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,

ACT III.

SCENE I. A public Place.

Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.
Ben. 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 stir-
ring.

Mer. 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.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow.

Mer. 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. Ben. And what to ?

Mer. 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

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. Jul. Hie to high fortune !-honest nurse, fare-such an eye, would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full 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

well.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's Cell.

Enter Friar Laurence and Romeo.

Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet
That after-hours with sorrow chide as not!
Rom. 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.

Fri. 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:

before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. 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.

Mer. The fee simple ? O simple!

Enter Tybalt, and Others.

Ben. By my head, here comes the Capulets.
Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to

them.

Therefore, love moderately: long love doth so; Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.

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 gossomers
That idle in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall: so light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghostly confessor.
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us

both.

Jul.. As much to him, else are his thanks too

much.

Rom. 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 musick's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tyb You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,Mer. Consort! what, dost thou make us min. strels? 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!

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw into some private place,
Or reason colaly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let
them gaze;

Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in I will not budge for no man's pleasure, 1.

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 half my sum of 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.
[Exeunt.

Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love | That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul

thee

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting-Villain am I none;
Therefore, farewell; I see, thou know'st me not.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and
draw.

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.
Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that did consort
him here,

Shalt with him hence.
Rom.

This shall determine that.
[They fight: Tybalt falls.
Ben. Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :
Stand not amaz'd:-the prince will doom thee
death,

If thou art taken :-hence !-be gone 7-away!
Rom. O! I am fortune's fool!
Ben.

Why dost thou stay?
[Exit Romeo.

Enter Citizens, &c.

Rom. 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 mine own,-be satisfied.
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
A la stoccata carries it away.
[Draws.
Tybalt, you rat catcher, will you walk 7
Tyb. What would'st thou have with me?
Mer. 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, dry-
1 Cit. Which way ran he, that kill'd Mercutio?
beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.1 Cit.
Up, sir, go with me;
Tyb. I am for you.
[Drawing.
I charge thee in the prince's name, obey.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet,
Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight.
their Wives, and Others.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio:
Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for

shame

Forbear this outrage;-Tybalt-Mercutio-
The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying
In Verona streets-hold, Tybalt ;-good Mer-
cutio. [Ercunt Tybalt and his Partisans.
Mer. I am hurt :-

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

Ben.

What, art thou hurt? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.Where my page ?-go, villain, fetch a sur[Exit Page. Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

geon.

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!

[Exeunt Mercutio and Benvolio.
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 kinsman :-O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.

Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this
fray ?

Ben. Onoble 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.
La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's
child!

Unhappy sight! ah me, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman !-Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand
did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure:-All this-uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly
bow'd,-
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
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 fied:
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
And to't they go like lightning; for, ere 1
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.

La. Cap. 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.

Prin. Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's
friend;

His fault concludes but, what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.

Prin.

And, for that offence, [Immediately we do exile him hence:

I have an interest in your hates' proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleed-
ing:

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 his body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House.
Enter Juliet.

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' mansion; such a wagoner
As Phaeton, would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.-
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night!
That run-away'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, Roineo! 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.-
0, 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,

Enter Nurse, with Cords.

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; 1 swoonded at the sight.
Jul. O break, my heart !-poor bankrupt, break

at once!

To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; and 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!
Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd: and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?
Then dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
For who is living, it those two are gone?
Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished.
Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's
blood?

Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day! it did.
Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring 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 mortal 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 perjur'd,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.-
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua
vita:-

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

Shame come to Romeo!

Jul.
Blister'd be thy tongue,
For such a wish! he was not born to shame :
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beast was 1 to chide at him!
Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd
your cousin?

And she brings news: and every tongue, that Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my hus speaks

But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence-Ah,
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there,
the cords,

That Romeo bade thee fetch?
Nurse.

Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws them down. Jul. Ah 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;

band?

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 hus
band:

Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
Your tributary drops belong to wo,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; dead!

Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse.

Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot :-O Romeo! Eomeo -
Who ever would have thought it ?-Romeo!
Jul. 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 1, 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 wo.

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 wo enough, if it had ended there:
Or,-if sour wo delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs --
Why follow'd not, when she said--Tybalt's

Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern lamentation might have mov'd?
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 wo
Bound.--

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. Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall be spent,

When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.

Flies may do this, when 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-banishment 7
Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak
a word.

Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;

Take up those cords:-Poor ropes, you are be-Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,

guil'd,

Both you and I; for Romeo is exil'd:

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 yon:-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.
Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true
knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.

death:

For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death: do not say-banishment.
Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished:
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
Rom. 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 banishment
I death misterm'd: calling death-banishment,
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me.
Fri. 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.
Rom. "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 may seizs
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:

To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. 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."
Fri. O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
Rom. How should they, when that wise men
have no eyes?

Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of what 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 might'st thou speak, then might'st thou
tear thy hair,

And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Fri. Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide
thyself.
[Knocking within.
Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heart-sick
groans,

Mistlike, infold me from the search of eyes.

[Knocking. Fri. 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 wilfulness is this?-1 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.
Fri.

Welcome then.

And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
And then falls down again.
Rom.

Fri.

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.
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 amaz'd me: by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition ter temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay 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 would'st lose.

Fie, fie! thou sham'st 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 che-
rish:

Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask,
Is set on fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thon wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art 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 upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehav'd 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 staid here all the
night,

To hear good counsel: O, what learning is !-
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Rom. 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 Nurse.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Fri. Go hence: Good night! and here stands
all your state;

Either be gone before the watch be set.
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence:

Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
Aud he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here:
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good
night.

Rom. 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. Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, That we have had no time to move our daughter; Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly; And so did I;--Well, we were born to die.'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: promise you, but for your company,

I

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Par. These times of wo afford no time to woo,
Madam, good night: commend me to your
daughter.

La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to

morrow:

To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love: I think, she will be rul'd
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?
Par.
Monday, my lord.
Cap. 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 Thurs
day?

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to

morrow.

Cap. 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 late, that we

May call it early by and by :-Good night.
[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Juliet's Chamber.

Enter Romeo and Juliet.

Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom. 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.
Jul. Yon light is not daylight, 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.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say, yon gray 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,