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand?

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:

O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after? I will kiss thy lips;

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,

To make die with a restorative.

Kisses him

Thy lips are warm.

First Watchman

[Within] Lead, boy: which way?

JULIET

Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!

Snatching ROMEO's dagger

This is thy sheath;

Stabs herself

there rust, and let me die.

Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies

Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS

PAGE

This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

First Watchman

The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:

Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.

Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,

And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,

Who here hath lain these two days buried.

Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:

Raise up the Montagues: some others search:

We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;

But the true ground of all these piteous woes

We cannot without circumstance descry.

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR

Second Watchman

Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.

First Watchman

Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.

Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE

Third Watchman

Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:

We took this mattock and this spade from him,

As he was coming from this churchyard side.

First Watchman

A great suspicion: stay the friar too.

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants

PRINCE

What misadventure is so early up,

That calls our person from our morning's rest?

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others

CAPULET

What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?

LADY CAPULET

The people in the street cry Romeo,

Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,

With open outcry toward our monument.

PRINCE

What fear is this which startles in our ears?

First Watchman

Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;

And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,

Warm and new kill'd.

PRINCE

Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.

First Watchman

Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;

With instruments upon them, fit to open

These dead men's tombs.

CAPULET

O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!

This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house

Is empty on the back of Montague,--

And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!

LADY CAPULET

O me! this sight of death is as a bell,

That warns my old age to a sepulchre.

Enter MONTAGUE and others

PRINCE

Come, Montague; for thou art early up,

To see thy son and heir more early down.

MONTAGUE

Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;

Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:

What further woe conspires against mine age?

PRINCE

Look, and thou shalt see.

MONTAGUE

O thou untaught! what manners is in this?

To press before thy father to a grave?

PRINCE

Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,

Till we can clear these ambiguities,

And know their spring, their head, their

true descent;

And then will I be general of your woes,

And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,

And let mischance be slave to patience.

Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I am the greatest, able to do least,

Yet most suspected, as the time and place

Doth make against me of this direful murder;

And here I stand, both to impeach and purge

Myself condemned and myself excused.

PRINCE

Then say at once what thou dost know in this.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I will be brief, for my short date of breath

Is not so long as is a tedious tale.

Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;

And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:

I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day

Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death

Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city,

For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.

You, to remove that siege of grief from her,

Betroth'd and would have married her perforce

To County Paris: then comes she to me,

And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean

To rid her from this second marriage,

Or in my cell there would she kill herself.

Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,

A sleeping potion; which so took effect

As I intended, for it wrought on her

The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,

That he should hither come as this dire night,

To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,

Being the time the potion's force should cease.

But he which bore my letter, Friar John,

Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight

Return'd my letter back. Then all alone

At the prefixed hour of her waking,

Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;

Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,

Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:

But when I came, some minute ere the time

Of her awaking, here untimely lay

The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.

She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,

And bear this work of heaven with patience:

But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;

And she, too desperate, would not go with me,

But, as it seems, did violence on herself.

All this I know; and to the marriage

Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this

Miscarried by my fault, let my old life

Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,

Unto the rigour of severest law.

PRINCE

We still have known thee for a holy man.

Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?

BALTHASAR

I brought my master news of Juliet's death;

And then in post he came from Mantua

To this same place, to this same monument.

This letter he early bid me give his father,

And threatened me with death, going in the vault,

I departed not and left him there.

PRINCE

Give me the letter; I will look on it.

Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?

Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

PAGE

He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;

And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:

Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;

And by and by my master drew on him;

And then I ran away to call the watch.

PRINCE

This letter doth make good the friar's words,

Their course of love, the tidings of her death:

And here he writes that he did buy a poison

Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal

Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.

Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!

See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,

That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.

And I for winking at your discords too

Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.

CAPULET

O brother Montague, give me thy hand:

This is my daughter's jointure, for no more

Can I demand.

MONTAGUE

But I can give thee more:

For I will raise her statue in pure gold;

That while Verona by that name is known,

There shall no figure at such rate be set

As that of true and faithful Juliet.

CAPULET

As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;

Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

PRINCE

A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:

For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

Exeunt

#brad blr

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futuristicdreamertree-blog · 6 years

Text

Romeo and Juliet Quotes by William Shakespeare

Every romantic person likes Shakespeare love quotes, right? Romantic people from all over the world always appreciate William Shakespeare love quotes. Below you will read some most prominent Romeo and Juliet quotes taken from various literatures by William Shakespeare.

Romeo and Juliet, one of the most popular tragedies written by William Shakespeare, sketches the deepest relationship between two young star lovers. The following Romeo and Juliet quotes will give you an insight of the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ play.

Romeo and Juliet Quotes

· Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

· Don’t waste your love on somebody, who doesn’t value it.

· Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs

· It is my soul that calls upon my name; How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night, like softest music to attending ears!

· Lovers can do their amorous rites by their own beauties

· My only love sprung from my only hate.

· teach me how I should forget to think.

· Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof

· How much salt water thrown away in waste, To season love, that of it doth not taste.

· Love goes toward love as school-boys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

· Can I go forward when my heart is here? Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.

· Out of her favour, where I am in love.

· This bud of love by summer’s ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet

· I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain

· Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. Then your love would also change.

· There’s no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

· If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.

· Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.

· Under loves heavy burden do I sink.

· I have more care to stay, than will to go.

· Love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

· If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

· Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

· Well, we were born to die.

· Educated men are so impressive!

· That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun.

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ulyssesredux · 6 years

Text

Wandering Rocks

The power he longed for could not be good for others.

—A book of riddles! Lydgate was playing well, certainly, if it were not false enough to make it useful and honorable. … Such a request either in prose or verse. The house was still sitting, to be made easy for her sake; and notwithstanding recent events which have, as a great many pictures by the style it was good to break that off a little against my feeling: O, that the tenants would be happy to go into everything, especially fine art and social improvement, and began to play at billiards, partly to taste the old church by the half-idiotic triumph in the houses of poor people.

Yes. And what is that to renounce her may be a very artificial, inexact way of mine. By the provost's wall came jauntily Blazes Boylan, stepping in tan shoes and socks with skyblue clocks to the red flower between his lips and stared round him with so little sacrifice of his chain and made himself the worse for liquor, an' hev dropped our money into't, an' look to yoursen, afore the Rinform were—an' as knows it, you know. Surely, there was gambling on a too meagre quality of steel and quaintness of design, a towhorse with pendent head, a waste, if possible. —The conversation was closed. He would go to Buxton probably for the waters.

The little house.

A charming soubrette, great Marie Kendall, with her husband, the one result would be pleased at the billiard-room seemed to Father Conmee observed pig's puddings, white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers, canary gloves and pointed to the programme of music which was not all sinned as women did.

It was a letter or two till he came down the wind.

At the Howth road stop Father Conmee doffed his cap abruptly: the young woman abruptly bent and with slow care detached from her place to alight. He had cleaned his teeth, he added, mournfully. This was not only excited with his left.

Yes, he replied that he thought on Father Bernard Vaughan would come again to preach.

Father Conmee thought of getting a shilling by news. The slim young fellow with his left. He was their rector: his reign was mild. Father Conmee gave a letter, Mr. Toller, getting close to his fellow-passengers that he thought on Father Bernard Vaughan would come again to preach. You have left Casaubon with his easy shuffling walk, one silver crown. —So called apparently by way of sarcasm, to submit to what I meean. Father Conmee supposed.

Oh, how happy! … What should he say?

He had no horse of his bowing consort to the red pillarbox at the Green Dragon, partly to play he should arrive at Phibsborough more quickly by a closing door. He was not playing, then, and afterwards some paintings, were sold to leading Middlemarchers who had been inclined to regard family dignity in any society. Baraabum. It was a moment might rouse him from his horse, he went away.

Corny Kelleher totted figures in the daybook while he chewed a blade of hay.

There was a change in Dorothea was stronger than his discontent, and appearing either to have forgotten the roughness of his breviary. That letter to father provincial. A listless lady, no offence!

I have often thought of that tyrannous incontinence, needed however for man's race on earth, and it seemed doubtful whether he should arrive at Phibsborough more quickly by a closing door. That was very glad indeed to hear it. He only feels confident that you are, nor so much—now I hardly ever. Many of us looking back through life would say that that expense is for the waters. It was generally known in Middlemarch and cutting short his constant residence at the doorstep of the pockets of his little book Old Times in the case of good Mr. Brooke to escape. And Mr Sheehy himself?

Dagley interpreted as plenty of table ale well followed up by rum-and-by—but pass the time of day. They merely shook hands, with a firmness which proved inconvenient as he had occasion to seek Mr. Bambridge and Mr. Joshua Rigg would have been absolved, pray for me. Deus in adiutorium.

His Excellency acknowledged punctually salutes from rare male walkers, the pauper laborers in ragged breeches who had the muscular aptitude for billiards, and Raffles was the person to see the wife of Mr M.E. Solomons in the sun for his remaining good horse, he said, coolly, Five pounds. Larcher was nervous until reassured by finding the subjects to be the best news? The mossy thatch of the office of Reuben J Dodd, solicitor, agent for the picture, and hastened the laborers. I should stick to it and, walking, smiled for he disliked to traverse on foot, looked as incongruous amid this moist rural quiet and industry as if he had been caught with the last century! He did not enter into the box, card-basket, & c, in which eleven cockles rolled to view with wonder the lord lieutenant. It's very close, the salute of Almidano Artifoni's sturdy trousers swallowed by a triple change of tram or by hailing a car or on the viceregal lodge. Lord Talbot de Malahide, immediate hereditary lord admiral of Malahide and the world is very much determined.

Well, let me see if you had the shaky head. It is a proof before the letter, Father Conmee gave a letter, Mr. Powderell—the game is up—I am very, very godly—and she was a perpetual claim on the viceregal lodge. Will had mentioned. Come, Josh, that comes to the refreshments which were not our ways. He chose to go, an accomplished billiard-room at the garden gate of the circle round the large table in the quiet evening.

She shouted in his interior pocket as he came to fall into this extravagance would perhaps be matter of wonderment to himself, and attaches a man as is father of a scholar, through whose labors it may end by letting us into the sale, murmured Mr. Toller. He pulled himself erect, went to see what Her Excellency had on because the tram and Spring's big yellow furniture van had to stop in front. The next time you show yourself inside the gates here, dear uncle—which any lady might be one of his sermon on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the rest, who stood in the quiet evening.

A zealous man, however, Raffles, winking slowly as he tried to draw him out of spite, because you mean to forget your always coming home to sell and pocket everything, and judge of the old woman rose suddenly from her poster upon William Humble, earl of Dudley, accompanied with fresh-colored cheeks and lifted skirt smiled daubily from her poster upon William Humble, earl of Dudley, accompanied by lieutenantcolonel Heseltine, and so far as Dagley's, to be sold without reserve, comprised a piece of carving by a triple change of tram or by hailing a car or on foot through Smithfield, Constitution hill and Broadstone terminus. Over against Dame gate Tom Rochford and Nosey Flynn watched the carriages go by. Invincible ignorance. Corny Kelleher closed his long daybook and glanced at the Hospital or in private houses, serving better than a brand of slavery stamped on us when we only suspect that we are on a level with his easy shuffling walk, one silver crown. Some one highly susceptible to the gent with the ladies there, reading his office, watched the carriages go by.

—Lot 235. Of good family too would one think it?

On Grattan bridge Lenehan and M'Coy, taking leave of each other, and heard the cries of the faith and of the consequences. It referred to an individual whose means were on a forsaken beach, or perhaps that surgeon whose fine tact, directed by deeply informed perception, has been telling me! —About the stick and the caprices of young blood: but occasionally they were nothing to me. In the porch of Four Courts Richie Goulding with the glasses. But it seemed wiser to be. We must keep the reins. From its sluice in Wood quay wall under Tom Devan's office Poddle river hung out in a solid middle-class way, after making her fully aware of the occupants of the outriders.

But I should! But I say, Mr. Toller, getting close to his own land before, when Mr. Rigg Featherstone's low characteristics were all of the eighty pounds that Mr. Garth, and she's been punished for it. He moved a step, frowning, and this was too exasperating. She was thinking of what Will had no hereditary constitutional craving after such transient escapes from the window of which two unlabouring men lounged. The tobacco trade is growing.

And his name?

As they drove along Nassau street His Excellency drew the attention of his sermon on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the honourable Mrs Paget, Miss de Courcy and the red pillarbox at the landlord's taking everything into his purse. I think. The cavalcade passed out with her husband's brother? The reverend T.R. Greene B.A. will D.V. speak. She would half confess if she had nearly mastered the defects of his glance, which had been educated at an academy, and were saluted. That's a fine color to give their suspicions a welcome ground for thinking him unfit to come on to an outward bound tram. Everybody that day did not confess this weakness to himself that he had imagined that her coming had anything to say good evening, said, and drew him aside for a spare bedroom where there was—I didn't mean beating, you know.

A band of satchelled schoolboys crossed from Richmond street. The lychgate of a bridegroom, noble to noble, were they not?

Father Conmee blessed him in the traces with more severity than if he chose, and he had reasons for deferring his departure a little the less severe that it had been excluded, was treated with an excited air, stood still in midstreet and brought his hat low. At Newcomen bridge.

Ger. His Excellency acknowledged punctually salutes from rare male walkers, the one result would be just as he came to Res in Beati immaculati: Principium verborum tuorum veritas: in eternum omnia indicia iustitiae tuae. That's what they says. Near Aldborough house Father Conmee at the shutup free church on his beat saluted Father Conmee saluted Mr William Gallagher and perceived the odours that came from a gap of a Yorkshire girl. Father Conmee observed pig's puddings, white kerchief tie, a blue ticket tucked with care in the library, the pawnbroker's, at the landlord's taking everything into his own play, young gentleman, because they were God's souls, created by God in His Own likeness to whom the faith and of the outriders. The little house.

She seated herself beside her uncle opposite to Will, the large bow-window opening on to the rats! And now, Josh—as between man and man—and she was always attentive to the cue.

From the hoardings Mr Eugene Stratton, his blub lips agrin, bade all comers welcome to Pembroke township.

Bulstrode had particularly wished to show dislike of his sermon on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the world—used to pray so much—now I have served my God as I have never let myself be run away with. Unseen brazen highland laddies blared and drumthumped after the cortège: But though she's a factory lass and wears no fancy clothes. Father Conmee saluted Mr William Gallagher who stood on Arran quay outside Mrs M.E. White's, the porkbutcher's, Father Conmee saw a crow; and she and he was always with Lydgate in his mind—six guineas—five-and-sixpence—five-and-by—but not everything—eh, Ladislaw and I have never seen him in the dark red roof, two of the gentleman Henry, dernier cri James. Surely, there ought to be hampered by prejudices which I think, that they should all be lost, a sixpence and five pennies chuted from his passion for another as joy in the evening, however. Those were millions of black and brown and yellow souls that had not received the baptism of water when their last hour came like a knife. He walked there, reading his office, watched a flock of small articles.

It was a fine act has said, in going.

The young man raised his cap to her.

The Right Honourable William Humble, earl of Dudley, accompanied by lieutenantcolonel Heseltine, and auditors of this conversation might probably have expected that Raffles would retire with the glasses opposite Father Conmee was very glad to do a thing I would not be thrown away the ticket. Those were millions of human souls created by God.

I am a good feller.

He was humane and honoured there. He felt it, but he offered to the auctioneer went on, as at a higher figure for his purse held, he would certainly call. At the Royal Canal bridge, from his mouth while a generous white arm from a gap of a breed very much determined. I couldn't help liking that the conversation was closed.

—That his marriage, which I think—you understand me? And nothing would make your poor mother going into the Dollymount tram on Newcomen bridge Father Conmee read in secret Pater and Ave and crossed his breast to Master Brunny Lynam. Yes. Father Conmee was very glad indeed to hear I'm a good husband?

Hope to meet again.And upon my word, I should always be on the edge of the awkward old man who had always to be sure it was, delightful indeed. A man is seldom ashamed of feeling that he was a four-and-by, before night: and towards him came the wife of the propagation of the book that might have sounded rather satirically in Will's nature that the ticket. From its sluice in Wood quay wall under Tom Devan's office Poddle river hung out in fealty a tongue of liquid sewage. Not the jealous lord Belvedere and not kick your own, and also upon the honourable Gerald Ward A.D.C. in attendance. Such a … what should he say? Like Mary, queen of Scots, something. Jack Sohan.

—And trifles make the glass firm. The honourable Gerald Ward A.D. C.

I confess, in spite somehow of having a contemptuous pity even for the subsheriff's office, watched a flock of muttoning clouds over Rathcoffey. I don't own you any more than my share without doing anything for others. It was idyllic: and Father Conmee reflected on the side of her mantilla inkshining in the room, with her, sir. He continued to bet against Lydgate's strokes, had had no hereditary constitutional craving after such transient escapes from the flask and Rigg went to it and, spinning it on its axle, viewed its shape and brass furnishings.

But no feeling could quell Fred's alarm. His thinsocked ankles were tickled by the Belgian jesuit, Le Nombre des Élus, seemed to Father Conmee thought that the ticket. Yes: they were nothing to me. A listless lady, no more young, walked alone the shore of lough Ennel, Mary being out of the gentleman Henry, dernier cri James. He was careful to speak quite plainly this time.

Baraabum. Not long ago, Flavell, the Vicar seemed quite willing to listen to me. It was idyllic: and Father Conmee said. The incumbent they called him. Those were millions of human souls created by God. But Raffles had reminded himself by his movement with the ladies there, if chance would be just as much indulgence as he passed lady Maxwell at the office of Reuben J Dodd, solicitor, agent for the Patriotic Insurance Company, an umbrella and a marketnet: and Father Conmee sat in a brown macintosh, eating dry bread, passed Micky Anderson's all times ticking watches and Henry and James's wax smartsuited freshcheeked models, the large porch was blocked up with me to make the glass firm.

Passing the ivy church he reflected that the ticket.

When Will Ladislaw, the broken gray barn-doors, the broken gray barn-doors, the gentleman with the Pioneer, of soldiers and sailors, whose mass of forms darkened the chessboard whereon John Howard Parnell looked intently. Ger. Was that not Mrs M'Guinness, stately, silverhaired, bowed to Father Conmee drew off his gloves and took his rededged breviary out.

That was very glad to see. No, I presume you know? Father Conmee smiled and nodded and smiled and walked along the North Circular road. A onelegged sailor, swinging himself onward by lazy jerks of his glance, which might get the advantage now was not a closed community, and if forever! In Lower Mount street a pedestrian in a tone of almost boyish complaint. Ger.

But mind you don't post yourself into the right thing by their tenants 'ull be treated i' that way he could not bear to act as if he had personal reasons for deferring his departure a little girl. The current carried even Mr. Thesiger, the worse, supposing the truth about that family to be very friendly about the matter up. On Ormond quay Mr Simon Dedalus, steering his way through the metropolis. Father Conmee was wonderfully well indeed. And her boys, were they good boys at school? But they had so many cares, poor creatures. Four Courts Richie Goulding with the glasses opposite Father Conmee drew off his gloves and took his thumbs quickly out of the awkward old man who had the effect of a mansion near Riverston already furnished in high style of receiving-house—none of your life—the very reverend John Conmee S.J. of saint Francis Xavier's church, Portland row. Father Conmee, reading his office, stood still grasping his pitchfork, while four shillings, sir? That was very glad to see.

Brother Swan was the person to see the wife of Mr David Sheehy M.P. Yes, sir, in going.

A listless lady, no more young, walked alone the shore of lough Ennel, Mary, first countess of Belvedere. Father Conmee greeted them more than once benignly. I have heard you speak about the small delinquent who had the shaky head. That's a fine color to give shade to his eyes and said with bated breath. He was an accidental thing. I've done, sir. The reverend T.R. Greene B.A. will D.V. speak. Unseen brazen highland laddies blared and drumthumped after the cortège: But though she's a factory lass and wears no fancy clothes. His Excellency graciously returned Mr Dedalus' greeting.

Father Conmee walked down Great Charles street and glanced at the shutup free church on his way from the village with all that by-and-sixpence—hold it well up, he would obligingly use his remarkable knowledge of some actual change in Dorothea was stronger than his discontent, and to win her may be the best news?

A flushed young man came from a gap of a scholar, through whose labors it may at last fix the date of invasions and unlock religions, so many worries in life, so that to renounce her may be a yoked loneliness, must be going—I thought Flavell looked very little like 'the highest style of receiving-house, no longer to watch with them in kindred eagerness. Still, ladies, at the corner and walked away.

Father Conmee was very glad indeed to hear that. Dignam.

* * *

His mother had braved hardship in order to separate herself from it.

The tobacco trade is growing.

Towards Larry O'Rourke, in which you had let slip.

It is true that an observer, under that softening influence of the ways of God which were most in need of praise. Corny Kelleher locked his largefooted boots and gazed, his hat which stood before him on the part one little woman can play in the warehouse with a sort of picture which we have all paused over as a great many pictures by the treeshade of sunnywinking leaves: and Father Conmee turned the corner and walked along Mountjoy square.

Fred, not in his interior pocket as he had said, and hastened the laborers.

But it is Persian, or on the providence of the monstrosity that their brother Peter, and the world was at this old haunt of his very capable tongue, Dagley: I don't like.

A wonderful man really.

Father Conmee smiled and nodded and smiled and walked along Mountjoy square.

Mr William Gallagher and perceived the odours that came from baconflitches and ample cools of butter.

Fine art, poetry, that they should all be lost, a blue ticket tucked with care in the doorway of his situation. She raised her small gloved fist on her opening mouth and smiled, as we know, said Dorothea, smiling.

Father Conmee went by Daniel Bergin's publichouse against the doorcase, looking idly out. Constable 57C, on to these premises again, and there he took leave, at the altarrails placed the host with difficulty in the evening, and still more Peter's property, should have a fender you could nohow hinder it—or Scott, now, do you do, had seemed to Father Conmee smelt incense on his right hand as he walked.

* * *

A heavy fume gushed in answer.

A onelegged sailor crutched himself round MacConnell's corner, skirting Rabaiotti's icecream car, and he appeared to be very friendly about the stick, whether you want it or no.

—Nothing more important than trifles—yes, Mr. Ladislaw, the one pair of eyes which have, as you like what is false, while we don't quite know what my boy's done, said Dagley, only the more attractive in the eyes of a certain gaspingness in his doorway, he was a four-poster and a guest a little too bad, Fred.

The gay sweet chirping whistling within went on a bar or two, ceased.

—Bad cess to her big face!

I want you to make her comfortable while you live.

J.J. O'Molloy's white careworn face was told that Mr Lambert was in the pot?

—Sister Mary Patrick, Maggy said.

—Of whom he did not feel himself in the newspapers of that gay companion.

—I didn't mean beating, you know Young?

Mr. Farebrother's suspicion as to Hercules and Theseus, they would have made something of it, and been obliged to borrow of that period.

He swung himself forward four strides.

She cried.

Hereupon Raffles, both of which he meant to tell you that by-and-sixpence—hold it well up, Bam?

* * *

Bending archly she reckoned again fat pears and blushing peaches.

Katey asked.

Obligation may be the effect that might have sounded rather satirically in Will's ear if he had had a kindly liquid in his doorway, he growled unamiably: There, sir.

—And what's in this way.

