Byrne English Honors 1: October 2014

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

Enter JULIET alone.

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

           Enter NURSE, with cords.

34   Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
35   That Romeo bid thee fetch?

      Nurse
35                                                Ay, ay, the cords.

      JULIET
36   Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?

      Nurse
37   Ah, weraday! He's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
38   We are undone, lady, we are undone!
39   Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!

      JULIET
40   Can heaven be so envious?

      Nurse
40                                           Romeo can,
41   Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
42   Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

      JULIET
43   What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
44   This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
45   Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but "ay,"
46   And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more
47   Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
48   I am not I, if there be such an "ay";
49   Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer "ay."
50   If he be slain, say "ay"; or if not, "no":
51   Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.

      Nurse
52   I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,—
53   God save the mark!—here on his manly breast:
54   A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
55   Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
56   All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.

      JULIET
57   O, break, my heart! Poor bankrupt, break at once!
58   To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
59   Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
60   And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!

      Nurse
61   O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
62   O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
63   That ever I should live to see thee dead!

      JULIET
64   What storm is this that blows so contrary?
65   Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
66   My dearest cousin, and my dearer lord?
67   Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
68   For who is living, if those two are gone?

      Nurse
69   Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
70   Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

      JULIET
71   O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

      Nurse
72   It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

      JULIET
73   O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
74   Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
75   Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
76   Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
77   Despised substance of divinest show!
78   Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
79   A damned saint, an honorable villain!
80   O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
81   When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
82   In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
83   Was ever book containing such vile matter
84   So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
85   In such a gorgeous palace!

      Nurse
85                                                 There's no trust,
86   No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
87   All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
88   Ah, where's my man? Give me some aqua vita;
89   These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
90   Shame come to Romeo!

      JULIET
90                                         Blister'd be thy tongue
91   For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
92   Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
93   For 'tis a throne where honor may be crown'd
94   Sole monarch of the universal earth.
95   O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

      Nurse
96   Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?

      JULIET
97   Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
98   Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
99   When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
100   But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
101   That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband.
102   Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
103   Your tributary drops belong to woe,
104   Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
105   My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
106   And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:
107   All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
108   Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
109   That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
110   But, O, it presses to my memory,
111   Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
112   "Tybalt is dead, and Romeo—banished."
113   That "banished," that one word "banished,"
114   Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
115   Was woe enough, if it had ended there;
116   Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
117   And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
118   Why follow'd not, when she said "Tybalt's dead,"
119   Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
120   Which modern lamentations might have moved,
121   But with a rearward following Tybalt's death,
122   "Romeo is banished"? To speak that word,
123   Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
124   All slain, all dead. "Romeo is banished!"
125   There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
126   In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
127   Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

      Nurse
128   Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse.
129   Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

      JULIET
130   Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,
131   When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
132   Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,
133   Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:
134   He made you for a highway to my bed;
135   But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
136   Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;
137   And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!

      Nurse
138   Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo
139   To comfort you: I wot well where he is.
140   Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night.
141   I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

      JULIET
142   O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
143   And bid him come to take his last farewell.

           Exeunt.

Enters FRIAR [LAURENCE].

      FRIAR LAURENCE
  1   Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:
  2   Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
  3   And thou art wedded to calamity.

           [Enter] ROMEO.

      ROMEO
  4   Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
  5   What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
  6   That I yet know not?

      FRIAR LAURENCE
  6                                  Too familiar
  7   Is my dear son with such sour company:
  8   I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

      ROMEO
  9   What less than doomsday is the prince's doom?

      FRIAR LAURENCE
10   A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
11   Not body's death, but body's banishment.

      ROMEO
12   Ha, banishment! be merciful, say "death";
13   For exile hath more terror in his look,
14   Much more than death: do not say "banishment."

      FRIAR LAURENCE
15   Hence from Verona art thou banished:
16   Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

      ROMEO
17   There is no world without Verona walls,
18   But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
19   Hence "banished" is banish'd from the world,
20   And world's exile is death: then "banished"
21   Is death mis-term'd: calling death "banished,"
22   Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
23   And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
24   O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
25   Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
26   Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
27   And turn'd that black word "death" to "banishment."
28   This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.

