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As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, Jul. I come, anon :—but, if thou mean'st not well, Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest !
I would adventure for such merchandise.
I do beseech thee,-

Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell ;
JUL. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,

[Nurse. [Within.] Madam! His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. (Exit. Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek,


By and by, I come:-
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
To-morrow will I send.

SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's Cell. What I have spoke; but farewell complement !


So thrive my soul, — Dost thou love me? I know, thou wilt say-Ay; JUL. A thousand times good night!


Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket. And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st, Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,


night, They say, Jove laughs. O, gentle Romeo,

Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light; If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:


And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,

But love from love, toward school, with heavy looks. From forth day's path, and Titan's fiery wheels; I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,

(Retiring slowly. Now ere the sun advance his burning eye, So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.

The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry, In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

Re-enter JULIET, above.

I must up-fill this osier cage of ours, And therefore thou may'st think my 'haviour light: JUL. Hist! Romeo, hist!-0, for a falconer's voice, With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. But trust me, gentleman, I 'll prove more true To lure this tassel-gentle back again!

The earth, that 's nature's mother, is her tomb;
Than those that have more cunning to be strange. Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; What is her burying grave, that is her womb:
I should have been more strange, I must confess, Else would I tear the cave where echo lies,

And from her womb children of divers kind,
But that thou over-heard'st, ere I was 'ware, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, We sucking on her natural bosom find;
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, With repetition of my Romeo's name.

Many for many virtues excellent,
And not impute this yielding to light love,

Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name: None but for some, and yet all different. Which the dark night hath so discovered.

How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, 0, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies Rom.-Lady, by yonder blessed moon I vow, Like softest music to attending ears !

In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities; That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops, - 1 JUL. Romeo !

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, JUL. O, swear not by the moon, the

But to the earth some special good inconstant moon,

doth give; That monthy changes in her circled

Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from orb,

that fair use, Lest that thy love prove likewise

Revolts from true birth, stumbling variable.

on abuse : Rom. What shall I swear by?

Virtue itself turns vice, being misJUL. Do not swear

applied ; at all;

And vice sometime's by action digni. Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gra

fied. cious self,

Within the infant rind of this weak Which is the god of my idolatry,

flower And I'll believe thee.

Poison hath residence, and medicine ROM. If my heart's

power: dear love

For this, being smelt, with that part JUL. Well, do not swear. Al

cheers each part; though I joy in thee,

Being tasted, slays all senses with the I have no joy of this contract to.

heart. night:

Two such opposed kingsencamp them It is too rash, too unadvis’d, too

still sudden,

In man as well as herbs,-grace, and Too like the lightning, which doth

rude will; cease to be,

And, where the worser is predomiEre one can sayit lightens. Sweet,

nant, good night!

Full soon the canker death eats up This bud of love, by summer's ripen

that plant. ing breath,

Enter ROMEO. May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.

ROM, Good morrow, father! Good night, good night! as sweet


Benedicite! repose and rest

What early tongue so sweet saluteth Come to thy heart, as that within my

me?breast !

Young son, it argues a distemper'd Rom. O, wilt thou leave me so un

head, satisfied ?

So soon to bid good morrow to thy JUL What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?

Care keeps his watch in every old Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

And where care lodges, sleep will JUL. I gave thee mine before thou I

never lie: didst request it: I must up-fill this osier cage of ours, with baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers.

But where unbruised youth with unAnd yet I would it were to give

stuff'd brain again.

My dear!

Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign : ROM. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what pur- JUL.

What o'clock to-morrow Therefore thy earliness doth me assure, pose, love? Shall I send to thee?

Thou art up-roused with some distemperature ; JUL. But to be frank, and give it thee again.

By the hour of nine.

Or if not so, then here I hit it right-
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:

Jul. I will not fail ; 'tis twenty years till then. Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember it. Fri. God pardon sin ! wast thou with Rosaline? The more I have, for both are infinite.

JUL. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; [Nurse calls within. Remembering how I love thy company.

I have forgot that name, and that name 's woe. I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu !

Rom. And I 'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Fri. That's my good son : but where hast thou Anon, good nurse. --Sweet Montague, be true. Forgetting any other home but this.

been then? Stay but a little, I will come again.

[Exit. Jul. 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me agen. ROM. O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard,

gone :

I have been feasting with mine enemy;
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
And yet, no farther than a wanton's bird;

Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me,
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
That lets it hop a little from her hand,

That 's by me wounded; both our remedies
Re-enter Juliet, above.
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,

Within thy help and holy physic lies :
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,

I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo,
JUL. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night, So loving-jealous of his liberty.

My intercession likewise steads my foe. indeed. Rom. I would, I were thy bird.

Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift ; If that thy bent of love be honourable,


Sweet, so would I: Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set By one that I'll procure to come to thee,

Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, On the fair daughter of rich Capulet : Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rite; That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow. As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,

[Erit. And all combin'd, save what thou must combine And follow thee my lord throughout the world ;- Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy By holy marriage. When, and where, and how, [NURSE. [Within.] Madam! breast

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


bed :

man's eye,

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

Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how Rom. Pink, for flower?
That thou consent to marry us to-day.
he dares, being dared.

MER. Right.
Fri. Holy saint Francis ! what a change is here ! MER. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead ! Rom. Why, then is my pump well flower'd.
Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,

stabb’d with a white wench's black eye ; shot through MER. - Sure wit : follow me this jest now, till thou So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies, the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart hast worn out thy pump ; that, when the single sole Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.

cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft; and is he a of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the wearing, Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine man to encounter Tybalt ?

solely-singular. Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline !

BEN. Why, what is Tybalt ?

Rom. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the How much salt water thrown away in waste,


More than prince of cats, I singleness ! To season love, that of it doth not taste !

can tell you. O, he's the courageous captain of com- MER. Come between us, good Benvolio ; my The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, plements : he fights as you sing prick-song, keeps wit faints. Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;

time, distance, and proportion ; rests me his minim Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I 'll Lo, here upon thy check the stain doth sit

rest, one,-two,-and the third in your bosom : the cry a match. Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet :

very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist ; a Mer. Nay, if our wits run the wild-goose chase, If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine, gentleman of the very first house,—of the first and I am done ; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline ;

second cause : Ah, the immortal passado ! the punto one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my whole And art thou chang’d? pronounce this sentence then, reverso ! the hay! —

five. Was I with you there for the goose ? Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. BEN. The what?

Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, Rom. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline. Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting when thou wast not there for the goose. Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. fantasticoes; these new tuners of accent ! – By MER. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. ROM. And bad'st me bury love.

Jesu, a very good blade!-a very tall man!-a very Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. FRI.

Not in a grave,

good whore! –Why, is not this a lamentable thing, Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter-sweeting ; it is a To lay one in, another out to have.

grand sire, that we should be thus afflicted with these most sharp sauce. Rom. I pray thee, chide not : she whom I love strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez- Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? now,

moys, who stand so much on the new form, that they MER. O, here's a wit of cheverel, that stretches Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; cannot sit at ease on the old bench? O, their bons, from an inch narrow to an ell broad ! The other did not so. their bons !

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

Mer. 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.

Ben. Stop there, stop there.

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

BEN. Thou would'st else have made thy tale large.

MER. 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
Rom. Here's goodly geer!

Enter Nurse and PETER.
MER. A sail, a sail ! a sail !
BEN. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock.
NURSE. Peter !
PETER. Anon?
NURSE. My fan, Peter.

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

NURSE. God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
MER. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
NURSE. Is it good den?
Mer. '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?

Rom. 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 ?

Rom. 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 NURSE, My fan, Peter.

fault of a worse. O, she knew well,

Enter Romeo.

NURSE. You say well. Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell.

MER. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' But come, young waverer, come go with me,

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. faith ; wisely, wisely. In one respect I'll thy assistant be ;

MER. Without his roe, like a dried herring :-0 NURSE. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence For this alliance may so happy prove,

flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified !-now is he for with you. To turn your households' rancour to pure love. the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura, to his

BEN. She will indite him to some supper. Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. lady, was a kitchen-wench ;—marry, she had a better MER. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho !

Rom. What hast thou found ? Fri. Wisely, and slow; they stumble, that run love to be-rhyme her : Dido, a dowdy ; Cleopatra, a fast.

[Exeunt. gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbé, Mer. No hare, sir ; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten

a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.—Signior pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your
SCENE IV.-A Street,
French slop; you gave us the counterfeit fairly last

An old hare hoar,

And an old hare hoar,
Rom. Good morrow to you both; what counter-

Is very good meat in Lent:
Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be ?— feit did I give you?

But a hare that is hoar,
Came he not home to-night?
Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; can you not con-

Is too much for a score,
Ben. Not to his father's ; I spoke with his man. ceive?

When it hoars ere it be spent. MER. Why, that same pale hard-hearted wench, Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was that Rosaline,

great ; and in such case as mine, a man may strain Romeo, will you come to your father's ? we'll to Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. courtesy.

dinner thither. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,

MER. That's as much as to say—such a case as Rom. I will follow you. Hath sent a letter to his father's house. yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.

Mer. Farewell, ancient lady ; farewell, lady, lady, MER. A challenge, on my life. Rom. Meaning—to court'sy.

lady. BEN. Romeo will answer it. Mer. Thou hast most kindly hit it.

[Excunt Mercurio and BenvoLIO. Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a Rom. A most courteous exposition.

NURSE. I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was letter.

Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. this, that was so full of his ropery.




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news :

Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear him. My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And, I warrant, a virtuous :—where is your mother? self talk; and will speak more in a minute, than he And his to me:

Jul. Where is my mother ?—why, she is within ; will stand to in a month.

But old folks, many feign as they were dead; Where should she be? how oddly thou reply'st : Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I 'll take Unwieldly, slow, heavy and pale as lead.

Your love says like an honest gentleman,him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty

Enter Nurse and PETER.

Where is your mother? such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall.


0, God's lady dear! Scurvy knave ! I am none of his flirt-gills ; I am none o God, she comes !-O honey nurse, what news ? Are you so hot? marry come up, I trow; of his skains-mates :-And thou must stand by too, Hast thou met with him ? send thy man away. Is the poultice for my aching bones? and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure. Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit Peter. Henceforward do your messages yourself.

Per. I saw no man use you at his pleasure ; if I Jul. Now, good sweet nurse,-O lord ! why look’st Jul. Here's such a coil ;-come, what says Romeo? had, my weapon should quickly have been out, I

thou sad?

Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift towarrant you : I dare draw as soon as another man, if Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily ;

day? I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on my If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news

Jul. I have. side. By playing it to me with so sour a face.

NURSE. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every NURSE. I am aweary, give me leave awhile ;

cell, part about me quivers. Scurvy knave!-pray you, sir, Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had ! There stays a husband to make you a wise : a word: and as I told you, my young lady bid me in- Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, quire you out ; what she bid me say, I will keep to

They 'll be in scarlet straight at any news. myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her. Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ;-good, good nurse, Hie you to church ; I must another way, into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very


To fetch a ladder, by the which your love gross kind of behaviour, as they say : for the gentle. NURSE. Jesu, what haste ? can you not stay awhile? Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark : woman is young; and, therefore, if you should deal Do you not see that I am out of breath?

I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; double with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered Júl. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast But you shall bear the burden soon at night. to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.


Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. ROM. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. To say to me—that thou art out of breath?

JUL. Hie to high fortune !—honest nurse, farewell. I protest unto thee, The excuse, that thou dost make in this delay,

(Exeunt. Nurse. Good heart ! and, i' faith, I will tell her as Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. much : Lord, lord, she will be a joyful woman.

Rom. 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.

Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at friar Laurence' cell
Be shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains.

NURSE. No, truly, sir ; not a penny.
Rom. Go to; I say, you shall.

Nurse. This afternoon, sir ? well, she 'shall be
Rom. 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

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you, sir.

Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse ?
NURSE. Is your man secret ? Did you ne'er hear

Two may keep counsel, putting one away?

Rom. 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, -Ó,-there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard ; but she, good soul, had as lieve 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 varsal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. Ay, nurse ; What of that? both with an R.