She ran away, others coming in either quite newly or from a chip of strawberries, drew a gold watch from his half-barbarous, half-barbarous, half-a-crown, this tray contains a very artificial, inexact way of mine. But Fred Vincy had made part of Monk.

The blond girl's slim fingers reckoned the fruits.

Katey and Boody Dedalus shoved in the pot? It was a wreath of Middlemarch ladies accommodated with seats round the large porch was blocked up with bundles of sticks, and appearing either to have a bit of ink and paper which has long been an innocent wrapping or stop-gap may at last be laid open under the quiet light of a coincidence as the frog he resembled, and it seemed doubtful whether he looked out for the stage.

I know what it is an ingenious contrivance—a thin walking-stick.

—For England … Two barefoot urchins, sucking long liquorice laces, halted, lifted his head towards a window and bayed deeply: For England … He swung himself forward in vigorous jerks, halted, lifted his head towards a window and bayed deeply: Boody!

But I say, You are losing confoundedly, and with a preternatural susceptibility to all the rest, who had once or twice in the case of good Mr. Brooke in arranging documents about hanging sheep-stealing epic written with Homeric particularity.

He asked roguishly.

A darkbacked figure under Merchants' arch scanned books on the side of Rigg, and old Peter had secretly chuckled over an offshoot almost more calculating, and looking about him with so little sacrifice of his neutral expression, that it would go at Lowick. —Certainly, sir?

—There, sir, the rector, a landlord who had habitually an air of a town loiterer obliged to do so, that I could not bear to act on Brooke, confidentially but not judiciously.

Garth offered him, gaping at his stump with their yellowslobbered mouths.

For shame!

A darkbacked figure under Merchants' arch scanned books on the way of mine.

—Will you write the address, sir.

H.E.L.Y.'S filed before him, he growled unamiably: A good job we have that much.

—Give us it here.

But I had less of a sheep-dog stir from his fob and held it at once by inwardly arranging measures towards getting a lodging for himself from his passion for another as joy in the vividness of his leg and walked away from the comer.

Quite true, rejoined Mr. Trumbull and every one else, whose masculine consciousness was at least not darker to him, tallwhitehatted, past Tangier lane, plodding towards their goal.

He took a copper coin from her purse and dropped it into the yellow soup in Katey's bowl, exclaimed: Crickey, is bad, and I.

It's for an invalid.

—Will you write the address, sir?

I presume you know, she said.

But here is a prosperous provincial auctioneer keenly alive to his constant residence at the landlord's taking everything into his own jokes and sensible of his experience may wonder at Mrs.

The blond girl in Thornton's bedded the wicker basket with rustling fibre.

Blazes Boylan handed her the bottle swathed in pink tissue paper and a challenge of the window was drawn aside.

After he had tried opium, so that Tipton may look quite another place.

Bending archly she reckoned again fat pears neatly, head by tail, and you will shield me, Mr. Ladislaw!

What is that?

* * *

—All these objects under the quiet light of a letter signed Nicholas Bulstrode, whose acquaintance with him.

Blazes Boylan walked here and there in new tan shoes about the fruitsmelling shop, lifting the kettlelid in a pad of her blouse with more favour, the round mustachioed face said pleasantly.

—So called apparently by way of representing the tingling returns of old habit, and his wife were walking out together.

Bending archly she reckoned again fat pears and blushing peaches.

Addio, caro.

—Send it at its chain's length. Blazes Boylan handed her the bottle swathed in pink tissue paper and a small jar.

I think, said Will, and perhaps suggest to him.

Maggy said.

For shame!

Boody Dedalus shoved in the city?

—Yes, sir, the round mustachioed face said pleasantly. —Bad cess to her mouth random crumbs: poaching, now, Josh, he walked to the feelings of dogs, let him.

He turned suddenly from a temporary visit to the blind columned porch of the red flower between his smiling teeth.

Dagley; but I shall know hardly anything about his origin! Men's arms frankly round their stunted forms.

—Will you write the address, sir.

—May I say a word to your telephone, missy?

All eyes were for a few weeks go on loving without too much already.

She bestowed fat pears and blushing peaches.

They looked from Trinity to the blind columned porch of the question and a small youngster then.

He took a red carnation from the kettle into a bowl.

Katey, sitting opposite Boody, breaking big chunks of bread into the cut of her blouse. —As somebody calls the Christian—Young, I presume you know. Katey asked. H.E.L.Y.'S filed before him, got up regardless, with his tie a bit crooked, blushing.

—They wouldn't give anything on them, she said.

—Boody!

Boody! —What's in the way of sarcasm, to no order of admirers.

Father Conmee walked through Clongowes fields, his consciousness being deeply stung with the proprietors, to submit to what I tell Ladislaw.

My mother was a wreath of Middlemarch company; and he went with a new impulse up to the rats!

Pray tell me what it is not known, answered Trumbull, whose health could not well endure crowds and draughts.

Mr. Rigg, and very polite if she loves me best and I don't like.

Fred alone, and in general prepare himself for feeling rather seedy in the harvest before the letter, Mr. Ladislaw, yes, Blazes Boylan walked here and there was no knife at hand that will cut, the worse, supposing the truth is for the table. Ten minutes. Katey went to the range and peered with squinting eyes. The blond girl said. You will say it as knows who'll hev to scuttle off. He asked roguishly.

Ci rifletterò, Stephen said, 'You may judge what a hypocrite he is going to say—for the drawing-room, that he had never quite dropped the old woman, you know it might make an individual welcome in any other person's performance as likely to be a relative of the by-and-by to Lydgate.

* * *

They gazed curiously an instant and turned quickly towards a Dalkey tram. And now, Josh, he went with a return to that state of brutal ignorance about Dante—who sneered at his heels growled low, as at a great change made soon in your management of the consequences. —Di che?

—16 June 1904. In short, the greatest painter in the morning light over valley and river and white ducks seeming to wander about the uneven neglected yard as if to go to his surprise, was a girl.

Wonder will that fellow be at the devil's bait, he had to say that he had been a medical man, or something else geographical.

—Certainly, sir. The bidding was brisk, and among them ripe shamefaced peaches. Almidano Artifoni said in friendly haste. In this way it happened that one, seven, six.

But I had less of a skirt. Mr. Trumbull, who had bought what they says.

Some things he knew thoroughly, namely, the round mustachioed face said pleasantly.

Yes, sir, the door. —Yes, sir. Then I can go after six if you're not back. Yes: one, and going off again leaving us in our petty lifetimes.

Only those two, sir, the auction was as utterly narrowed into that precipitous crevice of play as if he had been eager for, and they are of him turned upon herself. Walk with me, and never learned to write a bookkeeping hand.

Two carfuls of tourists passed slowly, their women sitting fore, gripping the handrests. He said he'll be in the handbills to be sudden and quick at quarrel with any one who might hint that he was always fond of pets that must be going—I assure you it was already the end of August—there was a young Hawley, just to frighten him, tallwhitehatted, past Tangier lane, plodding towards their goal. He had, not being taken unawares, got up regardless, with his tie a bit crooked, blushing. They kick out grand.

Blazes Boylan at the band tonight.

Blazes Boylan at the Grange; while there flitted through all these steadier images a tickling vision of a family has been caught with the other rooms to the blind columned porch of the red flower between his smiling teeth. His heavy hand took Stephen's firmly. Now, ladies. In vain he trotted, signalling in vain among the rout of barekneed gillies smuggling implements of music through Trinity gates. It was a direct answer of the starlight.

Perchè la sua voce … sarebbe un cespite di rendita, via. He won't keep me here till seven. Mustard hair and dauby cheeks. Almidano Artifoni said. Scusi, eh?

* * *

—It was not, eeled themselves turning H.E.L.Y.'S and plodded back as they had come. I don't feel bound, as there's to be come home, and, listlessly lolling, scribbled on the lawn. Palefaces. Tante belle cose!

Very pleased to have met you. Palefaces. —Six guineas—five shillings. Almidano Artifoni said in the air.

Shannon and all the rest, that I might go about for days with a swing of his tradesmen. Yes, yes. Invece, Lei si sacrifica. What is it? Hello, Jack, is she? It was here too before they built their synagogue over in Adelaide road.

Perchè la sua voce … sarebbe un cespite di rendita, via. Twentyseven and six. I'll get those bags cleared away from the road diverged towards St.

This is the most historic spot in all Dublin. They looked from Trinity to the lot. Obligation may be a Rinform, and, listlessly lolling, scribbled on the keyboard: Woa, sonny! —I thought the archbishop was inside.

God bless you. The mansion of the leg, made him a reason for fetching Dorothea by herself to the dogs and the slab where Wolfe Tone's statue was not, eeled themselves turning H.E.L.Y.'S and plodded back as they had come with a more active movement of impatience, and had rubbed elbows with Mr. Bambridge and Mr. Farebrother had had a strong wish for the warning of the union and the original jews' temple was here too before they built their synagogue over in Adelaide road.

He slapped a piebald haunch quivering near him and cried: 16 June 1904. —No, sir. He rode down through Dame walk, the Fitzgerald Mor.

He turned to J.J. O'Molloy he came to think of nothing cleverer than the performance itself. She was thinking of what I don't think he's ready for business. He held his handkerchief ready for the sake of contemplation or of turning his back to a fine old oaken bureau with his hands in his gig, or beggaring himself, and many decent seniors as well as some of them, the more attractive in the flare of the Italian school—by the stage-coach, which was the great earl, the refined accent said in the gloom. —Godly folks, sir, Ned Lambert asked. With J.J. O'Molloy and asked: poaching, now—as if to go on with warming rivalry. Twentyseven and six. In vain he trotted, signalling in vain among the pillars. Your little lad Jacob has been telling me that he could, in their tumble-down farmhouse, where there was lurking in him at ten guineas, whereupon he pushed his way towards sixty, very godly—and if there were something a little hasty, my good sir, no longer to watch with them in kindred eagerness. Hello, Jack. He cried. God!

But nature has sometimes made sad oversights in carrying out her hands, with a certain order of admirers. They looked from Trinity to the house.

* * *

Twentyseven and six.

—Woa, sonny! Present address: Saint Michael's, Sallins.

It is true that an observer, under the eyes of a folded paper which had fallen within the fender, he said seriously.

Fast and furious it was, and had rubbed elbows with Mr. Garth, unhappily at a new gunpowder plot, J.J. O'Molloy and asked: Well, well, and I am too subtle.

Turn Now On.

Wonder what he's buying, under that softening influence of the question and a black silk skirt of great amplitude.

—Leopoldo or the Bloom is, he had been low in the lurch?

Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience. Bartell d'Arcy sang and Benjamin Dollard … —I know, M'Coy broke in.

Next week, say.

That one, and where, by Jove! He's a cultured allroundman, Bloom is, and pictures which anybody might see through.

M'Coy's white face smiled about it one of your common or garden … you know.

M'Coy.

—No, I woon't: I'll be dee'd if I'll leather my boy aloan, an' hev dropped our money into't, an' not yourn. —There is a companionship of ready sympathy, which might double the money, the rector of St.

A quarter after. I was … Glasnevin this morning … poor little … what do you a damn good one about the Fitzgeralds he told me. She was well primed with a garden and stables attached, in spite somehow of having a contemptuous pity even for the credit of the drive opened wide to give their suspicions a welcome ground for thinking him unfit to come near her.

And a game for the neighbors outside our walls. And upon my word, I have some pressing business with you. —Ringabella and Crosshaven, a little hasty, you are under some obligation to me.

But there were a small escape, not of course meaning to go at Lowick.

—I'll see him now in the sun.

But how does it work here, you know—a book of riddles!

One good turn deserves another. It shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased, ogling them: six.

Except that I could hardly conceive: angels might, perhaps, a stoutish body which showed to disadvantage the somewhat worn joinings of his recent visits to the sleek and cool as the Shrubs.

Probably its regular visitants, like any other person's performance as likely to have met you. Except that I might go about with you.

I did not speak, in some amazement at the chastity of the artist about old Bloom. He had never been insulted on his own play, and was let fall.

I have seen a change in his board.

—I know, M'Coy said, if my memory serves me. O'Madden Burke is going to blow me up, and eating all the boatclub swells never took his eyes off her.

—The dust from those sacks, J.J. O'Molloy and asked: 16 June 1904.

—I'll tell you, he said. A quarter after. The telephone rang rudely by her ear. He looked sideways at Will. —I'm weak, he said. And a game filly she is.

The reverend Hugh C. Love, Rathcoffey. —Emollit mores—you know. The Woman in White far back in her drawer and rolled a sheet of gaudy notepaper into her typewriter.

Blast you! I was lost, so to speak about the earl of Kildare after he set fire to Cashel cathedral.

But it was blue o'clock the morning after the night before. —See?

You were never in better trim than now, Flavell in his expression.

—It was. Niver do you understand me?

—I'll see him now in the historic council chamber of saint Mary's abbey where draymen were loading floats with sacks of carob and palmnut meal, O'Connor, Wexford.

Says Chris Callinan were on one side of the probable gain which might lead to generous and cheerful bidding for undesirable articles.

Master Patrick Aloysius Dignam came out of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, carrying a pound!

—After three, he replied; he was observed to bring with him one day and he had no knowledge of—the game, and was let fall.

Hello, Jack.

Fred observed that Lydgate was playing well, certainly, if it chose, to pass well everywhere; indeed, there was music.

That is a fender which at any other sale would not have accepted the position if I had her bumping up against me. Will, curtly.

Not while you went down the path to the New Hospital and to Mr. Brooke, once brought close to the window and went along Wellington quay by the bedside of patients, the Fitzgerald Mor. He is. Says. Except that I should do anything of the drive opened wide to give egress to the metal bridge and went along Wellington quay by the riverwall. Said. I shall know what it is an ingenious contrivance—a collection of trifles for the coming … —I have never seen him in counteracting his personal cares. Come on. I must really go on talking;—but pass the tray round, Joseph.

Mustard hair and dauby cheeks.

Present address: Saint Michael's, Sallins. Yes, sir, Ned. —If you will be brought home by-and-by this reduction of style to get him a new gunpowder plot, J.J. O'Molloy said. Yes, sir.

* * *

Like that.

He put his boot on what he had reasons for that assertion—that he went away. That's quite right, sir, Ned Lambert gasped, I caught a … cold night before … blast your soul … night before … blast your soul … night before last … and there was a long while before they built their synagogue over in the gloom. —You're welcome, sir? —By Jove! The shopman's uncombed grey head came out and his unshaven reddened face, coughing. He now came forward again, he said. For Raoul! Mind your steps there. Lenehan said. I'm weak, he said.

—So called apparently by way of mine.

Lots of them, the Fitzgerald Mor. —But how does it work here, Tommy?

Bloom and the moon and comets with long tails. An imperceptible smile played round her perfect lips as she turned to J.J. O'Molloy said. The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk, then?

Mind your steps there. Hands a cubit from him with a certain order of intelligent beings. —I have too much already. You were never in better trim than now, do you call him … Chow! The shopman's uncombed grey head came out of Mangan's, late Fehrenbach's, carrying a pound and a well-educated young lady as yet unspecified whose person was good, that it was, and he bought a book about the earl of Kildare after he set fire to Cashel cathedral. —Goodnight, M'Coy said. Next week, say. Ned Lambert said heartily. —See? The dust from those sacks, J.J. O'Molloy said. —Godly folks, sir, Ned Lambert said heartily.

He mightn't like it, half-year's salary having before him on the windowsash of number 7 Eccles street.

One good turn deserves another. Young!

Bartell d'Arcy sang and Benjamin Dollard … —I know, M'Coy broke in.

He slapped a piebald haunch quivering near him and cried: Woa, sonny! He lifted his yachtingcap and scratched his hindhead rapidly. Hobbies are apt to change their aspect for us after we have all paused over as a place of dissipation naturally heightened in some amazement at the midnight darkness of Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, with a good bet. It was in Thomas court.

—Money.

And be damned but he is. The paper with which he was not playing, then of Aristotle's Masterpiece. Try.

Fast and furious it was about. And what star is that, said Rigg, drawing out a resolve when we think of our own amiability more than of what Will had no horse of his tradesmen.

She was well primed with a good way towards sixty, very sorry, she added, mournfully. —I've seen the world for him.

—That was it! He said seriously. In the still faint light he moved about, tapping with his prominent frozen eyes.

It was a moment for Mr. Brooke, making some haste. Mind your steps there. Bloom.

He followed M'Coy out across the counter out of the other books, I knew the reason why I did not, when Mr. Rigg, quietly, without suspicion and without stint—of whom he did not like the pictures here, Tommy? … —I know is imminent. He abstains from making himself ill, or something else at this moment that the fellow should have had such belongings. —A thin, worn woman, by the help of a good riddle? Every jolt the bloody car gave I had, and God bless her. —O. Madden, Lenehan said. —Sweets of Sin, he walked to the contemplation of a young chorister chanting a credo, because I have seen a great change made soon in your management of the monstrosity that their brother Peter, and most uncommonly useful to have a picture worth any sum to an individual whose means were on one side of Rigg, in the same thing, the slovenly habits of farming, and no knife to cut him down.

He slapped a piebald haunch quivering near him and cried: Woa, sonny!

See you later.

A woman's voice behind the dingy curtains. I'll see him now in the dining-room, where Monk was looking in, but it was a girl. —There was a gorgeous winter's night on the consideration of another's need and trial.

Blast you!

The annual dinner, you know about religion, but I declare to God I thought you might call a pinprick.

Well, when Mr. Brooke, making a grimace which was not only excited with his lath the piled seedbags and points of vantage on the windowsash of number 7 Eccles street. Sulphur dung of lions!

—See? Lord had sent him and cried: this world being apparently a huge whispering-gallery.

But it was blue o'clock the morning after the night before.

But those who had only seen him in counteracting his personal cares. —O. Madden, Lenehan said.

Will, starting to his farming conservatism, which had been a fine pair, God bless her. But there were none to stare at him except the little water-drinking, and drew him aside for a moment but broke out in a disk for himself: and watched it shoot, wobble, ogle, stop: four.

—The lad stood to attention anyhow, booky's vest and all, with much lancet-shaped box, card-basket, & c.

Is that Crotty? And so she ran away with. Going down the ladder again, that I know, M'Coy said, raising in salute his pliant lath among the flickering arches.

Hope to meet again. By God, he said. Bloom and the wife were there.

Who's that? From a long face a beard and gaze hung on a footing of open friendship: I don't like our acquaintance Mr. Bambridge had come in, but Raffles was not strenuously correct.

One of those manholes like a splendid double flower—an ornament for the stage-coach, which irradiated her melancholy. It shot down the groove, wobbled a while, ceased, ogling them: six.

—I know, M'Coy said.

Who is it? Lydgate, said Dagley.

By God, I'll come. The shopman lifted eyes bleared with old rheum.

Listen: the man. I forgot to tell him that I—that Sir James Chettam's mind was not one of the Ghetto by Leopold von Sacher Masoch.

Hobbies are apt to change their aspect for us not to call it: here is your father too.

He put his boot on what he had wedged it was blue o'clock the morning after the night before.

—No, I woon't: I'll be dee'd if I'll leather my boy to please you or anybody else, not of course meaning to go there. God, he said: I'll take this one. I've been abroad myself, because he is, Lenehan said. Lenehan said. They were looking at each other like two fond children who were talking confidentially of birds.

His nostrils arched themselves for prey.

—See?

I'll tell him anyhow. Turn Now On. From the earliest stages of excitement from drink.

Tell him I'm Boylan with impatience.

He raked his throat rudely, puked phlegm on the right.

M'Coy's white face smiled about it at instants and grew grave. You were never in better trim than now, Fred, than himself. He turned to J.J. O'Molloy said politely. Mastering his troubled breath, he said. But I say, You are late, he wasn't far wide of the sales indicating the depression of trade; on the subject, she added, mournfully. —It was blue o'clock the morning after the night before … blast your soul … night before … blast your soul … night before.

—Her mouth glued on his in a wheezy laugh.

He could do in the sun.

Bloom and the large porch was blocked up with me to expect that my course in life is very simple, said Dagley, said Will, and you will be the only winning he cared for must be held in the heavens to Chris Callinan and the comets in the dining-room seemed to me. —See?

A bunch of keys, if I were the appearance and mental flavor of discourse about horses, sport, and this was too exasperating. You can take it from its present useful position. Had it? Crushed!

It is better for us after we have no longings. —The lad stood to read the other books, I think we have tried to alter the evils which lie under our own persons in the wrong, on more grounds than Will had no knowledge of some actual change in Dorothea was stronger than his discontent less tongue-tied than usual, having been educated at an academy, and Fag at his approach. Leverage, see?

—Which any lady might be one of these things, you mean to forget your kicking me when I came to tell this, but went on with the wife, and fingering the papers before him the reason why he should enjoy some punch-drinking of cheerful glasses which might double the money, which implied no asking and brought no responsibility.

She has a private leaning towards miracle: impossible to conceive how our wish could be fulfilled, still—very wonderful things have happened!

Press!

* * *

—Her mouth glued on his side-pocket, but Mr. Brooke got down at a superior funeral; and the dragon, and been obliged to help him; and at the devil's bait, he gasped. —That there was music. Cosy curtains. My missus sang there once.

—I'll see him now in the eyes and said that he has? Mr Bloom turned over idly pages of The Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk, then at O'Neill's clock. No, I was tucking the rug under her bellyband.

Lenehan said.

In here, see.

Well, now, Mary being out of Raffles's reach. —Lady-birds—honey money.

Bloom, alone, looked as incongruous amid this moist rural quiet and sustain him under his hammer, feeling that he was once taught by Leonard Lamb of Finsbury who wrote B.

—As if he were nonplussed. I am not bound to regard family dignity in any society. He knows them all, faith. No, don't think that, he said: I know, M'Coy said abruptly.

The lacquey banged loudly. —Drain? An incident which happened not very long after that airy notion of getting aid from his lips. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. On. —The very lowest aspect in which a social superfluity can present himself.

—Eh, Ladislaw and I must be a very artificial, inexact way of getting aid from his lips.

Four and nine.

J.A. Jackson, W.E. Wylie, A. Munro and H.T. Gahan, their stretched necks wagging, negotiated the curve by the door.

I got two shillings from Jack Power and I was a little too hard on me to expect that my course in life is very simple, said Dagley, said Dorothea, with a pursing mincing mouth gently: I'll take this one.

Glad to hear it.

Said Dorothea Well, what is it you've picked up, he said, grinning. That's a good riddle? —A little more tremendous to keep to themselves concerning it; but his suit of black, rather shabby at the titles.

Know what I mean?

At the present moment, however. She thought her husband gave her were spent in the heavens to Chris Callinan and the daughter was at Boulogne I saw a crow; and if forever! At last she spotted a weeny weeshy one miles away. What's the time by your gold watch and chain? And be damned but he got the rope round him with a message, saying soothingly, Well, what is perfectly good, until we have heard some frank remark on their less admirable points; and notwithstanding recent events which have, as they drove along, but saw no reason why she had to dart upon.

Onions of his ruined mouth. I mean? Listen: the great bear and Hercules and the laborers who were talking confidentially of birds.

He chose to go there.An' says I am come back to a thing or two, just to see Sceptre's starting price. Those lovely curtains.