      ROMEO
29   'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
30   Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
31   And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
32   Live here in heaven and may look on her;
33   But Romeo may not. More validity,
34   More honourable state, more courtship lives
35   In carrion-flies than Romeo: they may seize
36   On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
37   And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
38   Who even in pure and vestal modesty,
39   Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
40   But Romeo may not; he is banished:
41   Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
42   They are free men, but I am banished.
43   And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?
44   Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
45   No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
46   But "banished" to kill me? "Banished"?
47   O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
48   Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
49   Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
50   A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
51   To mangle me with that word "banished"?

      FRIAR LAURENCE
52   Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.

      ROMEO
53   O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
54   I'll give thee armour to keep off that word:
55   Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
56   To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

      ROMEO
57   Yet "banished"? Hang up philosophy!
58   Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
59   Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
60   It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
61   O, then I see that madmen have no ears.

      ROMEO
62   How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

      FRIAR LAURENCE
63   Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.

      ROMEO
64   Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
65   Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
66   An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
67   Doting like me and like me banished,
68   Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
69   And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
70   Taking the measure of an unmade grave.

           Enter Nurse [within] and knock.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
71   Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.

      ROMEO
72   Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
73   Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.

           Knock.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
74   Hark, how they knock!—Who's there?—Romeo, arise;
75   Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile!—Stand up;

           Knock.

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

           Knock.

78   Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?

      Nurse [Within.]
79   Let me come in, and you shall know my errand;
80   I come from Lady Juliet.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
80                                     Welcome, then.

           Enter NURSE.

      Nurse
81   O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
82   Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?

      FRIAR LAURENCE
83   There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.

      Nurse
84   O, he is even in my mistress' case,
85   Just in her case! O woful sympathy!
86   Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
87   Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
88   Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:
89   For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
90   Why should you fall into so deep an O?

      ROMEO
91   Nurse!

      Nurse
92   Ah sir! ah sir! Death's the end of all.

      ROMEO
93   Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
94   Doth she not think me an old murderer,
95   Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
96   With blood removed but little from her own?
97   Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
98   My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

      Nurse
99   O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
100   And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
101   And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
102   And then down falls again.

      ROMEO
102                                        As if that name,
103   Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
104   Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
105   Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
106   In what vile part of this anatomy
107   Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
108   The hateful mansion.

      FRIAR LAURENCE
108                                   Hold thy desperate hand:
109   Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:
110   Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
111   The unreasonable fury of a beast:
112   Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
113   Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both,
114   Thou hast amazed me! By my holy order,
115   I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
116   Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
117   And slay thy lady that in thy life lives,
118   By doing damned hate upon thyself?
119   Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven and earth?
120   Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet
121   In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
122   Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;
123   Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
124   And usest none in that true use indeed
125   Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit.
126   Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
127   Digressing from the valour of a man;
128   Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
129   Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
130   Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
131   Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
132   Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
133   Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
134   And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
135   What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
136   For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
137   There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
138   But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:
139   The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
140   And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
141   A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;
142   Happiness courts thee in her best array;
143   But, like a mishaved and sullen wench,
144   Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love.
145   Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
146   Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
147   Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her.
148   But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
149   For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
150   Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
151   To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
152   Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
153   With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
154   Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
155   Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
156   And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
157   Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
158   Romeo is coming.

      Nurse
159   O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
160   To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!
161   My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

      ROMEO
162   Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

      Nurse
163   Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:
164   Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.

           [Exit Nurse.]

      ROMEO
165   How well my comfort is revived by this!

      FRIAR LAURENCE
166   Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
167   Either be gone before the watch be set,
168   Or by the break of day disguised from hence.
169   Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
170   And he shall signify from time to time
171   Every good hap to you that chances here:
172   Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.

      ROMEO
173   But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
174   It were a grief, so brief to part with thee.
175    Farewell.

           Exeunt.

Scene 4

A room in Capulet’s house.

(Capulet; Lady Capulet; Paris)

Enter old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris.

CAP.

Things have fall’n 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 tonight.

I promise you, but for your company,

I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

PAR.

These times of woe afford no times to woo.

Madam, good night, commend me to your daughter.

LA. CAP.

I will, and know her mind early tomorrow;

Tonight she’s mewed up to her heaviness.

Paris offers to go in, and Capulet calls him again.