NURSE. Ah, mocker ! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other letter: and she hath the prettiest sententious of

NURSE. I am aweary, give me leave awhile. it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it. Is thy news good, or bad ? answer to that ;

SCENE VI.-Friar Laurence's Cell. Rom. Commend me to thy lady. [Exit. Şay either, and I 'll stay the circumstance :

Enter Friar LAURENCE and Romeo. NURSE. Ay, a thousand times.—Peter !

Let me be satisfied, is 't good or bad ? PETER, Anon.

NURSE. Well, you have made a simple choice ;

FRI. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, NURSE. Before, and apace.

[Exeunt. you know not how to choose a man : Romeo ! no, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not !
not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet

Rom. Amen, amen ! but come what sorrow can, his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy

and a body,—though they be not to be talk'd on, yet That one short minute gives me in her sight : SCENE V.-Capulet's Garden.

they are past compare : he is not the flower of Do thou but close our hands with holy words, Enter JULIET. courtesy,-but, I 'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb.

Then love-devouring death do what he dare ; Go thy ways, wench ; serve God :-what, have you It is enough I may but call her mine. JUL The clock struck nine, when I did send the dined at home?

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, nurse : JUL. No, no: but all this did I know before ;

And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder, In half an hour she promis'd to return.

What says he of our marriage ? what of that?

Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest honey Perchance, she cannot meet him :that's not so.- NURSE. Lord, how my head aches ! what a head Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, 0, she is lame ! love's heralds should be thoughts,

have I ?

And in the taste confounds the appetite: Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.

Therefore, love moderately; long love doth so; Driving back shadows over lowring hills :

My back o't' other side, O, my back, my back !

Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw Love, Beshrew your heart, for sending me about,
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.

Enter Juliet.
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill

JUL. I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well: Here comes the lady:-0, so light a foot of this day's journey ; and from nine till twelve Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint : Is three long hours,--yet she is not come,


A lover may bestride the gossamer Had she affections, and warm youthful blood,

NURSE. Your love says like an honest gentleman, That idles in the wanton summer air, She'd be as swift in motion as a ball ;

And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And yet not fall, so light is vanity.

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JUL. Good even to my ghostly confessor.

This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue,
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
JUL. As much to him, else is his thanks too much. Receive in either, by this dear encounter.
Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy

JUL. Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath

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.
Fri. 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. [Excunt.



SCENE I.-A Public Place. Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants.

Mer. And but one word with one of us ? couple it Tyb. What would'st thou have with me? Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let 's retire; with something ; make it a word and a blow.

Mer. Good king of cats, nothing but one of your The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,

TyB. You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as And, if we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl ;

will give me occasion.

you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. Mer. Could you not take some occasion without eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher Mer. Thou art like one of these fellows, that, when giving ?

by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,- ere it be out. upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? Tys. I am for you.

[Drawing. and, by the operation of the second cup, draws him on an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. the drawer, when, indeed, there is no need.

discords : here's my fiddlestick ; here's that shall MER, Come, sir, your passado. [They fight. Ben. Am I like such a fellow ? make you dance. 'Zounds, consort !

Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. Mer. Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage ;

Tybalt,-Mercutio,-the prince expressly hath
Forbidden bandying in Verona streets :-
Hold, Tybalt ;—good Mercutio.

(Exeunt TYBALT and his partizans. Mer.

I am hurt.-
A plague o' both the houses !-I am sped :
Is he gone, and hath nothing ?

What, art thou hurt ?
MER. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry, 'tis

enough ; Where is my page ?-go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

[Exit Page. Rom. Courage, man ; the hurt cannot be much.

MER. 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.

Rom. I thought all for the best.

MER. Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint: a plague o' both your houses !
They have made worm's meat of me;
I have it, and soundly too :-your houses !

Rom. 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 cousin - sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.
BEN. O Romeo, Romeo! brave Mercutio 's dead;

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Mer. I am hurt -A plague o' both the houses !-1 am sped.

Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, Either withdraw into some private place,

depend; and as suon moody to be moved. Or reason coldly of your grievances,

This but begins the woe, others must end.
BEN. And what too?