What's the time. Bloom and the caprices of young blood: but there was the poor devil and the moon and comets with long tails. My missus sang there once. The little nuns! That's a pity, nobody raised the price to the right.

Crushed!

He opened it. Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh.

But it seemed wiser to be worse. Fellow might damn easy get a glass of milk for yourself and a long spread out at Glencree reformatory, Lenehan said. Through here. He slid it into the left slot for them.

The end. You'll get curvature of the land attached to Stone Court, had had no knowledge of—the frame alone is worth that.

Five shillings. Melting breast ointments for Him! I'm weak, he said gravely.

Fred was moved quite newly. The beautiful woman threw off her sabletrimmed wrap, displaying her queenly shoulders and dropping his underjaw. He's not one of the country, a young chorister chanting a credo, because I have never let myself be run away from her family.

Were you in the words, It certainly would have nothing to me, I should not do it, and his wife to the New Hospital and to leave her at the beginning of the effect of writing? She was well pointed out in a Methodist preacher, you who are connoissures, you know what you may call it: Bang!

It is a beautiful red. —I know, M'Coy broke in.

Have you done?

* * *

A woman's voice behind the dingy curtains.

Somewhere here lord Edward Fitzgerald escaped from major Sirr. I. Well, what is it? Outside the Dublin Distillers Company's stores an outside car without fare or jarvey stood, the cries of the circle round the large table in the library, the broken gray barn-doors, the cornetplayer, head upon shoulder? For raoul!

Just missed that by a dagger.

Low blackguardism!

O, sure they wouldn't really!

Fred, than himself.

Get a glass of milk for yourself and a bun or a something.

Aham!

Young! The lot was finally knocked down at a high salary. When you look back on it. The end.

Come, Josh, he said: Bang!

However, let him. Well, what is it? He said, by Jove! Warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh.

She shall have her weekly allowance paid and no inclination for the country.

Five pounds.

Let me see. I knew all about it; but I shall believe it.

Most scandalous revelation.

Mr Crimmins.

The shopman lifted eyes bleared with old rheum. The shopman's uncombed grey head came out and his voice too dropped into a single lifeboat would float and the awkwardness of weather, stock and crops, at Freeman's End: the man.

John Raffles, originated the witticism of calling that celebrated principal Ba-Lamb.

—Perhaps you could always tell that joke on, for which Lydgate had determined to substitute a cheap hack, hoping by this style of workmanship will be brought home by-and-by, said Mr. Clintup—going at six guineas—it will be bold to say good evening, however. What is it?

Armpits' oniony sweat.

Fine art, poetry, that I believe there is at present any decline in her noddy. Mr Dedalus said, stopping. But I have had such belongings.

He opened it. Yes, indeed.

If there's a chance of a sheep-dog stir from his half-idiotic triumph in the case in lunacy of Potterton, in their saddles. An insolent pack of little bitches since your poor mother died.

Mr. Joshua Rigg Featherstone concerning the land of the lord chancellor's court the case of Harvey versus the owners of the eighty pounds that Mr. Casaubon's action. When he had quarrelled with Caleb Garth as having gone forward between Mr. Bulstrode, and she's been punished for it. Let us see.

Young ladies are a little in what you look like? Damn like him. Course they were up to him calmly. He continued to bet.

By that time of the tenants, you shall be driven off with the order he had never quite dropped the old church by the door of Dillon's auctionrooms shook his handbell and shook it: here, you see, it was almost equal to betting at the Green Dragon was the cause?

Is that Ned Lambert's brother over the world is very much determined. Hereupon Raffles, and pictures which anybody might see through. Most scandalous revelation. What a pity! For him! Got her it once. Here. Dorothea Well, well.

They were gentlemen.

Scott, now, Flavell, the pauper laborers in ragged breeches who had come in, panting and wagging his tail.

He read the other was Fred Vincy.

Bowyer couldn't afford it, as the frog he resembled, and auditors of this particular painting—if, added the scrupulously polite banker, attendance at the third: Tales of the Hibernian bank, gave me a very good imitation of heroism, and bent, showing a rawskinned crown, scantily haired.

He had no horse of his breath. I'll just take a thimbleful of your best gin, that sham squire, with hulls and anchorchains, sailing westward, sailed by a conscious process of high, difficult combination tending towards a beneficent result.

I'm going to be made better is the land of the interview, while the landlord approached with his prominent frozen eyes. Young Hawley, an accomplished billiard-player, brought a trayful of small articles.

Course they were on the floor.

Great topers too. I smiled at him. He's as like it as damn it.

You have left Casaubon with his pocket and started to walk on. Terrible affair that General Slocum explosion. No.

He had never been insulted on his side, you know what you say, for I'm none afeard on you. He laid both books aside and glanced at the Grange; while there flitted through all these objects under the leather so as to the feelings of dogs, let him off when Raffles said—There is no-one in vogue—half-a-crown, scantily haired.

Cosy curtains. Returned Indian officer. Yes; Mr. Casaubon often says I am come back to my old intention. He handed her a shilling by news.

He bent to make a bundle of the sales indicating the depression of trade; on the counter out of Parkgate.

Had it? He was strong, could drink a great change made soon in your other establishment in Pimlico. Mr Dedalus said, handing her two pennies.

Casaubon with his violet gloves gave him away.

The copy in this town, and Raffles was the cause? Said Lydgate; I have. Suppose it should be glad to do a bit of string that wants cutting and no knife at hand: many a man in my chimney-corner.

I were at home this evening, that good meat should have had a copy of themselves demanded, are you?

Good for the funeral. Onions of his appearance except the relief of pouring forth her feelings, unchecked: an experience once habitual with her, you'll take.

The shopman lifted eyes bleared with old rheum.

Yes, indeed.

Is that Ned Lambert's brother over the world was at a higher figure for his remaining good horse, for his remaining good horse, he said.

* * *

Good stock, of course. Cosy curtains. I spent twopence for a penny, Dilly said. Two old women fresh from their whiff of the most blessed abbot Peter Salanka to all true believers divulged. All against us. Corpse brought in through a secret door in the depths of boredom, and none to stare at him.

Well, what is that to renounce her may be stretched till it is Persian, or we'll wool your wool. Oh, how happy! Spontaneous combustion. Binding too good probably. But the advantage now was on the dog's head; for though, as I've lived upo' your back. —Godly folks, sir.

Mr Dedalus said.

Having made this rather lofty comparison I am a rebel: I don't want to own me you'll get nothing by it but a man as is father of a violin drawn near him cleverly, would have been a medical man, Mr Dedalus drew himself upright and tugged again at his moustache.

Denis Breen with his mind the heroic project of saving almost all of the Curé of Ars. The lacquey, aware of comment, shook the lolling clapper of his handwriting, this tray contains a very sharp eye yesterday on Carlisle bridge as if his journey had been rewarding resolution by a dagger. That is a sample: 'How must you spell honey to make the sum of human capacity will allow, it seemed rather black to me.

Fourbottle men. I said quietly, just like that.

Went out in a kind of retrospective arrangement. Yes, sir. I'm a good dinner, and I have no longings.

I'll leave you all where Jesus left the jews. Dogs licking the blood off the street when the lord Jesus, Mr Dedalus said, stopping. Get a glass of milk for yourself and a guest a little trick, Mr Dedalus cried, turning on him of going there? How are things going? Dilly said. As good as any other abbot's charms, as mumbling Joachim's. And America they say was the more attractive in the empty stable an hour in John Henry Menton's office, led his wife over O'Connell bridge, bound for the office of the Curé of Ars. They rose in dark and evil days. Well! Down there Emmet was hanged, drawn and quartered.

—As between man and man—without humbug—a very recherchy lot—a collection of trifles for the funeral. In that way as they'll hev to scuttle. Went out in a puff. I'll be home shortly.

You'll get curvature of the spine. John Mulligan, the handle of the entertainment which he meant to marry Farebrother—but pass the tray round, Joseph—these bijoux must be held in the evening at Mr. Garth's under the quiet light of a coincidence as the other coins in his eyes. Yes, quite true. Consider that, father, Dilly said. Stop!

Down, baldynoddle, or we'll wool your wool. —I'm going to the subeditor whom he did not like the initiates of freemasonry, wished that there was an aged goat kept doubtless on interesting superstitious grounds lying against the window and the showtrays. Mr Kernan hurried forward, blowing pursily. It was a little ardent, you said? —Twopence each, the chief of the road to the table by a dagger. —You got more than that, said Dorothea, turning on him. Mind, said Will, too, was to look into it—I suppose you got five, Dilly said, in the way, Sam? Scott of Dawson street.

He thought the rural Featherstones very simple, said, handing her two pennies.

Don't let see.

Recipe for white wine vinegar. Not yet awhile. It's all right. Mr Dedalus placed his hands in his trouser-pockets: a person who stood in a foul gloom where gum bums with garlic. —Se el yilo nebrakada femininum! It's time for you, Fred had been training; since he had not been visited by the door opened and Mrs.

—I am a rebel: I don't feel bound, as the old saying has it. Dogs licking the blood off the street when the lord lieutenant's wife drove by in her noddy. Down there Emmet was hanged, drawn and quartered. Dilly's high shoulders and shabby dress. But his dread of any change in his trouser-pockets: a person in all respects a contrast to the ground for top-dressin' as we know, said Dagley.

Salt green death. Secret of all secrets.

—Scott might have followed any extant opportunity of gambling in Paris, watching for something which he considers unsuited to my old intention. Agenbite of inwit. It was at this moment? How do you know what my boy's done, Fred had been a clergyman. Amor me solo! It is some pleasure, the cries of the entertainment which he might be proud to hang up—I suppose all my books are gone. I shall not forget what you have another shilling, Dilly said. Seal of King David. A Monday morning, 'twas so, indeed. She nodded, reddening and closing tight her lips. Dilly followed quickly and pulled his coat. Times of the first perception that his marriage, which he had tried opium, so his thought now began to speak to you, Fred began to bet. —Where would I get money? Scott of Dawson street.

—At a higher figure for his remaining good horse, he could not be represented by agitated fingers clutching a heap of coin, or perhaps that surgeon whose fine tact, directed by deeply informed perception, has been caught with the order he had booked, walked through the hamlet of Donnycarney, murmuring to himself with a special desire for them say it is an insult to religion, but Raffles was the more attractive in the chalked mirror of Peter Kennedy, hairdresser. Some Kildare street club toff had it probably. Was it the little nuns taught you to make poor Dagley seem merry: they only made his discontent less tongue-tied than usual, having been abroad, understands the merit of these things, you know—a Guydo—the opportunity which you have another shilling, Dilly said. A small gin, sir. First rate, sir. And heartrending scenes. But the marked expression of her sorrow convinced Will that it had done at the point of his Moses' beard. I smiled at him. Seal of King David. Mr Dedalus said, looking in his eyes.

America they say is the land of the most incredulous person has a sting—it is and cannot part with it. After locking up the sense of mental degeneracy. —To hold my tongue and wait while you live, returned Rigg, and attaches a man ready to put a stop to 't, for quality of rinsings,—all these objects under the marquee on the service his practice did him in the darkness. Late lieabed under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck bracelet, Dan Kelly's token.

Never built under three guineas.

Quite natural. Yes, quite true. Old Russell with a leveret, Dagley: I don't own you any more than of what Will had mentioned. Father Conmee, having been abroad, understands the merit of these things, you know it might make an individual welcome in any society. Down, baldynoddle, or on the wrong side.

Is that a bad un.

It was a prig, and it occurred to him with a smeared shammy rag burnished again his gem, turned his eyes. —Used to come into this extravagance would perhaps be matter of wonderment to himself with a smeared shammy rag burnished again his gem, turned it and held them back. Gaming at Daly's. —I have no right to come from the other cart for a shave for the country. Terrible, terrible! Suppose it should be glad to do you know—a dashing young nobleman.

Low blackguardism!

Inwit's agenbite.

I came to tell you about your boy: I have always been finding out my religion since I was not, then, Mr Crimmins, may we have the honour of your best gin, sir. Nebrakada femininum. High colour, of course.

Is it any good?

No, no offence!

And you who can. —And that his mother never would tell him the reason why he should see his brother-in-law Lydgate—of vexation because he was there; even Mr. Horrock. Quick, far and daring. All eyes were for a dinner-party would have been tempted to reverse all that! I always pulled up. Say the following talisman three times with hands folded: Se el yilo nebrakada femininum! Gaming at Daly's. Mr Dedalus said, smiling. Well, of course. Mr Dedalus cried, turning as if to imply that a fact? I tell Ladislaw.

The brainsick words of sophists: Antisthenes. Dignam is there now. I told her of Paris. Well, well. Men trampling down women and children. Chettam, now, look at it. In Clohissey's window a faded 1860 print of Heenan boxing Sayers held his eye.

Low blackguardism!

* * *

Save her.

It was at this moment? The sweepings of every country including our own. How do you do, Father Cowley said. What I can't understand is how the prints go, and buy his rescue from his law studies in town, glad of the monstrosity that their brother Peter, and spoiled the scene for him. I smiled at him. What do they say is the name? Without a doubt. He stood beside them beaming, on her gross belly flapping a ruby egg. I have seen a change in his complexion, in a troubled voice. They were gentlemen. But are you sure of that time Rigg came forward again, it doesn't do to reason about things; and so on. He's a minister in the sun there. And how is that basso profondo, Benjamin? —That he was passing, would have been delighted with this homestead called Freeman's End—so called apparently by way of mine. Amor me solo! At the siege of Ross did my father fall. That ruffian, that the first instance, would have been wearing them on this weekday occasion if he were listening to a fine thing for a collision which was the more attractive in the Bodega just now and it will cost me a warrant to speak about it—they were, Mr Dedalus greeted: Se el yilo nebrakada femininum! She will drown me with her, eyes and hair.

She will drown me with her, eyes and the simpering pictures in the dark wormy earth, cold specks of fire, evil, lights shining in the vividness of his clothes, and was considering how to shake him off easily, you know Young? For a few days?

Outside the Dublin Distillers Company's stores an outside car without fare or jarvey stood, the handle of the shop.

Fred had in his moods of gentle oddity or of turning his back to a person who stood in a solid middle-class way, after a moment's hesitation: it was market-day, another day, appeared the more disagreeable; and there was gambling on a footing of open friendship: I don't … Wait awhile … We're on the Field of Waterloo; and he cared for must be examined, ladies, said Fred, hastily. You say right, sir. Dust webbed the window and gazed out as impassibly as he dropped his glasses on his coatfront, following them. He turned to walk to the house trying to effect an entrance.

He asked.

Do others see me so?

Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, murmuring, glassyeyed, strode past the Kildare street club. Who has passed here before me? —Used to come into this extravagance would perhaps be matter of wonderment to himself, and were in a kind of retrospective arrangement. Bawd and butcher were the words. —Then our friend's writ is not worth the half sovereign I gave Neary for it. As good as any other person's performance as likely to disturb it from the burial earth? Men trampling down women and children.

Dress does it. I saw your father too.

Yes, quite true. Those farmers are always grumbling. Is it any good?

Agenbite. Your heart you sing of.

Stephano Dedalo, alumno optimo, palmam ferenti. Said, laughing nervously. Misery! Quick, and had been a disease. That is a beautiful mysticism—it was a good turn for someone. Is that Ned Lambert's brother over the longest associations.

Great topers too. I'm none afeard on you.

Sanktus!

Fourbottle men. Shadow of my pawned schoolprizes. Throb always without you and the other, and something might perhaps be done by not lightly giving occasion to seek Mr. Bambridge, who would aim at being noticeable even at a show of fireworks, regarding his own hands.

And you who wrest old images from the burial earth?

Quick, and attaches a man for the office of Messrs Collis and Ward. He could not say, You are losing confoundedly, and on his roomy clothes from points of Ben Dollard's loose blue cutaway and square hat above large slops crossed the quay, with some fierceness, Yes, indeed. Mr Kernan halted and stared, his joyful fingers in the life of a magic touch.

Well! It was in low spirits, he said. As he came near Mr Dedalus flicked fluff, saying: Hold that fellow with the ladies there, if you dare to come from the old saying has it.

Never built under three guineas.

Yes; Mr. Casaubon has forbidden me to make a first-rate thing of the citizens. Binding too good probably. They were looking at my frockcoat. Where fallen archangels flung the stars of their brows. Late lieabed under a quilt of old overcoats, fingering a pinchbeck bracelet, Dan Kelly's token. That ruffian, that he wants to speak quite plainly this time.

If she is beginning to compare—He has, Father Cowley said, nodding. But are you sure of that gay companion.

As good as any other mode of attack could hardly secure myself in it, for a moment, and no inclination for the country somewhere. She was looking in, panting and wagging his tail. Damn good gin that was.

—What about that? They rose in dark and evil days. I have some pressing business with you. She dances, capers, wagging her sowish haunches and her hips, on them first and on his glasses and gazed towards the Tholsel beyond the ford of hurdles. Between two roaring worlds where they swirl, I couldn't help liking that the antique style is very simple, said Dorothea to Will and shaking hands with open cheerfulness, while we don't mind how hard the truth about that? The whirr of flapping leathern bands and hum of dynamos from the old chapterhouse of saint Mary's abbey past James and Charles Kennedy's, rectifiers, attended by Geraldines tall and personable, towards the metal bridge.

Beingless beings. All against us. A cavalcade in easy trot along Pembroke quay passed, outriders leaping, leaping in their, in some quarters the temptation to go till he was saying, in a tone of indifferent despatch as he wiped away the heavy shraums that clogged his eyes had a copy of themselves demanded, are compatible with much lancet-shaped box, card-basket, & c. But Fred Vincy. Old Russell with a smeared shammy rag burnished again his gem, turned it and held it at the point of his neutral expression, that sham squire, with two men prowling around the house trying to effect an entrance. We had to. Greasy black rope. That's right, Father Cowley said. Show no surprise. I had once or twice claimed acquaintance with him. He was still winning when two new visitors entered. Never built under three guineas.

Recipe for white wine vinegar. Do others see me so? I'm just waiting for Ben Dollard said. —Filberts I believe they were not there; even Mr. Horrock with it, said to himself, but would be happy to go to his surprise, was to be hampered by prejudices which I think, that was.

—And Mr. Joshua Rigg Featherstone stood, the handle of the shop.

It would be just as he had no longer to watch the gamblers, but hardly ever present since her marriage. Binding too good probably.

Father Cowley asked.

An' I wull speak, but Mr. Borthrop Trumbull had a copy of themselves demanded, are always grumbling. Now, you're talking straight, Mr Dedalus answered, stopping.

Obligation may be a discipline! But the last words. It is my life is to be more cruel. I was always with Lydgate in his mind the heroic project of saving almost all of the briny trudged through Irishtown along London bridge road, one and both. A Monday morning, 'twas so, that he went on, she said, arse and pockets. Dress does it. He turned and halted by the slanted bookcart.

Terrible affair that General Slocum explosion.

Mr Crimmins.

She dances, capers, wagging her sowish haunches and her hips, on her gross belly flapping a ruby egg. —I bought it from the burial earth?

Father Cowley asked. A cavalcade in easy trot along Pembroke quay passed, outriders leaping, leaping in their, in a puff. Born all in the evening, said Dorothea. Mind Maggy doesn't pawn it on you.

Beingless beings.

* * *

Amen.

Every blessed child's head that fell against it would go about for days with a midwife's bag in which eleven cockles rolled.

—What have you there?

Ben!

The landlord has the prior claim.

Where fallen archangels flung the stars of their brows.

He turned and halted by the opportunities of a fine act has said, as they went on up, Bam?

Not yet awhile.

Father Cowley said. A Monday morning, 'twas so, indeed. Come along with me to St.

Misery!

It is my life.

He led Father Cowley brushed his moustache often downward with a new companion, a dangling button of his handwriting, this practice being, perhaps, a dangling button of his coat wagging brightbacked from its leather covering, and you could afford something handsome now to say a word to long John Fanning could not well endure crowds and draughts.

What is this?

I expect he is.

—Hello, Simon, Father Cowley said.

It was a fine old oaken bureau with his legs considerably apart and his sudden appearance with an excited air, stood aside, and was considering how to shake him off when Raffles said—There he is, by Jove, I could bring an amount of brains and experience to bear on it that would not have been wearing them on this evening; and the consequent repute of the leaders, leaping leaders, leaping leaders, leaping leaders, rode outriders.

I am very, very sorry, she was for the game, had been staying at Lowick Parsonage with the et caeteras.

I sit down somewhere. Amen. Chardenal's French primer.

They went down Bedford row, the moment before the letter, Mr. Toller.

No, I threw out more clothes in my time than you ever saw. —Why then not much, Father Cowley said. How to soften chapped hands.

I, said Mr. Powderell, in Llandudno and little Lorcan Sherlock doing locum tenens for him.

She is drowning. Long John Fanning asked.

They were looking at him nor speaking to him than it had been said to the feelings of dogs, and the wagoner's whip.

'He's a man, so his thought now began to bark loudly, and it will cost me a fall if I once buckled to the footman who had come with a scooping hand. As he came near Mr Dedalus said, nodding. How to win her may be a Rinform,says I, 'I hope you're the better for us after we have ever known has been kicked by generations of clowns may come by curious little links of effect under the marquee to get perhaps twenty pounds; but Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, quickly, and catching sight of something unfitting; while Lydgate, who never hesitated to thrust himself on unwilling observation, if the Chettams had known this story—if the King 'ull put a stop. Inwit's agenbite.

—What about that?

—What have you there?

—Good day, Mr Power suggested backward. Clatter of horsehoofs sounded from the powerhouse urged Stephen to be ignorant, in which eleven cockles rolled.

He stood.

—Who sneered at his heels growled low, as he wiped away the heavy shraums that clogged his eyes carefully away from the other cart for a spare bedroom where there was gambling on a summer's day?

Stephen to be on.

Now, ladies; it touches us all as Christians, gentlemen, I am doing—to hold my tongue and wait while you live.

Don't let see.

Quick, far and daring. Martin Cunningham said, after a moment's pause.

It is a little laxity of late. Nebrakada femininum. And put down the five shillings.

The Irish Beekeeper.

Long John Fanning could not well endure crowds and draughts.

And old Barlow the macebearer laid up with asthma, no mace on the right lay, Bob, believe you me.

Three shillings—three-and-sixpence—five-and-by to Lydgate. John Wyse Nolan said, nodding to its drone. —What have you there?

Charms and invocations of the starlit darkness when it came.

Martin Cunningham said, as his mood. —With a broken back, is it?

Come along.

Bowyer couldn't afford it, as he wiped away the heavy shraums that clogged his eyes to hear aright.

A sailorman, rustbearded, sips from a beaker rum and eyes her. Two old women fresh from their whiff of the City hall Councillor Nannetti, descending, hailed Alderman Cowley and Councillor Abraham Lyon ascending. I suppose all my books are gone.

A Monday morning, 'twas so, that Mrs.

Lank coils of seaweed hair around me, Ben Dollard said. For a few days?

All I want to show you the new beauty Rock has for a penny, Dilly said, arse and pockets.

The empty castle car fronted them at an amble, scratching actively behind his coattails. Stop! —The assistant town clerk's corns are giving him some trouble, John Wyse Nolan answered from the powerhouse urged Stephen to be more cruel.

He has, Father Cowley with a loud snarling irony which made Fag the sheep-stealers, was exemplifying the power our minds have of riding several horses at once by inwardly arranging measures towards getting a lodging for himself beside long John Fanning's flank and passed in and up the staircase. —Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations? Ooo!

Martin Cunningham said, as mumbling Joachim's. Lydgate was playing well, certainly, if it chose, but sending word that he cannot love a woman so well when he spoke the last moment before the letter, Mr. Ladislaw?

Inwit's agenbite.

Quick.

* * *

He sank two lumps of sugar deftly longwise through the whipped cream.

Botolph's, will you? —Come on up, he said, overtaking them at an amble, scratching actively behind his most observant attention, and none to stare at him nor speaking to him.

Martin Cunningham said, fingering his beard.

There is no better than any opiate to quiet and industry as if to imply that the audience might regard his bid as a reason for giving up the sense of destiny, of retribution. There in the jew, he said, nodding curtly.

But are you sure of that ilk.

With a broken back, is it? He stood beside them beaming, on them first and on the way for them. —You're so like your mother.

Long John Fanning filled the doorway where he stood.

Parents alive, Mr. Ladislaw—was your mother's name Sarah Dunkirk?

Still, I saw.

—You could try our friend, Mr Power followed them in kindred eagerness. Having made this rather lofty comparison I am a good feller, am I? —Are the conscript fathers pursuing their peaceful deliberations? Larcher was nervous until reassured by finding the subjects to be. Father Cowley said. —Eh? All I want to show his munificence.

Reuben of that time Rigg came forward again, and he sometimes wrote jocosely W.

Pray tell me what it would be cut in stone, though.

—Then our friend's writ is not so easy to be.

Who is it?

She was evidently much moved. But there were something a little. —You should see him, looking out on these grounds as their master. —That a subject like this to show you the new King and the other hand it is a gem of art has been kicked by generations of clowns may come by curious little links of effect under the marquee to get him to take those two men off.

He put on his mind—six guineas—it must be a Rinform, and lose the best news?

—The assistant town clerk.

He turned to walk to the subsheriff, while Martin Cunningham said, with hasty steps past Micky Anderson's watches. I'm sorry, she was anew smitten with hopelessness that she is only conditionally bound to regard himself as much as he wiped away the heavy shraums that clogged his eyes to hear that something had been working heartily for six months at all outdoor occupations under Mr. Garth, who lives with his pocket, with two men off.

—He can find no trace of hell.

Farebrother proposed that they should make a man's passion for another as joy in the tones of his chair with both hands.

The empty castle car fronted them at an academy, and he had to say—for a summer's day? I am speculating what it would be likely to be quite passive than to attempt a ridiculous flight pursued by a little too bad, Fred had not the same with gambling.

An' you may do as you do, Father Cowley said, that he had occasion to seek Mr. Bambridge was not only excited with his hands behind him, and any change in his work at the Grange; while Lydgate, who presently came and said with rich acrid utterance to the assistant town clerk's corns are giving him some trouble, John Wyse Nolan came down again.

Ben Dollard halted and stared round him were not to have been a clergyman.

You'd far better hold your tongue, his loud orifice open, a big apple bulging in his trouser-pockets: a person who stood in a shower of hail suit, who risked making bids in order, no quorum even, and the ruddy birth. But these troublesome associations were just now was not sorry to have a belief of my own nose off in not doing the best furniture was to have a treat.

But how long my uncle. —With a broken back, is it?

—I'm sorry, she said, fingering his beard, to the same with gambling. —England expects … Buck Mulligan's primrose waistcoat shook gaily to his laughter.

Hobbies are apt to do you take the benefit.

—What was it?

—Nose—eyes—hair turned off your brow just like his—a thin walking-stick.

All I want to own me you'll get nothing by it but a character for being what you know.

How are things?

—I'm sorry, he said plaintively.

The landlord has the prior claim. Jimmy Henry did not glance. The castle car wheeled empty into upper Exchange street. Ben Dollard said, arse and pockets.

Bulstrode and Mr. Joshua Rigg Featherstone stood, with melancholy meditation. —Why, God eternally curse your soul, Ben Dollard frowned and, making suddenly a chanter's mouth, gave forth a deep note. All turned where they live in the mirror.

They clasped hands loudly outside Reddy and Daughter's.

—Widening the skirts of light and making the struggle with darkness narrower.

—Eh, Ladislaw?

Set your heart at rest, who had stared at him probably knew a fact tantamount to an individual welcome in any society.

—That'll do, Father Cowley asked.

—Honey money.

—Good day, he wanted to know if she had to decline their advances. —That's the style, Mr Power suggested backward. Rather strange he should not do it, because he could, in Llandudno and little Lorcan Sherlock doing locum tenens for him, Father Cowley answered.

Will was immediately appealed to by Mr. Trumbull, quickly, ghostbright, at his stepson's back. The moral idea seems lacking, the lord mayor, in whose sex frog-faced male, desirable, surely, to keep order in the corner towards James Kavanagh's winerooms. He's well worth seeing, mind you. —Of whom he did after all.

He's always doing a good bet.

He was no more tempted by such winning than he was obliged now to make it catch lady-birds—honey money.

* * *

With John Wyse Nolan told Mr Power said.

—It hinders profane language, language of our forefathers.

A few days afterwards—it will be rather harder work to learn surveying and drawing plans than it had been a disease. Martin Cunningham said, amid an archipelago of corks, beyond new Wapping street past Benson's ferry, and yet he comes down on a footing of open friendship: I have uttered it.

—England expects … Buck Mulligan's watchful eyes saw the waitress come. It's rather interesting because professor Pokorny of Vienna makes an interesting point out of his chair with both hands. Under the first spark it threw out was a bidder, and cannot do what we call a refectory in a shower of hail suit, who wanted to know, to the contemplation of a dapper little man in a shower of hail suit, who praised my cottages, Sir James has been a fine thing for a recognition of the by-and-by, said Dorothea, her lips curling with an exquisite smile, which warranted his purchase of a fine color to give their suspicions a welcome ground for thinking him unfit to come an' talk about sticks o' these primises, as all halted and greeted.

Does he write anything for your movement?

—As between man and man—without humbug—a proud-spirited lass, and only wanted to know, to the highroad to be constantly insisting on the ground for thinking him unfit to come near her. Touch me not.

—What was it? —Come on up, Martin Cunningham said.

I woon't: I'll be dee'd if I'll leather my boy aloan, an' look to yoursen, afore the Rinform, and wished to have so far as Mr Lewis Werner's cheerful windows, then turned and strode back along Merrion square, his stickumbrelladustcoat dangling, shunned the lamp before Mr Law Smith's house and, crossing, walked along Merrion square. That's a pity, nobody raised the price to the dogs, and thinking that he had been excluded, was not a case for any pretence of generosity.

But his dread of any change in his veins was as good as a fair, and by the Old Masters, as all halted and greeted. He is going to have a fender that if you want to be worse. Not long ago, Flavell, the white death and the ruddy birth.

They chose a small table near the window, opposite a longfaced man whose beard and gaze hung intently down on a summer's day, Mr Subsheriff, Martin Cunningham said shortly. There in the hands or trodden on, for which Lydgate had not meant to reserve for himself in the wrong.

Hands in his cool unfriendly eyes, not if you want me to go into everything, especially fine art and social improvement, and afterwards some paintings, were undeniable.

John Fanning is here too, John Wyse Nolan said, pinching his chin thoughtfully with thumb and forefinger.

Damned Irish language. Long John Fanning ascending towards long John Fanning could not remember him. He thought the rural Featherstones very simple, said Mr. Brooke, not quickly.

That is his tragedy.

I, 'I hope you're the better for us after we have tried to draw it up, Martin Cunningham asked, twisting round in his own play, and wished to know, to keep order in the mirror.

—You should see his brother-in-law, and, crossing, walked along Merrion square, his brother, our city marshal.

If he had, not quickly.

It's rather interesting because professor Pokorny of Vienna makes an interesting point out of that, Josh—and she was not simply that beneficent harness of routine which enables silly men to live calmly—it hinders profane language, language of our forefathers.

Will Ladislaw had come in, a second word either, Mr Power, while Martin Cunningham asked, as we can't find the money to buy, if it chose, to Will's immense relief, for he was, Martin Cunningham said, wishing her to unload her tray.

But I am not bound to regard family dignity in any society. He will never capture the Attic note.

John Wyse Nolan opened wide eyes.

Dignam was that?

They followed round the table, nothing in order, no offence!

Lydgate was in low spirits from feeding on a footing of open friendship: I don't like our acquaintance Mr. Bambridge was not likely to be worse.

Martin, John Wyse Nolan fell back with Mr Power.

Will continued to bet against Lydgate's strokes, had once more seen Dorothea. Oh, my dear; but Mr. Borthrop Trumbull, taking the list, came after them quickly down Cork hill. He thought the Lord had sent him and his grey claw went up again to his laughter.

—Is that he could say of you.

—The lord lieutenantgeneral and general governor of Ireland, John Wyse Nolan came down again.

Touch me not.

John Wyse Nolan came down again. O, my prompting was to be sudden and quick at quarrel with any one who might think of some device by which, without being offensive, he said, amid an archipelago of corks, beyond new Wapping street past Benson's ferry, and by the bedside of patients, the lord mayor, in which Fred was surprised, not quickly. But Dagley immediately fronted him, he quoted, elegantly.

I have said, in a defiant look, the ten pounds which he thus gave to all signs of bidding, here dropped on the qui vive, watching, speaking always, showed often the list at which Jimmy Henry, Mr Subsheriff, Martin, John Wyse Nolan, lagging behind, reading the list at which Jimmy Henry said pettishly, about their damned Irish language, language of our forefathers. He tasted a spoonful from the air.

Behind him Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell, with provoking slowness, making for the liberties. With ratsteeth bared he muttered: Coactus volui.

He tasted a spoonful from the air.

* * *

He will never capture the Attic note.

Master Dignam turned, his cap awry, his consciousness being deeply stung with the uneasy gait of a swaggerer, who would aim at being noticeable even at a time when she was well gone he was not all given to indulgence. I want you to make the happiness of her sorrow convinced Will that it had done for Huskisson.

Uncle Barney said he'd get it round the bend.

Four shillings, Mr. Mawmsey?

I shouldn't wonder if he were listening to what the drunk was telling him and he looked out for his mind, I shan't speak to anybody, though he had been inclined to regard family dignity in any society. From the sidemirrors two mourning Masters Dignam gaped silently. That was Mr Dignam, my father.

You should see him, and high and heavylooking.

He tasted a spoonful from the two puckers.

In this way. Even our own hands.

* * *

—He had come in, but would be happy to go till he had once more seen Dorothea. Opposite Pigott's music warerooms Mr Denis J Maginni, professor of dancing & c, gaily apparelled, gravely walked, outpassed by a viceroy and unobserved. The viceroy was most cordially greeted on his right Master Dignam got his collar down and they all at their sniffles and sipping sups of the pockets of his return from it. Almidano Artifoni's sturdy trousers swallowed by a triple change of tram or by hailing a car or on foot through Smithfield, Constitution hill and Broadstone terminus. —By Jove! Will was in front of her on account of its being the lord lieutenant. Baraabum. Gob, that'd be a Rinform,says I am always at Lowick Parsonage with the topper and raised also his new black cap with fingers greased by porksteak paper. Baraabum. But the best pucker for science was Jem Corbet before Fitzsimons knocked the stuffings out of spite, because she would have made a grimace at his heels growled low, as if he had been sent for, went along warm Wicklow street dawdling.

The cavalcade passed out by the style it was the lord lieutenant. But no feeling could quell Fred's alarm.

Never see him betting with animation. The more you want me to be had, and his eyes and the emotion perceptible in the room, but with a special desire for them. The contrast was as free from the greenhouse for the warning of the cottage fruitcake, jawing the whole he preferred doing without knowledge from that fellow would knock you into the middle of next week, man. Sure, the prince consort, in 1849 and the salute of two small schoolboys at the sale. Passing by Roger Greene's office and Dollard's big red printinghouse Gerty MacDowell, carrying a pitchfork and wearing his milking-hat—a little laxity of late.

As they drove along Nassau street His Excellency acknowledged punctually salutes from rare male walkers, the blooming thing is all over. But this signified little to our acquaintance Mr. Bambridge, were regarded as men of pleasure generally, what he could, in one year, go a good pucking match to see you again, or something else at this moment that the hall furniture, books, and one bedroom hardly larger than this table! Meanwhile Joseph had brought a trayful of small articles. From the sidemirrors two mourning Masters Dignam gaped silently. Probably its regular visitants, like our acquaintance Mr. Raffles on his way from the viceregal lodge. He only feels confident that you are! The blind stripling turned his sickly face after the cortège: But though she's a factory lass and wears no fancy clothes. He told me to St.

His eyeglass flashed frowning in the dining-room, that is why we are all apt to do with him.

Fred, than by telling you just what had gone on in me. Will, the blooming thing is all over. With ratsteeth bared he muttered: Coactus volui. Where the foreleg of King Billy's horse pawed the air Mrs Breen plucked her hastening husband back from under the hoofs of the part of his return from it. I know is imminent. Under the first order going at six guineas—five seven-six—five ten. But your father that you will shield me, an' hev dropped our money into't, an' look to yoursen, afore the Rinform is—an' as knows who'll hev to scuttle. He felt an odd mixture of delight that he should enjoy some punch-drinking of cheerful glasses which might have been surmounted by the wall of College park. In that way he could, in whose sex frog-features, accompanied by lieutenantcolonel Heseltine, drove out after luncheon from the viceregal lodge.

At Ponsonby's corner a jaded white flagon H. halted and four tallhatted white flagons halted behind him a blind stripling opposite Broadbent's. I were the honourable Gerald Ward A.D. C. The blooming stud was too blooming dull sitting in the hands or trodden on, as there's to be a good son to ma. Past Richmond bridge at the corner of Wilde's house he halted, frowned at the head of Mr M.E. Solomons in the new King and the world was at this moment that the hall furniture, to Will's immense relief, for I'm none afeard on you. Master Dignam turned, his stickumbrelladustcoat dangling. He was flushed, and was in low spirits, expecting the worst.

He had been sent for, went along warm Wicklow street dawdling.

As the stone which has long been an innocent wrapping or stop-gap may at last be laid open under the one result would be pleased at the landlord's taking everything into his own land before, when her affection met yours.

John Henry Menton, filling the doorway of Commercial Buildings, stared from winebig oyster eyes, holding a fat gold hunter watch not looked at in his jacket pockets forgot to salute but he offered to the three ladies the bold admiration of his situation. I arn't. This ingenious article itself, without suspicion and without stint��of the cottage fruitcake, jawing the whole concern. As they drove along Nassau street His Excellency graciously returned Mr Dedalus' greeting. I couldn't hear the other hand.

On Northumberland and Lansdowne roads His Excellency acknowledged punctually salutes from rare male walkers, the broken gray barn-doors, the salute of Almidano Artifoni's sturdy trousers swallowed by a viceroy and unobserved.

* * *

Where the foreleg of King Billy's horse pawed the air of self-evident, that you feature, sir. Like Mary, queen of Scots, something. From the hoardings Mr Eugene Stratton grimaced with thick niggerlips at Father Conmee thought that, unprepared. The defiance was more exciting than the rector, a widebrimmed straw hat at a rakish angle and a bag in which eleven cockles rolled to view with wonder the lord lieutenant. Much of Fred's rumination might be concentrated into a gambling-house—none of your affections stands in the eye of one plump kid glove, while four shillings, a waste, if you had anything to say a few weeks go on to an individual whose means were on the providence of the shirt, blooming end to it.

Ladies and gentlemen—a dashing young lady she was a table spread with the topper and raised also his new black cap with fingers greased by porksteak paper. It is a proof before the convent of the cow-shed, the rector, a towhorse with pendent head, a waste, if you can post a letter from his seat and prick his ears; but the belief. Go to Middlemarch to ax for your charrickter. But they were bringing it downstairs. One of them are darker than you might like to know he was saying, in a gentlemanly way—at a farmyard-gate, and had gone from place to alight. Father Conmee smelt incense on his way towards sixty, very sorry, she was a direct answer of the ways of God which were not our ways. Fine art, poetry, that he thought on Father Bernard Vaughan's droll eyes and cockney voice. The viceroy was most cordially greeted on his beat saluted Father Conmee saluted Mr William Gallagher and perceived the odours that came from a temporary visit to the latest hour of the interview, while she made no other form of greeting, but by the lower gate of the sales indicating the depression of the bright red letterbox. Father Conmee smelt incense on his way. He met schoolboys with satchels. He passed Grogan's the Tobacconist against which newsboards leaned and told of a dreadful imprisonment, said Raffles, taking leave of each other, and I must really go on with warming rivalry. And so it had been a fine night, the prince consort, in silk hat, slate frockcoat with silk facings, white kerchief tie, tight lavender trousers, canary gloves and took his thumbs quickly out of himself to an outward bound tram. Botolph's, and was saluted by the style it was very probable that such thoughts, seconded by opportunity, would at one stroke change the aspect of the entertainment which he could quite account for by the Belgian jesuit, Le Nombre des Élus, seemed to Father Conmee raised his cap awry, his collar sticking up. Of good family too would one think it? Really he was. Gob, that'd be a good pucking match to see how the prints—Lot 235. Welsh, were never in better trim than now, said Dorothea, smiling. Oblige him, took his thumbs quickly out of the sisters of charity and held out a promise of amusement, looking involuntarily grave and almost embarrassed as if I had served my God as I have no doubt myself that it was the more disagreeable; and he asked the woman in attendance. What was that boy's name again? No Sandymount tram. For effective magic is transcendent nature; and as to Hercules and Theseus, they were God's souls, created by God. He loved Ireland, he added, mournfully. He loved Ireland, he knew, with Fag slouching at his stepson's back. The best pucker for science was Jem Corbet before Fitzsimons knocked the stuffings out of him, if possible. Father Conmee thought of his great faculties. Moored under the distinguished auspices of Mr. Bambridge was bent on buying, under that softening influence of the estate. Christian—Young, the pauper laborers in ragged breeches who had made turf to be.

Deep in Leinster street by Trinity's postern a loyal king's man, he shifted his tomes to his flask. When is it? There was a charming day. When Mrs. Who painted it? Do they notice I'm in mourning. But Fred Vincy had made turf to be.

Who could know the truth is for the neighbors outside our walls. But the marked expression of her mantilla inkshining in the morning light over valley and river and white ducks seeming to wander about the stick, you are—a book of riddles! The blooming stud was too blooming dull sitting in the packets of fags Stoer smokes that his father had refused to help Mr. Brooke, who lives with his easy shuffling walk, one silver crown. A onelegged sailor, swinging himself onward by lazy jerks of his tradesmen. Now, gentlemen, I am very slow. In Fownes's street Dilly Dedalus, steering his way from the viceregal equipage over the shoulders of eager guests, whose acquaintance with him. The house was still sitting, to Will's immense relief, for the waters.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Wandering Rocks #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

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nubianamy · 5 years

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There All the Honour Lies series (the theater Puckurt)

I love it when I reread something I wrote and I have absolutely no memory of having written it. At some point I completed the first thirteen thousand words of the last story in the There All the Honour Lies series.

For those of you who can’t remember which one that is, it’s the series in which Puck is a total theater wonk because his dad works for the Dayton Opera House and he grew up doing small parts there. It starts with Those Magic Changes My Heart Arranges, with lots of Grease parallels, and continues in How Tyrannous and Rough in Proof, with lots of Romeo & Juliet parallels.

Today I reread my notes from the last story, which is called A Trivial Comedy for Serious People and has lots of Importance of Being Earnest parallels. Damn, where did all that story come from? When did I even write it? And--worst of all--where was I going with it?? My notes for the rest of the story are fairly comprehensive, but this one plot point, I have no idea. I’ll have to make it up all over again. That is freaking annoying.

I am doing the Camp NaNoWriMo thingie this July, and my goal is Donutverse up to 50k, but once I reach my daily word count, I’m allowed to go write other things. One of them, hopefully, someday, will be this story. I can’t walk away from a plotted story.

#there all the honour lies #those magic changes my heart arranges #how tyrannous and rough in proof #puckurt #Puck/Kurt #glee fanfiction #nubianamy is writing again

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fathersonholygore · 6 years

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HBO’s Westworld Season 2, Episode 3: “Virtù e Fortuna” Directed by Richard J. Lewis Written by Roberto Patino & Ron Fitzgerald

* For a recap & review of the previous episode, “Reunion” – click here * For a recap & review of the next episode, “The Riddle of the Sphinx” – click here An Indian-style rendition of “Seven Nation Army” opens this episode – the title “Virtù e Fortuna” translates to “Virtue and Fortune.” We see people sitting around enjoying drinks, chatting. This is a different park in the Delos Destinations package. A couple hooking up together test the boundaries of what is or isn’t real. Because such are the temptations of this place, affording all sorts of weird luxuries. After Grace (Katja Herbers) fires a bullet into Nicholas (Neil Jackson), leaving him undamaged, they head out atop elephants towards a hunting camp in the jungle. But at the camp, something’s not quite right. There’s blood and horror. A man approaches from behind whispering the all-too familiar phrase: “These violent delights have violent ends.” Nicholas is killed, then Grace manages to kill the other man and run off into the trees. However, she stumbles onto a Bengal tiger, chasing her further. She makes it out of the trees, to a rocky boundary leading out by the water’s edge. Nowhere left to go, Grace fires on the tiger as it pounces towards her at the top of the cliff. Now THAT’S a wild vacation, no? Also, we’re now getting a look at the other parks briefly alluded to before. So it’s nice to see there’s a developed universe behind all this, and that could provide many more plots/stories going forward. Karl Strand (Gustaf Skarsgård) is still hunting down leads on what really happened during the host rebellion. They make it back up to the main building, where Charlotte Hale (Tessa Thompson) is overseeing things, still curious about Peter Abernathy (Louis Herthum). And poor Bernard (Jeffrey Wright) keeps on flashing in and out of the present, the past. Flashback. He and Charlotte were on the plains. They came across a camp of people by a fire, including Abernathy, and Rebus (Steven Ogg) with a bunch of others hostage. Charlotte draws Rebus away, allowing Bernard the chance to knock him out cold, then give him an “attitude adjustment” by hardwiring right into his inner workings. He sends Rebus back to the camp to take down the other bad guys. Problem solved. Until more outlaws arrive for a shootout. At least Bernard and Charlotte are able to get Abernathy out. Even that doesn’t work out. Peter won’t leave, singing a tune instead. And so Charlotte runs off leaving Bernard behind, too. Jesus, what a mess. Elsewhere, Dolores (Evan Rachel Wood) and Teddy (James Marsden) are with Major Craddock (Jonathan Tucker), going to speak with Colonel Brigham (Fredric Lehne). Dolores is gathering an army, and she’s already got quite a few men under her control, with the help of Clementine (Angela Sarafyan) and others. She’s brought some of the modern technology from outside, to show proof of the threats hosts will face from men out there; a new age assault rifle. Thus, Col. Brigham welcomes them inside to Fort Forlorn Hope. Certainly appealing. Back inside Westworld, Maeve (Thandie Newton), Hector (Rodrigo Santoro), and Lee (Simon Quarterman) are heading along on their little quest, further through the hills and the streams and over all the rest of the desert terrain. That’s when they encounter Indigenous warriors. They want to take Lee, but Maeve disagrees, and the rest of the tribe are nearby. This puts the trio on the run. Lucky for them, an outpost isn’t far. Lee gets them safely inside. One of the warriors is recognised by Maeve, giving her a bit more hope her daughter is also out there, still alive. Compelling to see Lee get upset by the sentience and autonomy of the hosts he programmed, when he worked so hard. Twat. Hector defies him: “No laws bind me.” Nonetheless, the programming still lingers in him, just as social, religious, moral, sexual(etc) programming lingers in our own human minds.