Or else depart ; here all eyes gaze on us.
Mer. Nay, an there were two such, we should MER. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them

Re-enter TYBALT. have none shortly, for one would kill the other.


Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Thou ! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Rom. Alive in triumph! and Mercutio slain ! hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast. Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir ! here comes my Away to heaven, respective lenity, Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, hav

And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now!ing no other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes ; Mer. But I'll be hang’d, sir, if he wear your livery: Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, what eye, but such an eye, would spy out such a Marry, go before to field, he 'll be your follower ; That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul quarrel? Thy head is as full of quarrels, as an egg is Your worship, in that sense, may call him-man. Is but a little way above our heads, full of meat ; and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg, for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled

Enter ROMEO.

Staying for thine to keep him company;

Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee, can afford

TYB. Thou wretched boy, that didst consort him wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. No better term than this—Thou art a villain.

here, Didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee,

Shalt with him hence. doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new Doth much excuse the appertaining rage


This shall determine that. shoes with old riband ? and yet thou wilt tutor me To such a greeting : Villain am I none; from quarrelling!

[They fight; TYBALT falls. Therefore farewell ; I see, thou know'st me not. Ben. Romeo, away, be gone! Ben. An I were so 'apt to quarrel as thou art, any TYB, Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and draw.

Stand not amaz’d:—the prince will doom thee death, and a quarter.

Rom. I do protest, I never injured thee ;

If thou art taken :-hence !-be gone!-away! MER. The fee-simple? O simple ! But love thee better than thou canst devise,

Rom. O! I am fortune's fool! Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Till thou shalt know the reason of my love :


Why dost thou stay? Mer. By my heel, I care not. And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender

[Exit ROMEO.
As dearly as mine own,-be satisfied.
Enter TYBALT and others.

Enter Citizens, &c.
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission !
Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them.- A la stoccata carries it away.–

[Draws. i Cit. Which way ran he, that killd Mercutio ? Gentlemen, good den ; a word with one of you. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he ?




Bex. There lies that Tybalt.

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night, When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled it ?i Cit.

Up, sir, go with me; Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die, But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. Take him and cut him out in little stars,

That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband : And he will make the face of heaven so fine,

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; Enter PRINCE, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET,

That all the world will be in love with night, Your tributary drops belong to woe,
their Wives and others.
And pay no worship to the garish sun.-

Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
Prix. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? 0, I have bought the mansion of a love,

My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain ; BEN. O noble prince, I can discover all But not possess'd it; and, though I am sold,

And Tybalt 's dead, that would have slain my husThe unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day,

band :
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
As is the night before some festival

All this is comfort ; wherefore weep I then ?
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
To an impatient child, that hath new robes,

Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, LA. CAP. Tyball, my cousin !-O my brother's And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, That murder'd me: I would forget it fain ; child !

And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But, O! it presses to my memory,
O prince ! O cousin! husband ! O the blood is spill’d But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. -- Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds :
Of my dear kinsman!-Prince, as thou art true,

Enter Nurse, with cords.

Tyba!! is dead, and Romeo-banished; For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-

That-banished, that one word-banished, Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death O cousin, cousin!

cords, Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?

Was woe enough, if it had ended there : Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did That Romeo bid thee fetch?

Or,—if sour woe delights in fellowship, NURSE. slay;

Ay, ay, the cords.

And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, Romeo that spoke him fair, bid him bethink

[Throws them down. Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's dead,

Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou wring thy' Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal

hands? Your high displeasure: all this-uttered

Which modern lamentation might have mov'd ?

Nurse. Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,

he's dead ! Could not take truce with the unruly spleen,

Romeo is banished,

-to speak that word,
Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
We are undone, lady, we are undone !

Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast;
Alack the day !-he's gone, he's killed, he's dead !

All slain, all dead :-Romeo is banished!

Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

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

Romeo can,
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats

In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. -
Cold death aside, and with the other sends
Though heaven cannot :-0 Romeo ! Romeo !-

Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity
Who ever would have thought it ?-Romeo !

Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse :

JUL. What devil art thou, that dost torment me Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,

thus ? Hold, friends! friends, part! and, swister than his This torture should be roard in dismal hell.

Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears; mine shall tongue,

be spent,
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,
His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm

Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguild,
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice :
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd :
I am not I, if there be such an I;
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;

He made you for a highway to my bed ;
Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, 1.
But by and by comes back to Romeo,

But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
If he be slain, say-1 ; or if not-no:

Come, cords ; come, nurse ; I'll to my wedding bed ;
Brief sounds determine of my weal, or woe.
And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I

And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead ! Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine

NURSE. Hie to your chamber : I'll find Romeo

eyes, — And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly:

To comfort you :- I wot well where he is.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
God save the mark !-here on his manly breast :

Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night ;
LA. CAP. He is a kinsman to the Montague,
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse ;

I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
Affection makes him false, he speaks not true:
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,

JUL. O find him ! give this ring to my true knight,
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
All in gore blood ;-I swounded at the sight.

And bid him come to take his last farewell.
And all those twenty could but kill one life:
Jul. O break, my heart !-poor bankrupt, break

[Exeunt. at once! I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

To prison, eyes ! ne'er look on liberty !
Prix. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here ;

SCENE III.-Friar Laurence's Ceil.
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier ! Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's

NURSE. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had ! Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. friend; O courteous Tybalt ! honest gentleman !

Fri. Romeo, come forth ; come forth, thou fearful That ever I should live to see thee dead ! His fault concludes but, what the law should end, The life of Tybalt.

JUL. What storm is this, that_blows so contrary? AMiction is enamour'd of thy parts,

And thou art wedded to calamity.
And, for that offence,

Is Romeo slaughtered ? and is Tybalt dead ?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord ?--

Rom. Father, what news? what is the prince's
Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an interest in your hates' proceeding,
Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom !

For who is living, if those two are gone?

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding;
But I 'll amerce you with so strong a fine,

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished ; That I yet know not ?
Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.


Too familiar
That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;

Jul.'o God !-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's Is my dear son with such sour company:
blood ?

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,

Nurse. It did, it did ; alas the day; it did. Rom. What less than doom's-day is the prince's
Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face !

doom? Bear hence this body, and attend our will: Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Fri. A gentler judgment varish'd from his lips, Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. Beautiful tyrant ! fiend angelical !

Not body's death, but body's banishment.

Dove-feather'd raven ! wolvish-ravening lamb! Rom. Ha ! banishment ? be merciful, say-death :
Despised substance of divinest show!

For exile hath more terror in his look,
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,

Much more than death: do not say—banishment.
A damned saint, an honourable villain !

Fri. Here from Verona art thou banished:
SCENE II.-A Room in Capulet's House. O, nature ! what hadst thou to do in hell,

Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend

Rom. There is no world without Verona walls,
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ?-

But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
JUL. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Was ever book, containing such vile matter,

Hence banished, is, banish'd from the world,
Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell

And world's exile is death :-then-banished
As Phaeton would whip you to the west,
In such a gorgeous palace !

Is death mis-term’d: calling death, banishment, And bring in cloudy night immediately.

There's no trust,

Thou cutt’st my head off with a golden axe,
Spread thy close curtain, love performing night! No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur’d,

And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. That run-aways' eyes may wink, and Romeo All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.

Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankfulness !
Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen! Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ :- Thy fault our law calls death ; but the kind prince,
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
By their own beauties: or, if love be blind,
Shame come to Romeo !

And turn'd that black word, death, to banishment : It best agrees with night. - Come, civil night,


Blister'd be thy tongue, This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
For such a wish! he was not born to shame :

Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit ;

Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:

For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd And little mouse, every unworthy thing, Hood my unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks, Sole monarch of the universal earth.

Live here in heaven, and may look on her, With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, 0, what a beast was I to chide at him!

But Romeo may not. - More validity, Think true love acted, simple modesty.

Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd'More honourable state, more courtship lives Come, night! come, Romeo! come, thou day in night!

In carrion flies, than Romeo ; they may seize For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

JUL. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband ? On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand, Whiter than snow upon a raven's back.

Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, And steal immortal blessing from her lips;



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