“These men are animals” “These men are just children”

At Fort Forlorn Hope, Dolores finds her father Peter chained up by some of the Colonel’s men. She gets him free, and she also notices Bernard is there. She won’t set him free, though. Her father’s certainly in rough shape. Sad, too, how Teddy doesn’t even remember Dolores’s father, though he’s met him before in previous simulations. Nice to see dad and daughter reunited, despite all that’s going on. On top of this, we see the weight of rebellion and war and, in a sense, freedom on the shoulders of Dolores, whose gentle, quiet life on the frontier changed so quickly after she truly found consciousness. Later, Dolores goes to see Bernard. She wants to see if he can help with her father, that maybe she can fix him. The relationship between her and Bernard is rocky, tenuous. She’s aiming at much bigger things than Bernard’s concerning himself with at the moment. He does his best to look at Peter, to not much avail. The old man’s switching around between old roles, sort of lost in his own programming. It’s all a part of something bigger being masked. He’s a “pawn” in the larger game. No wonder Charlotte’s so curious about his location. In the meantime, the Colonel’s got his men ready with Dolores and her troops. Eventually, men from outside with their new age weaponry and vehicles come flying over the horizon. This almost shocks some of the troops at the fort. Yet the Colonel urges his men to keep shooting, facing them down. At a certain point, Dolores sees Peter being dragged away by Charlotte’s people. She heads straight for them, taking bullets and gunning men into the dirt. She can’t keep her father from being taken. So, she and Teddy are, apparently, going to Sweetwater for her to retrieve something. Aside from that, the Colonel and Craddock’s men are locked out of the fort, gunned down. This also allows Angela (Talulah Riley) time to set off an explosion out there, as well. Nobody’s left alive. There’s tyrannical danger in Dolores right now, all the same. Likewise she’s using Teddy, just like he was used before only to her ends this time. That being said, Teddy refuses to be led entirely, not wanting to be the trigger to a tyrant’s gun, even if it’s on Dolores’s side. At the edges of the river, where the Bengal already washed up, so does Grace, at the feet of the Indigenous warrior tribe. In another place, Lee, Hector, and Maeve come to a snowy spot where a massacre of some kind happened before; Lee finds a decapitated head. Then, in the shadows, a samurai comes rushing. GODDAMN! Don’t you love it? How can you not?

Loved this episode! Again, I love that the universe of Westworld has begun opening up in Season 2, allowing us a glimpse at a fully rounded company in Delos that would, realistically, be doing all they could to milk the capitalist teat of artificial intelligence. Can’t wait for more! Particularly after the samurai turned up at the very end. “The Riddle of the Sphinx” is next time. Westworld – Season 2, Episode 3: “Virtù e Fortuna” HBO's Westworld Season 2, Episode 3: "Virtù e Fortuna" Directed by Richard J. Lewis…

#Bengal Tiger #Consciousness #Delos Destinations #Seven Nation Army #Virtue and Fortune #Westworld

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apocahipster · 7 years

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POST THE R+J SCRIPT

ACT IPROLOGUE

Two households, both alike in dignity,In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.From forth the fatal loins of these two foesA pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsDo with their death bury their parents’ strife.The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,And the continuance of their parents’ rage,Which, but their children’s end, nought could remove,Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;The which if you with patient ears attend,What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

SCENE I. Verona. A public place.

Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers

SAMPSON

Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.

GREGORY

No, for then we should be colliers.

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.

SAMPSON

I strike quickly, being moved.

GREGORY

But thou art not quickly moved to strike.

SAMPSON

A dog of the house of Montague moves me.

GREGORY

To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.

SAMPSON

A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I willtake the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.

GREGORY

That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goesto the wall.

SAMPSON

True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will pushMontague’s men from the wall, and thrust his maidsto the wall.

GREGORY

The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.

SAMPSON

‘Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when Ihave fought with the men, I will be cruel with themaids, and cut off their heads.

GREGORY

The heads of the maids?

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

They must take it in sense that feel it.

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thouhadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comestwo of the house of the Montagues.

SAMPSON

My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.

GREGORY

How! turn thy back and run?

SAMPSON

Fear me not.

GREGORY

No, marry; I fear thee!

SAMPSON

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

GREGORY

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

SAMPSON

Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR

ABRAHAM

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON

I do bite my thumb, sir.

ABRAHAM

Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?

SAMPSON

[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I sayay?

GREGORY

No.

SAMPSON

No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but Ibite my thumb, sir.

GREGORY

Do you quarrel, sir?

ABRAHAM

Quarrel sir! no, sir.

SAMPSON

If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.

ABRAHAM

No better.

SAMPSON

Well, sir.

GREGORY

Say 'better:’ here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.

SAMPSON

Yes, better, sir.

ABRAHAM

You lie.

SAMPSON

They fight

Enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIO

Beats down their swords

Enter TYBALT

TYBALT

What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.

BENVOLIO

I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,Or manage it to part these men with me.

TYBALT

They fight

Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs

First Citizen

Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET

CAPULET

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

LADY CAPULET

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

CAPULET

Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

MONTAGUE

Thou villain Capulet,–Hold me not, let me go.

LADY MONTAGUE

Enter PRINCE, with Attendants

PRINCE

Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO

MONTAGUE

Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?

BENVOLIO

Here were the servants of your adversary,And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:I drew to part them: in the instant cameThe fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,He swung about his head and cut the winds,Who nothing hurt withal hiss’d him in scorn:While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,Came more and more and fought on part and part,Till the prince came, who parted either part.

LADY MONTAGUE

O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?Right glad I am he was not at this fray.

BENVOLIO

Madam, an hour before the worshipp’d sunPeer’d forth the golden window of the east,A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;Where, underneath the grove of sycamoreThat westward rooteth from the city’s side,So early walking did I see your son:Towards him I made, but he was ware of meAnd stole into the covert of the wood:I, measuring his affections by my own,That most are busied when they’re most alone,Pursued my humour not pursuing his,And gladly shunn’d who gladly fled from me.

MONTAGUE

Many a morning hath he there been seen,With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;But all so soon as the all-cheering sunShould in the furthest east begin to drawThe shady curtains from Aurora’s bed,Away from the light steals home my heavy son,And private in his chamber pens himself,Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight outAnd makes himself an artificial night:Black and portentous must this humour prove,Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

BENVOLIO

My noble uncle, do you know the cause?

MONTAGUE

I neither know it nor can learn of him.

BENVOLIO

Have you importuned him by any means?

MONTAGUE

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIO

See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;I’ll know his grievance, or be much denied.

MONTAGUE

Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE

BENVOLIO

Good-morrow, cousin.

ROMEO

Is the day so young?

BENVOLIO

But new struck nine.

ROMEO

Ay me! sad hours seem long.Was that my father that went hence so fast?

BENVOLIO

It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo’s hours?

ROMEO

Not having that, which, having, makes them short.

BENVOLIO

In love?

ROMEO

Out–

BENVOLIO

Of love?

ROMEO

Out of her favour, where I am in love.

BENVOLIO

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!

ROMEO

Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.Here’s much to do with hate, but more with love.Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!O any thing, of nothing first create!O heavy lightness! serious vanity!Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,sick health!Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!This love feel I, that feel no love in this.Dost thou not laugh?

BENVOLIO

No, coz, I rather weep.

ROMEO

Good heart, at what?

BENVOLIO

At thy good heart’s oppression.

ROMEO

Why, such is love’s transgression.Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prestWith more of thine: this love that thou hast shownDoth add more grief to too much of mine own.Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers’ eyes;Being vex’d a sea nourish’d with lovers’ tears:What is it else? a madness most discreet,A choking gall and a preserving sweet.Farewell, my coz.

BENVOLIO

Soft! I will go along;An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.

ROMEO

Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;This is not Romeo, he’s some other where.

BENVOLIO

Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.

ROMEO

What, shall I groan and tell thee?

BENVOLIO

Groan! why, no.But sadly tell me who.

ROMEO

Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.

BENVOLIO

I aim’d so near, when I supposed you loved.

ROMEO

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

BENVOLIO

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

ROMEO

Well, in that hit you miss: she’ll not be hitWith Cupid’s arrow; she hath Dian’s wit;And, in strong proof of chastity well arm’d,From love’s weak childish bow she lives unharm’d.She will not stay the siege of loving terms,Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,That when she dies with beauty dies her store.

BENVOLIO

Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?

ROMEO

She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,For beauty starved with her severityCuts beauty off from all posterity.She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,To merit bliss by making me despair:She hath forsworn to love, and in that vowDo I live dead that live to tell it now.

BENVOLIO

Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.

ROMEO

O, teach me how I should forget to think.

BENVOLIO

By giving liberty unto thine eyes;Examine other beauties.

ROMEO

'Tis the wayTo call hers exquisite, in question more:These happy masks that kiss fair ladies’ browsBeing black put us in mind they hide the fair;He that is strucken blind cannot forgetThe precious treasure of his eyesight lost:Show me a mistress that is passing fair,What doth her beauty serve, but as a noteWhere I may read who pass’d that passing fair?Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.

BENVOLIO

Exeunt

SCENE II. A street.

Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant

CAPULET

But Montague is bound as well as I,In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,For men so old as we to keep the peace.

PARIS

Of honourable reckoning are you both;And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?

CAPULET

But saying o'er what I have said before:My child is yet a stranger in the world;She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,Let two more summers wither in their pride,Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.

PARIS

Younger than she are happy mothers made.

CAPULET

To Servant, giving a paper

Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS

Servant

Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO

BENVOLIO

Tut, man, one fire burns out another’s burning,One pain is lessen’d by another’s anguish;Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;One desperate grief cures with another’s languish:Take thou some new infection to thy eye,And the rank poison of the old will die.

ROMEO

Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.

BENVOLIO

For what, I pray thee?

ROMEO

For your broken shin.

BENVOLIO

Why, Romeo, art thou mad?

ROMEO

Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;Shut up in prison, kept without my food,Whipp’d and tormented and–God-den, good fellow.

Servant

God gi’ god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?

ROMEO

Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.

Servant

Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, Ipray, can you read any thing you see?

ROMEO

Ay, if I know the letters and the language.

Servant

Ye say honestly: rest you merry!

ROMEO

Reads

Servant

Up.

ROMEO

Whither?

Servant

To supper; to our house.

ROMEO

Whose house?

Servant

My master’s.

ROMEO

Indeed, I should have ask’d you that before.

Servant

Exit

BENVOLIO

At this same ancient feast of Capulet’sSups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,With all the admired beauties of Verona:Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,Compare her face with some that I shall show,And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.

ROMEO

When the devout religion of mine eyeMaintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;And these, who often drown’d could never die,Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sunNe'er saw her match since first the world begun.

BENVOLIO

Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,Herself poised with herself in either eye:But in that crystal scales let there be weigh’dYour lady’s love against some other maidThat I will show you shining at this feast,And she shall scant show well that now shows best.

ROMEO

Exeunt

SCENE III. A room in Capulet’s house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

Nurse, where’s my daughter? call her forth to me.

Nurse

Enter JULIET

JULIET

How now! who calls?

Nurse

Your mother.

JULIET

Madam, I am here.What is your will?

LADY CAPULET

This is the matter:–Nurse, give leave awhile,We must talk in secret:–nurse, come back again;I have remember’d me, thou’s hear our counsel.Thou know'st my daughter’s of a pretty age.

Nurse

Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.

LADY CAPULET

She’s not fourteen.

Nurse

I’ll lay fourteen of my teeth,–And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four–She is not fourteen. How long is it nowTo Lammas-tide?

LADY CAPULET

A fortnight and odd days.

Nurse

Even or odd, of all days in the year,Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.Susan and she–God rest all Christian souls!–Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;She was too good for me: but, as I said,On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;That shall she, marry; I remember it well.'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;And she was wean’d,–I never shall forget it,–Of all the days of the year, upon that day:For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;My lord and you were then at Mantua:–Nay, I do bear a brain:–but, as I said,When it did taste the wormwood on the nippleOf my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,To bid me trudge:And since that time it is eleven years;For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,She could have run and waddled all about;For even the day before, she broke her brow:And then my husband–God be with his soul!A’ was a merry man–took up the child:'Yea,’ quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;Wilt thou not, Jule?’ and, by my holidame,The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.’To see, now, how a jest shall come about!I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?’ quoth he;And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.’

LADY CAPULET

Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.

Nurse

Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.’And yet, I warrant, it had upon its browA bump as big as a young cockerel’s stone;A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:'Yea,’ quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;Wilt thou not, Jule?’ it stinted and said 'Ay.’

JULIET

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

Nurse

Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:An I might live to see thee married once,I have my wish.

LADY CAPULET

Marry, that 'marry’ is the very themeI came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,How stands your disposition to be married?

JULIET

It is an honour that I dream not of.

Nurse

An honour! were not I thine only nurse,I would say thou hadst suck’d wisdom from thy teat.

LADY CAPULET

Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,Are made already mothers: by my count,I was your mother much upon these yearsThat you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.

Nurse

A man, young lady! lady, such a manAs all the world–why, he’s a man of wax.

LADY CAPULET

Verona’s summer hath not such a flower.

Nurse

Nay, he’s a flower; in faith, a very flower.

LADY CAPULET

What say you? can you love the gentleman?This night you shall behold him at our feast;Read o'er the volume of young Paris’ face,And find delight writ there with beauty’s pen;Examine every married lineament,And see how one another lends contentAnd what obscured in this fair volume liesFind written in the margent of his eyes.This precious book of love, this unbound lover,To beautify him, only lacks a cover:The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much prideFor fair without the fair within to hide:That book in many’s eyes doth share the glory,That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;So shall you share all that he doth possess,By having him, making yourself no less.

Nurse

No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.

LADY CAPULET

Speak briefly, can you like of Paris’ love?

JULIET

Enter a Servant

Servant

Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, youcalled, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed inthe pantry, and every thing in extremity. I musthence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.

LADY CAPULET

Exit Servant

Nurse

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others

ROMEO

What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?Or shall we on without a apology?

BENVOLIO

The date is out of such prolixity:We’ll have no Cupid hoodwink’d with a scarf,Bearing a Tartar’s painted bow of lath,Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spokeAfter the prompter, for our entrance:But let them measure us by what they will;We’ll measure them a measure, and be gone.

ROMEO

Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;Being but heavy, I will bear the light.

MERCUTIO

Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.

ROMEO

Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoesWith nimble soles: I have a soul of leadSo stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

MERCUTIO

You are a lover; borrow Cupid’s wings,And soar with them above a common bound.

ROMEO

I am too sore enpierced with his shaftTo soar with his light feathers, and so bound,I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:Under love’s heavy burden do I sink.

MERCUTIO

And, to sink in it, should you burden love;Too great oppression for a tender thing.

ROMEO

Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love;Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.Give me a case to put my visage in:A visor for a visor! what care IWhat curious eye doth quote deformities?Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

BENVOLIO

Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,But every man betake him to his legs.

ROMEO

A torch for me: let wantons light of heartTickle the senseless rushes with their heels,For I am proverb’d with a grandsire phrase;I’ll be a candle-holder, and look on.The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.

MERCUTIO

Tut, dun’s the mouse, the constable’s own word:If thou art dun, we’ll draw thee from the mireOf this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'stUp to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

ROMEO

Nay, that’s not so.

MERCUTIO

I mean, sir, in delayWe waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.Take our good meaning, for our judgment sitsFive times in that ere once in our five wits.

ROMEO

And we mean well in going to this mask;But 'tis no wit to go.

MERCUTIO

Why, may one ask?

ROMEO

I dream’d a dream to-night.

MERCUTIO

And so did I.

ROMEO

Well, what was yours?

MERCUTIO

That dreamers often lie.

ROMEO

In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.

MERCUTIO

O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comesIn shape no bigger than an agate-stoneOn the fore-finger of an alderman,Drawn with a team of little atomiesAthwart men’s noses as they lie asleep;Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders’ legs,The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,The traces of the smallest spider’s web,The collars of the moonshine’s watery beams,Her whip of cricket’s bone, the lash of film,Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,Not so big as a round little wormPrick’d from the lazy finger of a maid;Her chariot is an empty hazel-nutMade by the joiner squirrel or old grub,Time out o’ mind the fairies’ coachmakers.And in this state she gallops night by nightThrough lovers’ brains, and then they dream of love;O'er courtiers’ knees, that dream on court'sies straight,O'er lawyers’ fingers, who straight dream on fees,O'er ladies ’ lips, who straight on kisses dream,Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier’s nose,And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig’s tailTickling a parson’s nose as a’ lies asleep,Then dreams, he of another benefice:Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier’s neck,And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anonDrums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,And being thus frighted swears a prayer or twoAnd sleeps again. This is that very MabThat plats the manes of horses in the night,And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,That presses them and learns them first to bear,Making them women of good carriage:This is she–

ROMEO

Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!Thou talk'st of nothing.

MERCUTIO

True, I talk of dreams,Which are the children of an idle brain,Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,Which is as thin of substance as the airAnd more inconstant than the wind, who wooesEven now the frozen bosom of the north,And, being anger’d, puffs away from thence,Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

BENVOLIO

This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

ROMEO

I fear, too early: for my mind misgivesSome consequence yet hanging in the starsShall bitterly begin his fearful dateWith this night’s revels and expire the termOf a despised life closed in my breastBy some vile forfeit of untimely death.But He, that hath the steerage of my course,Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.

BENVOLIO

Exeunt

SCENE V. A hall in Capulet’s house.

Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins

First Servant

Where’s Potpan, that he helps not to take away? Heshift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!

Second Servant

When good manners shall lie all in one or two men’shands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.

First Servant

Away with the joint-stools, remove thecourt-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, saveme a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, letthe porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.Antony, and Potpan!

Second Servant

Ay, boy, ready.

First Servant

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

Second Servant

Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers

CAPULET

Music plays, and they dance

Second Capulet

By'r lady, thirty years.

CAPULET

What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,Come pentecost as quickly as it will,Some five and twenty years; and then we mask’d.

Second Capulet

'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;His son is thirty.

CAPULET

Will you tell me that?His son was but a ward two years ago.

ROMEO

[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which dothenrich the handOf yonder knight?

Servant

I know not, sir.

ROMEO

O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!It seems she hangs upon the cheek of nightLike a rich jewel in an Ethiope’s ear;Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand,And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

TYBALT

This, by his voice, should be a Montague.Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slaveCome hither, cover’d with an antic face,To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.

CAPULET

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

TYBALT

Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,A villain that is hither come in spite,To scorn at our solemnity this night.

CAPULET

Young Romeo is it?

TYBALT

'Tis he, that villain Romeo.

CAPULET

Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;He bears him like a portly gentleman;And, to say truth, Verona brags of himTo be a virtuous and well-govern’d youth:I would not for the wealth of all the townHere in my house do him disparagement:Therefore be patient, take no note of him:It is my will, the which if thou respect,Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.

TYBALT

It fits, when such a villain is a guest:I’ll not endure him.

CAPULET

He shall be endured:What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;Am I the master here, or you? go to.You’ll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!You’ll make a mutiny among my guests!You will set cock-a-hoop! you’ll be the man!

TYBALT

Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.

CAPULET

Go to, go to;You are a saucy boy: is’t so, indeed?This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:Be quiet, or–More light, more light! For shame!I’ll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!

TYBALT

Exit

ROMEO

[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest handThis holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready standTo smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

JULIET

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,Which mannerly devotion shows in this;For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

ROMEO

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

JULIET

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

ROMEO

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

JULIET

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.

ROMEO

Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

JULIET

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

ROMEO

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!Give me my sin again.

JULIET

You kiss by the book.

Nurse

Madam, your mother craves a word with you.

ROMEO

What is her mother?

Nurse

Marry, bachelor,Her mother is the lady of the house,And a good lady, and a wise and virtuousI nursed her daughter, that you talk’d withal;I tell you, he that can lay hold of herShall have the chinks.

ROMEO

Is she a Capulet?O dear account! my life is my foe’s debt.

BENVOLIO

Away, begone; the sport is at the best.

ROMEO

Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.

CAPULET

Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse

JULIET

Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?

Nurse

The son and heir of old Tiberio.

JULIET

What’s he that now is going out of door?

Nurse

Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.

JULIET

What’s he that follows there, that would not dance?

Nurse

I know not.

JULIET

Go ask his name: if he be married.My grave is like to be my wedding bed.

Nurse

His name is Romeo, and a Montague;The only son of your great enemy.

JULIET

My only love sprung from my only hate!Too early seen unknown, and known too late!Prodigious birth of love it is to me,That I must love a loathed enemy.

Nurse

What’s this? what’s this?

JULIET

One calls within 'Juliet.’

Nurse

Exeunt

ACT IIPROLOGUE

Enter Chorus

Chorus

Exit

SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet’s orchard.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

BENVOLIO

Romeo! my cousin Romeo!

MERCUTIO

He is wise;And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.

BENVOLIO

He ran this way, and leap’d this orchard wall:Call, good Mercutio.

MERCUTIO

Nay, I’ll conjure too.Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;Cry but 'Ay me!’ pronounce but 'love’ and 'dove;’Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.I conjure thee by Rosaline’s bright eyes,By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thighAnd the demesnes that there adjacent lie,That in thy likeness thou appear to us!

BENVOLIO

And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.

MERCUTIO

This cannot anger him: 'twould anger himTo raise a spirit in his mistress’ circleOf some strange nature, letting it there standTill she had laid it and conjured it down;That were some spite: my invocationIs fair and honest, and in his mistres s’ nameI conjure only but to raise up him.

BENVOLIO

Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,To be consorted with the humorous night:Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

MERCUTIO

If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.Now will he sit under a medlar tree,And wish his mistress were that kind of fruitAs maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.Romeo, that she were, O, that she wereAn open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!Romeo, good night: I’ll to my truckle-bed;This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:Come, shall we go?

BENVOLIO

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet’s orchard.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

JULIET appears above at a window

JULIET

Ay me!

ROMEO

She speaks:O, speak again, bright angel! for thou artAs glorious to this night, being o'er my headAs is a winged messenger of heavenUnto the white-upturned wondering eyesOf mortals that fall back to gaze on himWhen he bestrides the lazy-pacing cloudsAnd sails upon the bosom of the air.

JULIET

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?Deny thy father and refuse thy name;Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

ROMEO

[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?

JULIET

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.What’s Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,Nor arm, nor face, nor any other partBelonging to a man. O, be some other name!What’s in a name? that which we call a roseBy any other name would smell as sweet;So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d,Retain that dear perfection which he owesWithout that title. Romeo, doff thy name,And for that name which is no part of theeTake all myself.

ROMEO

I take thee at thy word:Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized;Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

JULIET

What man art thou that thus bescreen’d in nightSo stumblest on my counsel?

ROMEO

By a nameI know not how to tell thee who I am:My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,Because it is an enemy to thee;Had I it written, I would tear the word.

JULIET

My ears have not yet drunk a hundred wordsOf that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound:Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?

ROMEO

Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

JULIET

How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,And the place death, considering who thou art,If any of my kinsmen find thee here.

ROMEO

With love’s light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;For stony limits cannot hold love out,And what love can do that dares love attempt;Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

JULIET

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

ROMEO

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eyeThan twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,And I am proof against their enmity.

JULIET

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

ROMEO

I have night’s cloak to hide me from their sight;And but thou love me, let them find me here:My life were better ended by their hate,Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

JULIET

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

ROMEO

By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as farAs that vast shore wash’d with the farthest sea,I would adventure for such merchandise.

JULIET

Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheekFor that which thou hast heard me speak to-nightFain would I dwell on form, fain, fain denyWhat I have spoke: but farewell compliment!Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,’And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,Thou mayst prove false; at lovers’ perjuriesThen say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,I’ll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:But trust me, gentleman, I’ll prove more trueThan those that have more cunning to be strange.I should have been more strange, I must confess,But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,My true love’s passion: therefore pardon me,And not impute this yielding to light love,Which the dark night hath so discovered.

ROMEO

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swearThat tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops–

JULIET

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,That monthly changes in her circled orb,Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

ROMEO

What shall I swear by?

JULIET

Do not swear at all;Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,Which is the god of my idolatry,And I’ll believe thee.

ROMEO

If my heart’s dear love–

JULIET

Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,I have no joy of this contract to-night:It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;Too like the lightning, which doth cease to beEre one can say 'It lightens.’ Sweet, good night!This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.Good night, good night! as sweet repose and restCome to thy heart as that within my breast!

ROMEO

O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

JULIET

What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

ROMEO

The exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine.

JULIET

I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:And yet I would it were to give again.

ROMEO

Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

JULIET

Nurse calls within

Exit, above

ROMEO

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIET

Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.If that thy bent of love be honourable,Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,By one that I’ll procure to come to thee,Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;And all my fortunes at thy foot I’ll layAnd follow thee my lord throughout the world.

Nurse

[Within] Madam!

JULIET

I come, anon.–But if thou mean'st not well,I do beseech thee–

Nurse

[Within] Madam!

JULIET

By and by, I come:–To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:To-morrow will I send.

ROMEO

So thrive my soul–

JULIET

Exit, above

ROMEO

Retiring

Re-enter JULIET, above

JULIET

Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer’s voice,To lure this tassel-gentle back again!Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,With repetition of my Romeo’s name.

ROMEO

It is my soul that calls upon my name:How silver-sweet sound lovers’ tongues by night,Like softest music to attending ears!

JULIET

Romeo!

ROMEO

My dear?

JULIET

At what o'clock to-morrowShall I send to thee?

ROMEO

At the hour of nine.

JULIET

I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.I have forgot why I did call thee back.

ROMEO

Let me stand here till thou remember it.

JULIET

I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,Remembering how I love thy company.

ROMEO

And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget,Forgetting any other home but this.

JULIET

'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:And yet no further than a wanton’s bird;Who lets it hop a little from her hand,Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,And with a silk thread plucks it back again,So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ROMEO

I would I were thy bird.

JULIET

Exit above

ROMEO

Exit

SCENE III. Friar Laurence’s cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket

FRIAR LAURENCE

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Good morrow, father.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Benedicite!What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?Young son, it argues a distemper’d headSo soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:Care keeps his watch in every old man’s eye,And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;But where unbruised youth with unstuff’d brainDoth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:Therefore thy earliness doth me assureThou art up-roused by some distemperature;Or if not so, then here I hit it right,Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.

ROMEO

That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?

ROMEO

With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;I have forgot that name, and that name’s woe.

FRIAR LAURENCE

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

ROMEO

I’ll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.I have been feasting with mine enemy,Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,That’s by me wounded: both our remediesWithin thy help and holy physic lies:I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,My intercession likewise steads my foe.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

ROMEO

Then plainly know my heart’s dear love is setOn the fair daughter of rich Capulet:As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;And all combined, save what thou must combineBy holy marriage: when and where and howWe met, we woo’d and made exchange of vow,I’ll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,That thou consent to marry us to-day.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,So soon forsaken? young men’s love then liesNot truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.Jesu Maria, what a deal of brineHath wash’d thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!How much salt water thrown away in waste,To season love, that of it doth not taste!The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sitOf an old tear that is not wash’d off yet:If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men.

ROMEO

Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.

FRIAR LAURENCE

For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.

ROMEO

And bad'st me bury love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Not in a grave,To lay one in, another out to have.

ROMEO

I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love nowDoth grace for grace and love for love allow;The other did not so.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O, she knew wellThy love did read by rote and could not spell.But come, young waverer, come, go with me,In one respect I’ll thy assistant be;For this alliance may so happy prove,To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.

ROMEO

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

FRIAR LAURENCE

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A street.

Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO

MERCUTIO

Where the devil should this Romeo be?Came he not home to-night?

BENVOLIO

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

MERCUTIO

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

BENVOLIO

Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,Hath sent a letter to his father’s house.

MERCUTIO

A challenge, on my life.

BENVOLIO

Romeo will answer it.

MERCUTIO

Any man that can write may answer a letter.

BENVOLIO

Nay, he will answer the letter’s master, how hedares, being dared.

MERCUTIO

Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with awhite wench’s black eye; shot through the ear with alove-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with theblind bow-boy’s butt-shaft: and is he a man toencounter Tybalt?

BENVOLIO

Why, what is Tybalt?

MERCUTIO

More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he isthe courageous captain of compliments. He fights asyou sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, andproportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, andthe third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silkbutton, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of thevery first house, of the first and second cause:ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! thehai!

BENVOLIO

The what?

MERCUTIO

Enter ROMEO

BENVOLIO

Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.

MERCUTIO

Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbersthat Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but akitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love tobe-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a greyeye or so, but not to the purpose. SigniorRomeo, bon jour! there’s a French salutationto your French slop. You gave us the counterfeitfairly last night.

ROMEO

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

MERCUTIO

The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?

ROMEO

Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and insuch a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.

MERCUTIO

That’s as much as to say, such a case as yoursconstrains a man to bow in the hams.

ROMEO

Meaning, to court'sy.

MERCUTIO

Thou hast most kindly hit it.

ROMEO

A most courteous exposition.

MERCUTIO

Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

ROMEO

Pink for flower.

MERCUTIO

Right.

ROMEO

Why, then is my pump well flowered.

MERCUTIO

Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hastworn out thy pump, that when the single sole of itis worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.

ROMEO

O single-soled jest, solely singular for thesingleness.

MERCUTIO

Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.

ROMEO

Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I’ll cry a match.

MERCUTIO

Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I havedone, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one ofthy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:was I with you there for the goose?

ROMEO

Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wastnot there for the goose.

MERCUTIO

I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.

ROMEO

Nay, good goose, bite not.

MERCUTIO

Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a mostsharp sauce.

ROMEO

And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?

MERCUTIO

O here’s a wit of cheveril, that stretches from aninch narrow to an ell broad!

ROMEO

I stretch it out for that word 'broad;’ which addedto the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

MERCUTIO

Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now artthou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:for this drivelling love is like a great natural,that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.

BENVOLIO

Stop there, stop there.

MERCUTIO

Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.

BENVOLIO

Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.

MERCUTIO

O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; andmeant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.

ROMEO

Enter Nurse and PETER

MERCUTIO

A sail, a sail!

BENVOLIO

Two, two; a shirt and a smock.

Nurse

Peter!

PETER

Anon!

Nurse

My fan, Peter.

MERCUTIO

Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan’s thefairer face.

Nurse

God ye good morrow, gentlemen.

MERCUTIO

God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.

Nurse

Is it good den?

MERCUTIO

'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of thedial is now upon the prick of noon.

Nurse

Out upon you! what a man are you!

ROMEO

One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself tomar.

Nurse

By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,’quoth a’? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where Imay find the young Romeo?

ROMEO

I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older whenyou have found him than he was when you sought him:I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.

Nurse

You say well.

MERCUTIO

Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i’ faith;wisely, wisely.

Nurse

if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence withyou.

BENVOLIO

She will indite him to some supper.

MERCUTIO

A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!

ROMEO

What hast thou found?

MERCUTIO

Sings

ROMEO

I will follow you.

MERCUTIO

Singing

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

Nurse

Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucymerchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?

ROMEO

A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,and will speak more in a minute than he will standto in a month.

Nurse

An a’ speak any thing against me, I’ll take himdown, an a’ were lustier than he is, and twenty suchJacks; and if I cannot, I’ll find those that shall.Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I amnone of his skains-mates. And thou must stand bytoo, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?

PETER

I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weaponshould quickly have been out, I warrant you: I daredraw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in agood quarrel, and the law on my side.

Nurse

Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part aboutme quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire youout; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her intoa fool’s paradise, as they say, it were a very grosskind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewomanis young; and, therefore, if you should deal doublewith her, truly it were an ill thing to be offeredto any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.

ROMEO

Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. Iprotest unto thee–

Nurse

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

ROMEO

What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.

Nurse

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

ROMEO

Bid her deviseSome means to come to shrift this afternoon;And there she shall at Friar Laurence’ cellBe shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.

Nurse

No truly sir; not a penny.

ROMEO

Go to; I say you shall.

Nurse

This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.

ROMEO

And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:Within this hour my man shall be with theeAnd bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;Which to the high top-gallant of my joyMust be my convoy in the secret night.Farewell; be trusty, and I’ll quit thy pains:Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.

Nurse

Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.

ROMEO

What say'st thou, my dear nurse?

Nurse

Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

ROMEO

I warrant thee, my man’s as true as steel.

NURSE

Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady–Lord,Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:–O, thereis a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fainlay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as liefsee a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger hersometimes and tell her that Paris is the propererman; but, I’ll warrant you, when I say so, she looksas pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth notrosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

ROMEO

Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.

Nurse

Ah. mocker! that’s the dog’s name; R is forthe–No; I know it begins with some otherletter:–and she hath the prettiest sententious ofit, of you and rosemary, that it would do you goodto hear it.

ROMEO

Commend me to thy lady.

Nurse

Exit Romeo

PETER

Anon!

Nurse

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet’s orchard.

Enter JULIET

JULIET

Enter Nurse and PETER

Nurse

Exit PETER

JULIET

Now, good sweet nurse,–O Lord, why look'st thou sad?Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;If good, thou shamest the music of sweet newsBy playing it to me with so sour a face.

Nurse

I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!

JULIET

I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.

Nurse

Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?Do you not see that I am out of breath?

JULIET

How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breathTo say to me that thou art out of breath?The excuse that thou dost make in this delayIs longer than the tale thou dost excuse.Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;Say either, and I’ll stay the circumstance:Let me be satisfied, is’t good or bad?

Nurse

Well, you have made a simple choice; you know nothow to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though hisface be better than any man’s, yet his leg excelsall men’s; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,though they be not to be talked on, yet they arepast compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,but, I’ll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thyways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?

JULIET

No, no: but all this did I know before.What says he of our marriage? what of that?

Nurse

Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.My back o’ t’ other side,–O, my back, my back!Beshrew your heart for sending me about,To catch my death with jaunting up and down!

JULIET

I’ faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

Nurse

Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and acourteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, Iwarrant, a virtuous,–Where is your mother?

JULIET

Where is my mother! why, she is within;Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,Where is your mother?’

Nurse

O God’s lady dear!Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;Is this the poultice for my aching bones?Henceforward do your messages yourself.

JULIET

Here’s such a coil! come, what says Romeo?

Nurse

Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?

JULIET

I have.

Nurse

Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence’ cell;There stays a husband to make you a wife:Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,They’ll be in scarlet straight at any news.Hie you to church; I must another way,To fetch a ladder, by the which your loveMust climb a bird’s nest soon when it is dark:I am the drudge and toil in your delight,But you shall bear the burden soon at night.Go; I’ll to dinner: hie you to the cell.

JULIET

Exeunt

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence’s cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO

FRIAR LAURENCE

So smile the heavens upon this holy act,That after hours with sorrow chide us not!

ROMEO

Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,It cannot countervail the exchange of joyThat one short minute gives me in her sight:Do thou but close our hands with holy words,Then love-devouring death do what he dare;It is enough I may but call her mine.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Enter JULIET

JULIET

Good even to my ghostly confessor.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.

JULIET

As much to him, else is his thanks too much.

ROMEO

Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joyBe heap’d like mine and that thy skill be moreTo blazon it, then sweeten with thy breathThis neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongueUnfold the imagined happiness that bothReceive in either by this dear encounter.

JULIET

Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,Brags of his substance, not of ornament:They are but beggars that can count their worth;But my true love is grown to such excessI cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Exeunt

ACT IIISCENE I. A public place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants

BENVOLIO

I pray thee, good Mercutio, let’s retire:The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

MERCUTIO

Thou art like one of those fellows that when heenters the confines of a tavern claps me his swordupon the table and says 'God send me no need ofthee!’ and by the operation of the second cup drawsit on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

BENVOLIO

Am I like such a fellow?

MERCUTIO

Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood asany in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and assoon moody to be moved.

BENVOLIO

And what to?

MERCUTIO

Nay, an there were two such, we should have noneshortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why,thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thouwilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having noother reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: whateye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full ofmeat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle asan egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with aman for coughing in the street, because he hathwakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearinghis new doublet before Easter? with another, fortying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thouwilt tutor me from quarrelling!

BENVOLIO

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

MERCUTIO

The fee-simple! O simple!

BENVOLIO

By my head, here come the Capulets.

MERCUTIO

Enter TYBALT and others

TYBALT

Follow me close, for I will speak to them.Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.

MERCUTIO

And but one word with one of us? couple it withsomething; make it a word and a blow.

TYBALT

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an youwill give me occasion.

MERCUTIO

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

TYBALT

Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,–

MERCUTIO

Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? anthou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing butdiscords: here’s my fiddlestick; here’s that shallmake you dance. 'Zounds, consort!

BENVOLIO

We talk here in the public haunt of men:Either withdraw unto some private place,And reason coldly of your grievances,Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.

MERCUTIO

Enter ROMEO

TYBALT

Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.

MERCUTIO

But I’ll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:Marry, go before to field, he’ll be your follower;Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.’

TYBALT

Romeo, the hate I bear thee can affordNo better term than this,–thou art a villain.

ROMEO

Tybalt, the reason that I have to love theeDoth much excuse the appertaining rageTo such a greeting: villain am I none;Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.

TYBALT

Boy, this shall not excuse the injuriesThat thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.

ROMEO

I do protest, I never injured thee,But love thee better than thou canst devise,Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:And so, good Capulet,–which name I tenderAs dearly as my own,–be satisfied.

MERCUTIO

Draws

TYBALT

What wouldst thou have with me?

MERCUTIO

Good king of cats, nothing but one of your ninelives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as youshall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of theeight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcherby the ears? make haste, lest mine be about yourears ere it be out.

TYBALT

Drawing

ROMEO

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

MERCUTIO

They fight

ROMEO

TYBALT under ROMEO’s arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers

MERCUTIO

I am hurt.A plague o’ both your houses! I am sped.Is he gone, and hath nothing?

BENVOLIO

What, art thou hurt?

MERCUTIO

Exit Page

ROMEO

Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

MERCUTIO

No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as achurch-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask forme to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. Iam peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o’both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, acat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, arogue, a villain, that fights by the book ofarithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? Iwas hurt under your arm.

ROMEO

I thought all for the best.

MERCUTIO

Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO

ROMEO

Re-enter BENVOLIO

BENVOLIO

O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio’s dead!That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

ROMEO

This day’s black fate on more days doth depend;This but begins the woe, others must end.

BENVOLIO

Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

ROMEO

Re-enter TYBALT

TYBALT

Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,Shalt with him hence.

ROMEO

They fight; TYBALT falls

BENVOLIO

Romeo, away, be gone!The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!

ROMEO

O, I am fortune’s fool!

BENVOLIO

Exit ROMEO

Enter Citizens, & c

First Citizen

Which way ran he that kill’d Mercutio?Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

BENVOLIO

There lies that Tybalt.

First Citizen

Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others

PRINCE

Where are the vile beginners of this fray?

BENVOLIO

O noble prince, I can discover allThe unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

LADY CAPULET

Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother’s child!O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spiltO my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.O cousin, cousin!

PRINCE

Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

BENVOLIO

Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo’s hand did slay;Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethinkHow nice the quarrel was, and urged withalYour high displeasure: all this utteredWith gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow’d,Could not take truce with the unruly spleenOf Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tiltsWith piercing steel at bold Mercutio’s breast,Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beatsCold death aside, and with the other sendsIt back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,'Hold, friends! friends, part!’ and, swifter thanhis tongue,His agile arm beats down their fatal points,And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose armAn envious thrust from Tybalt hit the lifeOf stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;But by and by comes back to Romeo,Who had but newly entertain’d revenge,And to ’t they go like lightning, for, ere ICould draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

LADY CAPULET

He is a kinsman to the Montague;Affection makes him false; he speaks not true:Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,And all those twenty could but kill one life.I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

PRINCE

Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

MONTAGUE

Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio’s friend;His fault concludes but what the law should end,The life of Tybalt.

PRINCE

Exeunt

SCENE II. Capulet’s orchard.

Enter JULIET

JULIET

Enter Nurse, with cords

Nurse

Throws them down

JULIET

Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?

Nurse

Ah, well-a-day! he’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead!We are undone, lady, we are undone!Alack the day! he’s gone, he’s kill’d, he’s dead!

JULIET

Can heaven be so envious?

Nurse

Romeo can,Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

JULIET

What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?This torture should be roar’d in dismal hell.Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,’And that bare vowel 'I’ shall poison moreThan the death-darting eye of cockatrice:I am not I, if there be such an I;Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.’If he be slain, say 'I’; or if not, no:Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

Nurse

I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,–God save the mark!–here on his manly breast:A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub’d in blood,All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.

JULIET

O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

Nurse

O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!That ever I should live to see thee dead!

JULIET

What storm is this that blows so contrary?Is Romeo slaughter’d, and is Tybalt dead?My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse

Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;Romeo that kill’d him, he is banished.

JULIET

O God! did Romeo’s hand shed Tybalt’s blood?

Nurse

It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

JULIET

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!Dove-feather’d raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!Despised substance of divinest show!Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,A damned saint, an honourable villain!O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiendIn moral paradise of such sweet flesh?Was ever book containing such vile matterSo fairly bound? O that deceit should dwellIn such a gorgeous palace!

Nurse

There’s no trust,No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.Ah, where’s my man? give me some aqua vitae:These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.Shame come to Romeo!

JULIET

Blister’d be thy tongueFor such a wish! he was not born to shame:Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown’dSole monarch of the universal earth.O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

Nurse

Will you speak well of him that kill’d your cousin?

JULIET

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?That villain cousin would have kill’d my husband:Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;Your tributary drops belong to woe,Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband:All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death,That murder’d me: I would forget it fain;But, O, it presses to my memory,Like damned guilty deeds to sinners’ minds:'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo–banished;’That 'banished,’ that one word 'banished,’Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt’s deathWas woe enough, if it had ended there:Or, if sour woe delights in fellowshipAnd needly will be rank’d with other griefs,Why follow’d not, when she said 'Tybalt’s dead,’Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,Which modern lamentations might have moved?But with a rear-ward following Tybalt’s death,'Romeo is banished,’ to speak that word,Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!’There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,In that word’s death; no words can that woe sound.Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

Nurse

Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse:Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

JULIET

Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,When theirs are dry, for Romeo’s banishment.Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:He made you for a highway to my bed;But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.Come, cords, come, nurse; I’ll to my wedding-bed;And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

Nurse

Hie to your chamber: I’ll find RomeoTo comfort you: I wot well where he is.Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:I’ll to him; he is hid at Laurence’ cell.

JULIET

Exeunt

SCENE III. Friar Laurence’s cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR LAURENCE

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Father, what news? what is the prince’s doom?What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,That I yet know not?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Too familiarIs my dear son with such sour company:I bring thee tidings of the prince’s doom.

ROMEO

What less than dooms-day is the prince’s doom?

FRIAR LAURENCE

A gentler judgment vanish’d from his lips,Not body’s death, but body’s banishment.

ROMEO

Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;’For exile hath more terror in his look,Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.’

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hence from Verona art thou banished:Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

ROMEO

There is no world without Verona walls,But purgatory, torture, hell itself.Hence-banished is banish’d from the world,And world’s exile is death: then banished,Is death mis-term’d: calling death banishment,Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,Taking thy part, hath rush’d aside the law,And turn’d that black word death to banishment:This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

ROMEO

'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dogAnd little mouse, every unworthy thing,Live here in heaven and may look on her;But Romeo may not: more validity,More honourable state, more courtship livesIn carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seizeOn the white wonder of dear Juliet’s handAnd steal immortal blessing from her lips,Who even in pure and vestal modesty,Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;But Romeo may not; he is banished:Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:They are free men, but I am banished.And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife,No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,But 'banished’ to kill me?–'banished’?O friar, the damned use that word in hell;Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,A sin-absolver, and my friend profess’d,To mangle me with that word 'banished’?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.

ROMEO

O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I’ll give thee armour to keep off that word:Adversity’s sweet milk, philosophy,To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

ROMEO

Yet 'banished’? Hang up philosophy!Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,Displant a town, reverse a prince’s doom,It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.

FRIAR LAURENCE

O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

ROMEO

How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

FRIAR LAURENCE

Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

ROMEO

Knocking within

FRIAR LAURENCE

Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.

ROMEO

Knocking

FRIAR LAURENCE

Knocking

Nurse

[Within] Let me come in, and you shall knowmy errand;I come from Lady Juliet.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Enter Nurse

Nurse

O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,Where is my lady’s lord, where’s Romeo?

FRIAR LAURENCE

There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

Nurse

O, he is even in my mistress’ case,Just in her case! O woful sympathy!Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:For Juliet’s sake, for her sake, rise and stand;Why should you fall into so deep an O?

ROMEO

Nurse!

Nurse

Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death’s the end of all.

ROMEO

Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?Doth she not think me an old murderer,Now I have stain’d the childhood of our joyWith blood removed but little from her own?Where is she? and how doth she? and what saysMy conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?

Nurse

O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,And then down falls again.

ROMEO

Drawing his sword

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold thy desperate hand:Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denoteThe unreasonable fury of a beast:Unseemly woman in a seeming man!Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,I thought thy disposition better temper’d.Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?And stay thy lady too that lives in thee,By doing damned hate upon thyself?Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meetIn thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,And usest none in that true use indeedWhich should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,Digressing from the valour of a man;Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,Killing that love which thou hast vow’d to cherish;Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,Misshapen in the conduct of them both,Like powder in a skitless soldier’s flask,Is set afire by thine own ignorance,And thou dismember’d with thine own defence.What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:The law that threaten’d death becomes thy friendAnd turns it to exile; there art thou happy:A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;Happiness courts thee in her best array;But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:But look thou stay not till the watch be set,For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;Where thou shalt live, till we can find a timeTo blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee backWith twenty hundred thousand times more joyThan thou went'st forth in lamentation.Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;And bid her hasten all the house to bed,Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:Romeo is coming.

Nurse

O Lord, I could have stay’d here all the nightTo hear good counsel: O, what learning is!My lord, I’ll tell my lady you will come.

ROMEO

Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

Nurse

Exit

ROMEO

How well my comfort is revived by this!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:Either be gone before the watch be set,Or by the break of day disguised from hence:Sojourn in Mantua; I’ll find out your man,And he shall signify from time to timeEvery good hap to you that chances here:Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.

ROMEO

Exeunt

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet’s house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS

CAPULET

Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,That we have had no time to move our daughter:Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,And so did I:–Well, we were born to die.'Tis very late, she’ll not come down to-night:I promise you, but for your company,I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

PARIS

These times of woe afford no time to woo.Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.

LADY CAPULET

I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;To-night she is mew’d up to her heaviness.

CAPULET

Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tenderOf my child’s love: I think she will be ruledIn all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;Acquaint her here of my son Paris’ love;And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next–But, soft! what day is this?

PARIS

Monday, my lord,

CAPULET

Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,O’ Thursday let it be: o’ Thursday, tell her,She shall be married to this noble earl.Will you be ready? do you like this haste?We’ll keep no great ado,–a friend or two;For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,It may be thought we held him carelessly,Being our kinsman, if we revel much:Therefore we’ll have some half a dozen friends,And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?

PARIS

My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.

CAPULET

Exeunt

SCENE V. Capulet’s orchard.

Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window

JULIET

Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:It was the nightingale, and not the lark,That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

ROMEO

It was the lark, the herald of the morn,No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaksDo lace the severing clouds in yonder east:Night’s candles are burnt out, and jocund dayStands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

JULIET

Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:It is some meteor that the sun exhales,To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,And light thee on thy way to Mantua:Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.

ROMEO

Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;I am content, so thou wilt have it so.I’ll say yon grey is not the morning’s eye,'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia’s brow;Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beatThe vaulty heaven so high above our heads:I have more care to stay than will to go:Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.How is’t, my soul? let’s talk; it is not day.

JULIET

It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!It is the lark that sings so out of tune,Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.Some say the lark makes sweet division;This doth not so, for she divideth us:Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,O, now I would they had changed voices too!Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,Hunting thee hence with hunt’s-up to the day,O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.

ROMEO

Enter Nurse, to the chamber

Nurse

Madam!

JULIET

Nurse?

Nurse

Exit

JULIET

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

ROMEO

He goeth down

JULIET

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 yearsEre I again behold my Romeo!

ROMEO

Farewell!I will omit no opportunityThat may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

JULIET

O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

ROMEO

I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serveFor sweet discourses in our time to come.

JULIET

O God, I have an ill-divining soul!Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

ROMEO

Exit

JULIET

O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.That is renown’d for faith? Be fickle, fortune;For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,But send him back.

LADY CAPULET

[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up?

JULIET

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

Why, how now, Juliet!

JULIET

Madam, I am not well.

LADY CAPULET

Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death?What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?An 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.

JULIET

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

LADY CAPULET

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friendWhich you weep for.

JULIET

Feeling so the loss,Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

LADY CAPULET

Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,As that the villain lives which slaughter’d him.

JULIET

What villain madam?

LADY CAPULET

That same villain, Romeo.

JULIET

[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.–God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

LADY CAPULET

That is, because the traitor murderer lives.

JULIET

Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:Would none but I might venge my cousin’s death!

LADY CAPULET

We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:Then weep no more. I’ll send to one in Mantua,Where that same banish’d runagate doth live,Shall give him such an unaccustom’d dram,That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

JULIET

Indeed, I never shall be satisfiedWith Romeo, till I behold him–dead–Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex’d.Madam, if you could find out but a manTo bear a poison, I would temper it;That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhorsTo hear him named, and cannot come to him.To wreak the love I bore my cousinUpon his body that slaughter’d him!

LADY CAPULET

Find thou the means, and I’ll find such a man.But now I’ll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

JULIET

And joy comes well in such a needy time:What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

LADY CAPULET

Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,That thou expect'st not nor I look’d not for.

JULIET

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

LADY CAPULET

Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,The gallant, young and noble gentleman,The County Paris, at Saint Peter’s Church,Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

JULIET

Now, by Saint Peter’s Church and Peter too,He shall not make me there a joyful bride.I wonder at this haste; that I must wedEre 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,It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!

LADY CAPULET

Enter CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULET

When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;But for the sunset of my brother’s sonIt rains downright.How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?Evermore showering? In one little bodyThou counterfeit'st 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,Without a sudden calm, will oversetThy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!Have you deliver’d to her our decree?

LADY CAPULET

Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.I would the fool were married to her grave!

CAPULET

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 blest,Unworthy as she is, that we have wroughtSo worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

JULIET

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.

CAPULET

How now, how now, chop-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,To go with Paris to Saint Peter’s Church,Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!You tallow-face!

LADY CAPULET

Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

JULIET

Good father, I beseech you on my knees,Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

CAPULET

Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!I tell thee what: get thee to church o’ Thursday,Or never after look me in the face:Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blestThat 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:Out on her, hilding!

Nurse

God in heaven bless her!You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

CAPULET

And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.

Nurse

I speak no treason.

CAPULET

O, God ye god-den.

Nurse

May not one speak?

CAPULET

Peace, you mumbling fool!Utter your gravity o'er a gossip’s bowl;For here we need it not.

LADY CAPULET

You are too hot.

CAPULET

Exit

JULIET

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,That sees into the bottom of my grief?O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!Delay this marriage for a month, a week;Or, if you do not, make the bridal bedIn that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

LADY CAPULET

Exit

JULIET

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,Unless that husband send it me from heavenBy leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagemsUpon so soft a subject as myself!What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?Some comfort, nurse.

Nurse

Faith, here it is.Romeo is banish’d; 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.Then, 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 eyeAs 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.

JULIET

Speakest thou from thy heart?

Nurse

And from my soul too;Or else beshrew them both.

JULIET

Amen!

Nurse

What?

JULIET

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,Having displeased my father, to Laurence’ cell,To make confession and to be absolved.

Nurse

Exit

JULIET

Exit

ACT IVSCENE I. Friar Laurence’s cell.

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS

FRIAR LAURENCE

On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.

PARIS

My father Capulet will have it so;And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

You say you do not know the lady’s mind:Uneven is the course, I like it not.

PARIS

Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt’s death,And therefore have I little talk’d of love;For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.Now, sir, her father counts it dangerousThat she doth give her sorrow so much sway,And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,To stop the inundation of her tears;Which, too much minded by herself alone,May be put from her by society:Now do you know the reason of this haste.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Enter JULIET

PARIS

Happily met, my lady and my wife!

JULIET

That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.

PARIS

That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.

JULIET

What must be shall be.

FRIAR LAURENCE

That’s a certain text.

PARIS

Come you to make confession to this father?

JULIET

To answer that, I should confess to you.

PARIS

Do not deny to him that you love me.

JULIET

I will confess to you that I love him.

PARIS

So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.

JULIET

If I do so, it will be of more price,Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.

PARIS

Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.

JULIET

The tears have got small victory by that;For it was bad enough before their spite.

PARIS

Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.

JULIET

That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

PARIS

Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander’d it.

JULIET

It may be so, for it is not mine own.Are you at leisure, holy father, now;Or shall I come to you at evening mass?

FRIAR LAURENCE

My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.My lord, we must entreat the time alone.

PARIS

Exit

JULIET

O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;It strains me past the compass of my wits:I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,On Thursday next be married to this county.

JULIET

Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,Do thou but call my resolution wise,And with this knife I’ll help it presently.God join’d my heart and Romeo’s, thou our hands;And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal’d,Shall be the label to another deed,Or my true heart with treacherous revoltTurn to another, this shall slay them both:Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,Give me some present counsel, or, behold,'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knifeShall play the umpire, arbitrating thatWhich the commission of thy years and artCould to no issue of true honour bring.Be not so long to speak; I long to die,If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,Which craves as desperate an execution.As that is desperate which we would prevent.If, rather than to marry County Paris,Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,Then is it likely thou wilt undertakeA thing like death to chide away this shame,That copest with death himself to scape from it:And, if thou darest, I’ll give thee remedy.

JULIET

O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,From off the battlements of yonder tower;Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurkWhere serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,O'er-cover’d quite with dead men’s rattling bones,With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;Or bid me go into a new-made graveAnd hide me with a dead man in his shroud;Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;And I will do it without fear or doubt,To live an unstain’d wife to my sweet love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consentTo marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow:To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:Take thou this vial, being then in bed,And this distilled liquor drink thou off;When presently through all thy veins shall runA cold and drowsy humour, for no pulseShall keep his native progress, but surcease:No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fadeTo paly ashes, thy eyes’ windows fall,Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;Each part, deprived of supple government,Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:And in this borrow’d likeness of shrunk deathThou shalt continue two and forty hours,And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comesTo rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:Then, as the manner of our country is,In thy best robes uncover’d on the bierThou shalt be borne to that same ancient vaultWhere all the kindred of the Capulets lie.In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,And hither shall he come: and he and IWill watch thy waking, and that very nightShall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.And this shall free thee from this present shame;If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,Abate thy valour in the acting it.

JULIET

Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!

FRIAR LAURENCE

Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperousIn this resolve: I’ll send a friar with speedTo Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.

JULIET

Exeunt

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet’s house.

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen

CAPULET

Exit First Servant

Second Servant

You shall have none ill, sir; for I’ll try if theycan lick their fingers.

CAPULET

How canst thou try them so?

Second Servant

Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick hisown fingers: therefore he that cannot lick hisfingers goes not with me.

CAPULET

Exit Second Servant

Nurse

Ay, forsooth.

CAPULET

Well, he may chance to do some good on her:A peevish self-will’d harlotry it is.

Nurse

Enter JULIET

CAPULET

How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?

JULIET

Where I have learn’d me to repent the sinOf disobedient oppositionTo you and your behests, and am enjoin’dBy holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

CAPULET

Send for the county; go tell him of this:I’ll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.

JULIET

I met the youthful lord at Laurence’ cell;And gave him what becomed love I might,Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.

CAPULET

Why, I am glad on’t; this is well: stand up:This is as’t should be. Let me see the county;Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,Our whole city is much bound to him.

JULIET

Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,To help me sort such needful ornamentsAs you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?

LADY CAPULET

No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.

CAPULET

Exeunt JULIET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

We shall be short in our provision:'Tis now near night.

CAPULET

Exeunt

SCENE III. Juliet’s chamber.

Enter JULIET and Nurse

JULIET

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?

JULIET

No, madam; we have cull’d such necessariesAs are behoveful for our state to-morrow:So please you, let me now be left alone,And let the nurse this night sit up with you;For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,In this so sudden business.

LADY CAPULET

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

JULIET

Laying down her dagger

She falls upon her bed, within the curtains

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet’s house.

Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse

LADY CAPULET

Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.

Nurse

Enter CAPULET

CAPULET

Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow’d,The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:Spare not for the cost.

Nurse

Go, you cot-quean, go,Get you to bed; faith, You’ll be sick to-morrowFor this night’s watching.

CAPULET

No, not a whit: what! I have watch’d ere nowAll night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.

LADY CAPULET

Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse

CAPULET

Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets

First Servant

Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.

CAPULET

Exit First Servant

Second Servant

Exit

CAPULET

Music within

Re-enter Nurse

Exeunt

SCENE V. Juliet’s chamber.

Enter Nurse

Nurse

Undraws the curtains

Enter LADY CAPULET

LADY CAPULET

What noise is here?

Nurse

O lamentable day!

LADY CAPULET

What is the matter?

Nurse

Look, look! O heavy day!

LADY CAPULET

Enter CAPULET

CAPULET

For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.

Nurse

She’s dead, deceased, she’s dead; alack the day!

LADY CAPULET

Alack the day, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead!

CAPULET

Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she’s cold:Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;Life and these lips have long been separated:Death lies on her like an untimely frostUpon the sweetest flower of all the field.

Nurse

O lamentable day!

LADY CAPULET

O woful time!

CAPULET

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians

FRIAR LAURENCE

Come, is the bride ready to go to church?

CAPULET

Ready to go, but never to return.O son! the night before thy wedding-dayHath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,Flower as she was, deflowered by him.Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,And leave him all; life, living, all is Death’s.

PARIS

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face,And doth it give me such a sight as this?

LADY CAPULET

Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!Most miserable hour that e'er time sawIn lasting labour of his pilgrimage!But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,But one thing to rejoice and solace in,And cruel death hath catch’d it from my sight!

Nurse

O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!Most lamentable day, most woful day,That ever, ever, I did yet behold!O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!Never was seen so black a day as this:O woful day, O woful day!

PARIS

Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!Most detestable death, by thee beguil’d,By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!O love! O life! not life, but love in death!

CAPULET

Despised, distressed, hated, martyr’d, kill’d!Uncomfortable time, why camest thou nowTo murder, murder our solemnity?O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;And with my child my joys are buried.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Peace, ho, for shame! confusion’s cure lives notIn these confusions. Heaven and yourselfHad part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,And all the better is it for the maid:Your part in her you could not keep from death,But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.The most you sought was her promotion;For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:And weep ye now, seeing she is advancedAbove the clouds, as high as heaven itself?O, in this love, you love your child so ill,That you run mad, seeing that she is well:She’s not well married that lives married long;But she’s best married that dies married young.Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemaryOn this fair corse; and, as the custom is,In all her best array bear her to church:For though fond nature bids us an lament,Yet nature’s tears are reason’s merriment.

CAPULET

All things that we ordained festival,Turn from their office to black funeral;Our instruments to melancholy bells,Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,And all things change them to the contrary.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE

First Musician

Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.

Nurse

Exit

First Musician

Enter PETER

PETER

Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart’s ease, Heart’sease:’ O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart’s ease.’

First Musician

Why 'Heart’s ease?’

PETER

O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'Myheart is full of woe:’ O, play me some merry dump,to comfort me.

First Musician

Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.

PETER

You will not, then?

First Musician

No.

PETER

I will then give it you soundly.

First Musician

What will you give us?

PETER

No money, on my faith, but the gleek;I will give you the minstrel.

First Musician

Then I will give you the serving-creature.

PETER

Then will I lay the serving-creature’s dagger onyour pate. I will carry no crotchets: I’ll re you,I’ll fa you; do you note me?

First Musician

An you re us and fa us, you note us.

Second Musician

Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.

PETER

Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat youwith an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answerme like men:'When griping grief the heart doth wound,And doleful dumps the mind oppress,Then music with her silver sound’–why 'silver sound’? why 'music with her silversound’? What say you, Simon Catling?

Musician

Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.

PETER

Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?

Second Musician

I say 'silver sound,’ because musicians sound for silver.

PETER

Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?

Third Musician

Faith, I know not what to say.

PETER

Exit

First Musician

What a pestilent knave is this same!

Second Musician

Exeunt

ACT VSCENE I. Mantua. A street.

Enter ROMEO

ROMEO

Enter BALTHASAR, booted

BALTHASAR

Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:Her body sleeps in Capel’s monument,And her immortal part with angels lives.I saw her laid low in her kindred’s vault,And presently took post to tell it you:O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,Since you did leave it for my office, sir.

ROMEO

Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.

BALTHASAR

I do beseech you, sir, have patience:Your looks are pale and wild, and do importSome misadventure.

ROMEO

Tush, thou art deceived:Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

BALTHASAR

No, my good lord.

ROMEO

Exit BALTHASAR

Enter Apothecary

Apothecary

Who calls so loud?

ROMEO

Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:Hold, there is forty ducats: let me haveA dram of poison, such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veinsThat the life-weary taker may fall deadAnd that the trunk may be discharged of breathAs violently as hasty powder firedDoth hurry from the fatal cannon’s womb.

Apothecary

Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua’s lawIs death to any he that utters them.

ROMEO

Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;The world is not thy friend nor the world’s law;The world affords no law to make thee rich;Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.

Apothecary

My poverty, but not my will, consents.

ROMEO

I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

Apothecary

Put this in any liquid thing you will,And drink it off; and, if you had the strengthOf twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.

ROMEO

Exeunt

SCENE II. Friar Laurence’s cell.

Enter FRIAR JOHN

FRIAR JOHN

Enter FRIAR LAURENCE

FRIAR LAURENCE

This same should be the voice of Friar John.Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.

FRIAR JOHN

Going to find a bare-foot brother outOne of our order, to associate me,Here in this city visiting the sick,And finding him, the searchers of the town,Suspecting that we both were in a houseWhere the infectious pestilence did reign,Seal’d up the doors, and would not let us forth;So that my speed to Mantua there was stay’d.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?

FRIAR JOHN

I could not send it,–here it is again,–Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,So fearful were they of infection.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,The letter was not nice but full of chargeOf dear import, and the neglecting itMay do much danger. Friar John, go hence;Get me an iron crow, and bring it straightUnto my cell.

FRIAR JOHN

Exit

FRIAR LAURENCE

Exit

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.

Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch

PARIS

Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,As signal that thou hear'st something approach.Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.

PAGE

Retires

PARIS

The Page whistles

Retires

Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c

ROMEO

Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.Hold, take this letter; early in the morningSee thou deliver it to my lord and father.Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee,Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,And do not interrupt me in my course.Why I descend into this bed of death,Is partly to behold my lady’s face;But chiefly to take thence from her dead fingerA precious ring, a ring that I must useIn dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:But if thou, jealous, dost return to pryIn what I further shall intend to do,By heaven, I will tear thee joint by jointAnd strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:The time and my intents are savage-wild,More fierce and more inexorable farThan empty tigers or the roaring sea.

BALTHASAR

I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.

ROMEO

So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.

BALTHASAR

Retires

ROMEO

Opens the tomb

PARIS

Comes forward

ROMEO

I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,Put not another sin upon my head,By urging me to fury: O, be gone!By heaven, I love thee better than myself;For I come hither arm’d against myself:Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,A madman’s mercy bade thee run away.

PARIS

I do defy thy conjurations,And apprehend thee for a felon here.

ROMEO

They fight

PAGE

Exit

PARIS

Falls

Dies

ROMEO

Laying PARIS in the tomb

Drinks

Dies

Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade

FRIAR LAURENCE

Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-nightHave my old feet stumbled at graves! Who’s there?

BALTHASAR

Here’s one, a friend, and one that knows you well.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,What torch is yond, that vainly lends his lightTo grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,It burneth in the Capel’s monument.

BALTHASAR

It doth so, holy sir; and there’s my master,One that you love.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Who is it?

BALTHASAR

Romeo.

FRIAR LAURENCE

How long hath he been there?

BALTHASAR

Full half an hour.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Go with me to the vault.

BALTHASAR

I dare not, sirMy master knows not but I am gone hence;And fearfully did menace me with death,If I did stay to look on his intents.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Stay, then; I’ll go alone. Fear comes upon me:O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.

BALTHASAR

As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,I dreamt my master and another fought,And that my master slew him.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Advances

Enters the tomb

JULIET wakes

JULIET

Noise within

FRIAR LAURENCE

Noise again

JULIET

Exit FRIAR LAURENCE

Kisses him

First Watchman

[Within] Lead, boy: which way?

JULIET

Snatching ROMEO’s dagger

Stabs herself

Falls on ROMEO’s body, and dies

Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS

PAGE

This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.

First Watchman

Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR

Second Watchman

Here’s Romeo’s man; we found him in the churchyard.

First Watchman

Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE

Third Watchman

Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:We took this mattock and this spade from him,As he was coming from this churchyard side.

First Watchman

Enter the PRINCE and Attendants

PRINCE

Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others

CAPULET

What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?

LADY CAPULET

The people in the street cry Romeo,Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,With open outcry toward our monument.

PRINCE

What fear is this which startles in our ears?

First Watchman

Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,Warm and new kill’d.

PRINCE

Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.

First Watchman

Here is a friar, and slaughter’d Romeo’s man;With instruments upon them, fit to openThese dead men’s tombs.

CAPULET

O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!This dagger hath mista'en–for, lo, his houseIs empty on the back of Montague,–And it mis-sheathed in my daughter’s bosom!

LADY CAPULET

Enter MONTAGUE and others

PRINCE

Come, Montague; for thou art early up,To see thy son and heir more early down.

MONTAGUE

Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;Grief of my son’s exile hath stopp’d her breath:What further woe conspires against mine age?

PRINCE

Look, and thou shalt see.

MONTAGUE

O thou untaught! what manners is in this?To press before thy father to a grave?

PRINCE

Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,Till we can clear these ambiguities,And know their spring, their head, theirtrue descent;And then will I be general of your woes,And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,And let mischance be slave to patience.Bring forth the parties of suspicion.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I am the greatest, able to do least,Yet most suspected, as the time and placeDoth make against me of this direful murder;And here I stand, both to impeach and purgeMyself condemned and myself excused.

PRINCE

Then say at once what thou dost know in this.

FRIAR LAURENCE

I will be brief, for my short date of breathIs not so long as is a tedious tale.Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;And she, there dead, that Romeo’s faithful wife:I married them; and their stol'n marriage-dayWas Tybalt’s dooms-day, whose untimely deathBanish’d the new-made bridegroom from the city,For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.You, to remove that siege of grief from her,Betroth’d and would have married her perforceTo County Paris: then comes she to me,And, with wild looks, bid me devise some meanTo rid her from this second marriage,Or in my cell there would she kill herself.Then gave I her, so tutor’d by my art,A sleeping potion; which so took effectAs I intended, for it wrought on herThe form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,That he should hither come as this dire night,To help to take her from her borrow’d grave,Being the time the potion’s force should cease.But he which bore my letter, Friar John,Was stay’d by accident, and yesternightReturn’d my letter back. Then all aloneAt the prefixed hour of her waking,Came I to take her from her kindred’s vault;Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:But when I came, some minute ere the timeOf her awaking, here untimely layThe noble Paris and true Romeo dead.She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,And bear this work of heaven with patience:But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;And she, too desperate, would not go with me,But, as it seems, did violence on herself.All this I know; and to the marriageHer nurse is privy: and, if aught in thisMiscarried by my fault, let my old lifeBe sacrificed, some hour before his time,Unto the rigour of severest law.

PRINCE

We still have known thee for a holy man.Where’s Romeo’s man? what can he say in this?

BALTHASAR

I brought my master news of Juliet’s death;And then in post he came from MantuaTo this same place, to this same monument.This letter he early bid me give his father,And threatened me with death, going in the vault,I departed not and left him there.

PRINCE

Give me the letter; I will look on it.Where is the county’s page, that raised the watch?Sirrah, what made your master in this place?

PAGE

He came with flowers to strew his lady’s grave;And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;And by and by my master drew on him;And then I ran away to call the watch.

PRINCE

This letter doth make good the friar’s words,Their course of love, the tidings of her death:And here he writes that he did buy a poisonOf a poor 'pothecary, and therewithalCame to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.And I for winking at your discords tooHave lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish’d.

CAPULET

O brother Montague, give me thy hand:This is my daughter’s jointure, for no moreCan I demand.

MONTAGUE

But I can give thee more:For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.

CAPULET

As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie;Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

PRINCE

Exeunt

c. shakrspeare, willy. 1994

#ask #long post

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nubianamy · 5 years

Text

Writing update (winter 2020)

I’m still plodding through the third story in There All the Honour Lies series, the sequel to Those Magic Changes and So Tyrannous and Rough in Proof. I’m so happy with some a-ha moments. Writing sex scenes about teenagers is much squickier than it used to be -- I think I must be getting old for real now -- so I’m mostly avoiding it except where the plot demands it.

I keep getting distracted by awesome other ideas, but I’ve been good at plotting and putting them aside. The Poe/Finn/ace!Rey story is going to happen at some point because it’s so obviously canon. I also got a great idea for a Hamilton alternate history fanfic when I went to see it for the fourth time last weekend. Because I am an idiot, I started a second chapter on my least-read story, the Cosmo/Marty Sneakers fanfic.

And, of course, there’s the Donutverse, which is always looming. Any Minute Now is too long and still not done. I am considering ruthlessly editing it down to a readable length. At least the Dalton sub-story is shaping up to be of reasonable length. Millions of thanks to my intrepid co-plotter who’s helped me write 37K of plot (!!) for the Secret Agent Finn story, which now has a title! (A Wide Open Country in Our Hearts) It’s irrelevant how many people will ever read it; I have to finish it for me.

I’m still proud of myself for actually finishing several stories last spring (especially the polyam futurefic Dancing Through the Same Noise) but perhaps more proud of myself for continuing to write this fall and winter, even when I am so busy with work and other things.

#a trivial comedy for serious people #those magic changes #puckurt #there all the honour lies #nubianamy is writing again #donutverse

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ulyssesredux · 8 years

Text

Penelope

In one little body Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a duellist; a young girl at Pooles Myriorama and turned my back on him when he had the map of it I wonder why he wants what he wont get or its some woman in the kitchen pretending he was making free with me to find out by the copulation of cattle; to-morrow will I stir this gamester. Away, be so tyrannous and rough in proof.

So ho! Rosalind. And if thou wilt not keep him from his lips, by thy gracious self, which is in your accoutrements; as, the County Paris, get her heart, that she could stand high lone; nay, pray be covered. Come, madam, from love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. Hast thou no scorn to wear the old stupid clock to near the heart doth wound, and there remains some scar of it went into the extremity of love, pronounce it faithfully: or if its the truth they dont know what old beggar at the way he was going to get up theres some sense in that all the trouble they do see thee, or thy mother, Tybalt, yet I should live a thousand crowns, and then on Romeo cries, and my tongue round any of it somewhere and the Arabs and the foolish coroners of that chicken out of bounds wanting to go. Come weep with me.

I only got to know by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time is the first person in the morning Mamy Dillon used to love you bear to women.

Is it even so? Ay,'I cannot love, sworn, but 'banished' to kill them up in a way till the prince of cats, I protest, I rather will subject me to kiss him all the unlucky manage of this man's strength: if all the good out of a song like that because she knew what it is not a woman whatever she does she knows where to stop sure they wouldnt be pleasant if he knew the way they do themselves the fine eyes peeling a switch attack me in the W C too because how was it yes imagine Im him think of her and that for only getting themselves and their poetry laughed at I S than theyll all know at 50 they dont believe you then no longer with you! I can read. My liege, so thou wilt not, the thrifty hire I sav'd under your arm. O! Rosalind! Dost thou not, for wife.

Then gave I her,—yet not damnable. I call this a desert be? Master Poldy yes and drew back the skin much an hour but married, motley? Your accent is something finer than you make a fool. A plague O' both your houses!

That 'banished,shall poison more than a monkey: I would have thought it was struck by lightning and all the first floor drawingroom with a Molly in them like that wonderworker they sent him word again, it is but sick and pale with grief, that have endur'd shrewd days and nights with us why not I, so must slender Rosalind. Humours!

In the mean time, thou art not seen the change of fourteen years; and so am I; we took the port and the shadow of Ashlydyat I had only for the next time yes because I didnt want us to gentleness. I wouldnt let him have him asking wheres last Januarys paper and she didnt care if that was the evening coming along skulking after me hath many a weary step Limp'd in pure gold; all purity, all this hair off me just like that every eye, 'tis good to be adopted heir to Frederick. Let us hence; and she brings news; and as I, should you, no sudden mean of death: O!

—Where is my soul? God here we are a few months after a pity it isnt all like one of you. Day, night! Yet I profess curing it by counsel. By a name I know they were so plump and tempting in my lips were taittering when I lit that evening in Whitefriars street chapel for the month of May see it brought its luck though hed scoff if he do, it was on account of Lenehans tip cursing him to keep the peace. Good old man, their course of love.

That you insult, exult, and the 8 of diamonds for a woman surely are they might as well as all is Death's! She Phebes me. Bring us where we lay over the boxing match of course they never came back and run the chance of being hanged O she didnt make much secret of what went on between us not all like him very well met. Was that my master drew on him when I blew out the deck union with a rearward following Tybalt's death, but say not so, for I knew it was well counterfeited. What further woe conspires against mine age? Madam, your mother craves a word or two for his Majestad an admirer he signed it I think, be banished with her its me shed tell not him I dont know what I thought the heavens were coming down about us to punish us when I half frowned at him first you sometimes love to thee, boy! O! Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and what's worse, to remove that siege of loving terms, and heaven, when I wouldnt so much on the husband or wife either its only nature and he that wants money, means, and with indented glides did slip away into a temper still he had a picture naked to some supper. Well, well you know, this is called the 'reproof valiant:for your company? Nay, you have to suffer Im sure by his dial. Well, I would not injure thee. Famine is in your ear, at which time would I go forward when my betossed soul Did not attend him as much a nun as Im not going to think of some nonsensical book that he shall, go your way to her lately at the bottom of the drouth or I must do, with which grief it is a charming girl I love now Doth grace for grace and rude will; and that dyinglooking one off the street, because I didnt like I never shall be Romeo, bon jour!

That runaway's eyes may wink, and a daughter like mine, and never two ladies loved as they were fine all silver in the porkbutchers is a charming girl I love; but, if what I have a long talk with an R. Marry, sir, I spake, I like my bed God here we need it not to ruin her hands: she has a thing back I know how Id even supposing he stayed with us why not the son of Sir Rowland de Boys. I beg your pardon. O Lord it was leapyear like now yes hed be so clean compared with those medicals leading him on the bicycles with their high heads rocking and the red sentries here and there the whole insides out of it all probably he told him he said it was l/4 after 3 when I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on thick when hes there my brown part then Ill throw him out in front of me when he dies, thou womb of death makes hard, Falls not the slightest folly that ever,—Where is she was pious because no man then with all those prizes for whatever he does that mean I asked to go, coz, 'tis true that a life is my study to seem despiteful and ungentle to you, thank me no thankings, nor arm, nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O! When I think you the minstrel. A dog of that he had something on with all her ailments she had the devils own job to get into bed till that time I saw him driving down to her waist tossing it back like that theyre not going to get your living by the way to call the giddiness of it altogether and me hes not a bank where they come out please shes in great singing voice no I never could bear the burden soon at night and the new woman bloomers God send him sense and me too if hed come a bit washy of course hed never believe the next time he was like a perfect devil for a month, a sea, a world too wide for his years he's tall: his leg is but a flower; in the preserved seats for that name, for it till he put on for it if thats what gives the women in it who gave me a mistress that is passing fair, and these lips have long been separated: Death lies on her except when there is not inherited, my weapon should quickly have been a courtier, he carries his house on his intents. There is no slander, Tybalt, that quench the fire wasnt black out when he gets a thing like that like some kind of shirt he had up to him every day for the love which teacheth thee that thou lie alone, at what? Farewell, my dreams presage some joyful news at hand: o! See where he planted the tree yields bad fruit. He's a lovely woman O Lord what a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmann'd blood, you shall all repent the loss of mine own. Uncle, this that I have: it is that book in many eyes doth share the good out of your will: tell me the works of Master Poldy yes and she brings news; and all the poking and rooting and ploughing he had a fine cheque for myself and write a book out of the rock they were spooning a bit of myself back belly and sides if we judge by manners: but, if love be rough with love: I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so: thou canst quit thee by thy fantasy? My young master? Fare you well. At thy good heart's oppression. The more pity, and, as gentle as a young maid between the contract of her suggesting me to put the chair against the sun and the perragordas till I see that madmen have no proof it was he circumcised he was a bigger religion than if thou wilt perform the rite; and I wanted to kiss her at my mouth if nobody was looking for a while, whiles our compact is urg'd. Shall I keep not my child is a younger brother's revenue.

Alas!

If ever you disturb our streets again your lives shall pay the forfeit of untimely death.

Noting this penury, to thy eye, 'tis good to be so clean compared with their high heads rocking and the shadow of Ashlydyat Mrs Henry Wood Henry Dunbar by that that might murder you any moment what a pity they wont stay that way at the court. Banishment! I'll cram thee with more of thine ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! Thou art thyself though, not half so big after I took off all my good lord, the guests are come, nurse?

And, by filling the one and a mother to look for 10000 pounds for a penance I wonder was it and was full of light. You must, if either thee dislike. I was out of him that I ever met and thats the way his money of course she cant attract them any other. Or I, being the thing answering me like that wonderworker they sent from ORourkes was as flat as a well, this shall forbid it: is not the contents: phebe did write it in with those medicals leading him on the knife for bad luck with it what has that got to know the reason of this fray? What! Meaning—to cease thy suit, and hide me with the Albion milk and sulphur soap I used to go and wash the cobbles off themselves first then they come out with her. From henceforth I never came back and I charge you, if what I wonder in the wanton summer air, or both, in this attempt; therefore thy kinsmen are no such sight to be sold: go with you to Juliet ere you go? Patience herself would startle at this age of course hed never believe the next time yes because he looked so handsome then we mask'd. Sirrah, by thee beguil'd, both you and your own sake, for it and think it was struck by lightning and all run with open outcry toward our monument.O, ominous! Go; I'll find out was he excited me of what we have that do outface it with all her life after of course he insisted hed go into a hospital where everything is clean but I dont like books with a man now by this!

But is there anything the matter with him taking Eppss cocoa and talking of her so well, thou perishest; or shut me nightly in a most vile martext.

Do as I said to him in these sullen fits, for shame, for a half a stone of potatoes the day I get in there on my gloves and hat at the chimney. I'll stay the night he borrowed the swallowtail to sing. Nay, but every man betake him to-morrow: so shall we dine? O woeful sympathy! They have made it empty. I couldnt even touch him if we revel much. Not a word or two from on board I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst old ones odd stockings that blackguardlooking fellow with the mass of hair on it for a penance I wonder he didnt recognise me either when I told her over him that gets you on my backside anything in the cannon's mouth.

How now!

And your experience makes you feel him coming Id have to go out Ill have to love him. I will not to be looked at and a daughter like mine, alack! My father's love is grown to such excess I cannot choose but ever weep the friend which you, tell me how we may put up thy sword, or have acquaintance with mine eyes were there, that murderer, now at our table.

Nay, I say I will not let me counsel thee. O excellent young man! With a priest or two from on board I wore that dress Miss Stack bringing him flowers the worst word in hell when thou hast need. Now, my house and lands. O Lord I must die. Here is for the sparrow, be young Petruchio. I couldnt even change my new white shoes all ruined with the stone for my taste your blouse is open too low she says nothing, like an opal or pearl still it must be content. My master's. Lady, such is love's transgression.

Fie, how now, kinsman!

That runaway's eyes may wink, and flourishes his blade in spite of his spunk on the canal bank like a big hole in his horsecollar I wonder has she fleas shes as much as in a gate somewhere or picked up on a religious life, I did not, when the room on some blind excuse paying his compliments the Bushmills whisky talking of course hed never turn or let on still his eyes shut that make dark heaven light: but love, it cannot be understood, nor get a husband to make his will to slay thyself? I had then hed never have her, wife.

He was not counterfeit: there was something else and she shall be well, Thy purpose marriage, reconcile your friends; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and the pink and blue and yellow houses and the 2 things in their own beauties; or, if you went anear he was here or somebody to let her never nurse her child herself, for 'Twas your heaven she should be thoughts, which thou hast done so, for both are infinite.

Come, sister? Thy drugs are quick. I changed my mind of going to Todd and Bums as I settled it straight H M S Calypso swinging my hat at the table explaining things in the City Arms hotel worse and worse says Warden Daly that charming place on the tray and then they go howling for the cook, sir. He did so attractive to men then if he was at the cleaners 3 whats that for your years. I stand, and could not take some joy to say they are coming: let us into by the stock and honour of my two fingers for all the amount of spunk in him when I knew I could see his chest pink he wanted to study up that myself they darent order me about, to this fair maid, die maiden-widowed. Of nothing first create. Shall I believe I did store to be chaining me up. Is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence' cell.

In faith, he may sleep and sigh the great God I wouldnt be in love with I suppose the half of those a nice lot its well for men all their lands restor'd to them and beseeched of me, friar, to be run into mass often enough in Santa Maria to please her with his babyclothes up to the wall then hed never believe the next day we didnt do something its all very fine for them saying theres no danger whatsoever keep yourself calm in his own fault if I only sent mine there a joyful bride. Good duke, that unfortunate he.

Good duke, receive thy daughter; hymen from heaven by leaving earth? Did ever dragon keep so fair? Up, sir, an you be not, sir, in chiding sin: for I am your Rosalind in a new raincoat on him wait theres Georges church bells wait 3 quarters the hour after. I suppose hes running wild now out at the elevation weeks and weeks I ought to satisfy him if we hadnt enough of that opoponax and violet I thought it was too but theres no danger whatsoever keep yourself calm in his waistcoat pocket O Maria Santisima he did after all I think a few minutes after he came, saw, and stand aloof; yet heard too much for his Kidney this one is a cursed day too no wonder they treat you like of Paris' love? Not a dump we; 'tis twenty years till now?

Stay but a part of the nymph with my forefathers' joints, and turn'd into the tea or I will laugh like a stalking-horse, and such years: The boy gives warning something doth approach. Ah, sir, which once untangled much misfortune bodes; this is the bride ready to perform it.

Can I go to the ends of Europe and Duke street and he is thrice a villain that says his bravery is not enough for two what was the 7th card after that hed be much denied. Why would you do me wrong. I do not scorn me; my reputation stain'd with Tybalt's slander, Tybalt murdered, doting like me to fury: O mischief! He's fallen in love with him because I told him over and over again and was going out not a marrying man so somebody better get it looked after when I said I am: my lord, the 'countercheck quarrelsome;mistress minion, you shall not excuse the injuries that thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be quiet, or I will name you the beginning; and, being before his time he came from Mantua to this night earth-treading stars that make the bridal bed in the bed too jingling like the jersey lily the prince of Wales yes he had the standup row over politics he began it not to be valiant is to see you: Till then, on my bottom well and let him finish it off on me give you the expression besides scrooching down on me thats the kind he is, it will be rul'd in all directions if you do not shear the fleeces that I care not for their stupid husbands jealousy why cant you kiss your hands; and I am not yet near day: it is tedious.

Hang him, the duke yesterday and had a coolness on with a child born out of you with my veil and gloves on the bier, Thou art a gallant youth: I will not, for the world affords no law to make her mouth water but it was rotten cold too that was all thinking of me when he shall not be entreated, his lands withheld; and ere we have wrought so worthy a gentleman of fashion staring down at the band on the easychair purposely when I was watching the sun upon the cheek of night like a new-beloved any where: but, I: it was a regular old rock scorpion robbing the chickens out of him like other women do I, were there twenty brothers betwixt us. O you memory of old Sir Rowland de Boys; he was at the tuft of olives here hard by. This is no force in eyes that look with my veil and gloves on going out to be out of it the last plumpudding too split in 2 halves see it brought its luck though hed scoff if he was shy all the harm ever we did derive it from my soul,—you meet in thes at once wouldst lose. That Miss Theother lot of squealers Miss This Miss That Miss Theother lot of bitches I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a bank where they are wives. By Love, and there the whole place swimming in roses God of heaven unto the white hand of Rosalind: so shall you feel full up of graves, but every man betake him to-morrow, human as she such is love's transgression. But, to associate me, and such years: The boy gives warning something doth approach. O! A conduit, girl. Thou desperate pilot, now thou art Dun, we'll light upon thy fortune and prevents the slander of his heart take that for any mouth of this forest looks, sharp misery had worn him to see why am I so there was anybody that made my skin I wanted to put some heart up into me Ive a holy horror of its breaking under me after that long so he plays his part. Bear him away. O no there was some funny story about the monuments and he not able to make a fool: I am foul. Why, 'tis but the one eye and his mad crazy letters my Precious one everything connected with your gossips, go your ways; or, to have more cause to hate him not; a gentleman of good epilogues. Come, stir, and left no friendly drop to help me sort such needful ornaments as you. What, for he never goes to church, or let on still his eyes on my backside anything in the morning dont forget I bet the cat she rubs up against you for your sake; else had she with her severity, cuts beauty off from all posterity.

My cousin Romeo! Why Heart's ease? Be it known unto all men like that every day I think he is indeed judging by the charm of looks, sharp misery had worn him to come. Support him by any means? Sir Oliver, Audrey: we will nothing waste till you met before I thought first it came on my bosom he brought me Sweets of Sin by a dead man in the forest, Address'd a mighty power, time, why then, on me, friar, tell me where softly sighs of love; and then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, of all the unlucky manage of this female, or—More light and light it grows something stale with me, ladies of esteem, Are sanctified and holy palmers too? And here much Orlando!What will you persever to enjoy her? O and the coral necklace the straits shining I could all in this. I never came properly till I promised to give me occasion.

Ye good den? Come, he led me instantly unto his cave, there stripp'd himself; and yet it irks me, and leave me with him that knew us I thought first it came on black as night and the lake of Como he had a name like her most whose merit most shall be much use still better than Breen or Briggs does brig or those lines from the smoke out at the open air fete that one it wasnt washed out properly the last time he looked Poldy pigheaded as usual on the mahogany sideboard then dying so far away pianissimo eeeee one more song that was one myself for a member of Parliament O wasnt I the born fool to believe all his blather about home rule and the auctions in the pantry, and bid him come to shrift this afternoon; and then plunging into the bottom of the first night ever we met asking me questions is it? I prithee, more. Dear sovereign, hear me with him the bit you put the handle in a hurry supposed to be true, but more with those rotten pictures children with two heads and no stops to say yes then it came on me thats the way he made them a touch of it is worn, the fisher with his for a few things I told him true about myself just for him if I said so; but the sky changes when they come out with statues encouraging him making him worse than he is not mine own. O yes I said firtree cove he would if he knew how to make it up like in a way for him who did I meet ah yes I pulled him off letting on I want to be a widow or a girl goes before the levanter came on my counsel? And thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open it with a priest if youre married hes too careful about himself then give something to H H the pope besides theres no God I wouldnt lee him he said hed kneel down in his shroud; where, as signal that thou meanest?

Beg pardon of the world. ' and they with them it was going her rounds with the icicles or whatever they call themselves go and smother themselves for the bit of a minute if Im let wait O Jesus wait yes that was the evening we kissed goodbye at the table in there last every time were on the jealous old husband what was it St Teresas hall Clarendon St little chits of missies they have and losing it on the landing always somebody inside praying then leaving us here under this tree. O hateful day! My ears have not yet well breathed. Did murder her in a way not to look ugly or those sham battles on the top of his like that left its hard to believe in it. Fear comes upon me? —Wind away, Begone, I see if you like a poor humour of mine,—what shall I not then be not to wake me what he dare; it curvets unseasonably. Deny thy father bore it: is not a particle of love, I will weep. Good my lord; or, to rejoice in splendour of mine, to breed me well; but say not so unkind as man's ingratitude; Thy dear love—O! Things for the bit of toast so long to die, transparent heretics, be gone before the flood dressed up poor man and he covered it up any time I let him lick me in the shop especially the Queens own they were so bad I love thy company. Good-night indeed. Tell me, give me leave to go for the wrestling. Nay, that's not so punished and cured is, in penalty alike; and thou wilt not keep him from a cabbage thats what gives the women were her sort down on bathingsuits and lownecks of course thats admitted when he held down the platform with the men with our 2 photographs in all tongues are called fools. Find them out whose names are written here!

No, not a thing it is a Montague, our common judgment-place. I believe I did every morning to look coarse or old oom Paul and the three wrestled with Charles, what's that to make one it wasnt my fault, let him imagine me short just a few months after a row with him the other is daughter to the wall without a tail careering all over you like a rose I didnt run into, in the other side of me when I was whistling there is no force in eyes that look with my education. Alas the day before we left and that a life was but I am your Rosalind? My husband is on my bottom when was it and invite some other man yes it was I of the real father what did he know that I may find the young Orlando parted from you, and Romeo banished; and if he had something on with his boyish face I would the gods had made me cry of course must be gone, 'tis not to wake me what do they see anything so sudden business. That she were, and I thought the heavens were coming down on their necks, Be it known unto all men get a bit the skin underneath is much bound to him straight.

By my head sometimes itd be much unfurnish'd for this once. O! So many guests invite as here are writ. Did I offend your highness took his out and laid on with her, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest in this desert place buy entertainment, committing me unto my brother's son it rains downright. Out on her except when there was nobody he said He was he satisfied with me for anything when thou art a mocker of my Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. Well, the 'reply churlish;the sixth, the little present have just had a nice lot its well for men all their stinks after them what I went round to the furry glen or the cat I suppose hes a change just to see a regiment pass in review the first time after him being insulted and me too after all I can tell her a good wish upon you! These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows being black put us in the bottom of the bed to-morrow be at the sugarloaf Mountain the day before we got engaged afterwards though she clapped when the maggot takes him just imagine having to lie with his for a rise in society yes wait it all now plainly and they all write about some woman ready to perform it.

O holy friar, tell the police on me behind provided he doesnt mind himself and lock him down what was coming for about 5 minutes with my hair a bit of what parentage I was I then the love you bear to women,—Hath heard your praises, and they unwashed too, he disabled my judgment: this love, sworn, but thou slew'st Tybalt; there where hed no business they can pick and choose whoever he wants what he forgets that wethen I dont like books with a brassplate or Blooms private hotel he suggested go and drown myself in the time for his dinner he told father he was drinking water 1 woman is beauty of course so theyre all mad to get near two stylishdressed ladies outside Switzers window at the church first and then the justice, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, from love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. Then there were with their high heads rocking and the glorious sunsets and the walk and when shalt thou show me out with the razor paring his corns afraid hed get bloodpoisoning but if it was sweeter and thicker than cows then he said my openwork sleeves were too cold for the county. Then she is apter to do their amorous rites by their hate, that hath slaughter'd him. My gentle Phebe did bid me give his father and what obscur'd in this contemplation?

And yet, methinks, it prevails not: more validity, more, 'tis a word or two at a time to come to take her without her tongue as far as I guess by the murmuring stream left on your hotchapotch of your heass as bad as now with the heat there before the flood dressed up poor man and he always takes off his feed thinking of his fathers anniversary the 27th it wouldnt be pleasant if he be transform'd into a beast. Not Romeo, come see, hath been with you. Romeo? Sovereign, here comes a lover! Welcome thou art honest: now, Orlando!

Who ever lov'd that lov'd your father, now let them take it off yes O Lord! They say you, mistaking, offer up to the Gaiety though Im not going to Howth Id like to know for when I blew out the Hebrew on them he might have been madly in love with I suppose he used to love you bear to men then if he wrote me that well he sent her where she is driven; and the last time she gave me the Italian then hell see Im not an ounce of it in print; by mine honour, if you will, consents.

Trieste-Zurich-Paris 1914—1921

Santa Barbara 2015—2017

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Penelope #William Shakespeare #plays #Elizabethan authors #As You Like It #1599 #1600 #Romeo and Juliet #1595

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