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 We’n’sday next—

But soft, what day is this?

PAR.

Monday, my lord.

CAP.

Monday! Ha, ha! Well, We’n’sday is too soon,

A’ Thursday let it be—a’ 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?

PAR.

My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow.

CAP.

Well, get you gone, a’ 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 5

Capulet’s orchard and Juliet’s chamber.

(Romeo; Juliet; Nurse; Lady Capulet; Capulet)

Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft at the window.

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 yond 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.

Yond light is not day-light, I know it, I;

It is some meteor that the sun exhal’d

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 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.

JUL.

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 chang’d 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.

ROM.

More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!

Enter Nurse hastily.

NURSE.

Madam!

JUL.

Nurse?

NURSE.

Your lady mother is coming to your chamber.

The day is broke, be wary, look about.

Exit.

JUL.

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

ROM.

Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I’ll descend.

He goeth down.

JUL.

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!

ROM.

From below.

Farewell!

I will omit no opportunity

That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

JUL.

O, think’st thou we shall ever meet again?

ROM.

I doubt it not, and all these woes shall serve

For sweet discourses in our times to come.

JUL.

O God, I have an ill-divining soul!

Methinks I see thee now, thou art so low,

As one dead in the bottom of a tomb.

Either my eyesight fails, or thou lookest pale.

ROM.

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

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

Exit.

JUL.

O Fortune, Fortune, all men call thee fickle;

If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him

That is renowm’d for faith? Be fickle, Fortune:

For then I hope thou wilt not keep him long,

But send him back.

LA. CAP.

Within.

Ho, daughter, are you up?

JUL.

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

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

What unaccustom’d cause procures her hither?

She goeth down from the window.

Enter Mother, Lady Capulet.

LA. CAP.

Why, how now, Juliet?

JUL.

Madam, I am not well.

LA. CAP.

Evermore weeping for your cousin’s death?

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

And if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;

Therefore have done. Some grief shows much of love,

But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

JUL.

Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

LA. CAP.

So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend

Which you weep for.

JUL.

Feeling so the loss,

I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

LA. CAP.

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

As that the villain lives which slaughter’d him.

JUL.

What villain, madam?

LA. CAP.

That same villain Romeo.

JUL.

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.

LA. CAP.

That is because the traitor murderer lives.

JUL.

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

Would none but I might venge my cousin’s death!

LA. CAP.

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.

JUL.

Indeed I never shall be satisfied

With Romeo, till I behold him—dead—

Is my poor heart, so 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 nam’d, and cannot come to him

To wreak the love I bore my cousin

Upon his body that hath slaughter’d him!

LA. CAP.

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

But now I’ll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

JUL.

And joy comes well in such a needy time.

What are they, beseech your ladyship?

LA. CAP.

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

One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,

Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,

That thou expects not, nor I look’d not for.

JUL.

Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

LA. CAP.

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.

JUL.

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!

LA. CAP.

Here comes your father, tell him so yourself;

And see how he will take it at your hands.

Enter Capulet and Nurse.

CAP.

When the sun sets, the earth doth drizzle dew,

But for the sunset of my brother’s son

It rains downright.

How now, a conduit, girl? What, still in tears?

Evermore show’ring? In one little body

Thou counterfeits a bark, a sea, a wind:

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

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

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

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

Without a sudden calm, will overset

Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife?

Have you delivered to her our decree?

LA. CAP.

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

I would the fool were married to her grave!

CAP.

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 bride?

JUL.

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.

CAP.

How how, how how, chopp’d 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!

LA. CAP.

Fie, fie, what, are you mad?

JUL.

Good father, I beseech you on my knees,

Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

She kneels down.

CAP.

Hang thee, young baggage! Disobedient wretch!

I tell thee what: get thee to church a’ 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.

CAP.

And why, my Lady Wisdom? Hold your tongue,

Good Prudence, smatter with your gossips, go.

NURSE.

I speak no treason.

CAP.

O, God-i-goden!

NURSE.

May not one speak?

CAP.

Peace, you mumbling fool!

Utter your gravity o’er a gossip’s bowl,

For here we need it not.

LA. CAP.

You are too hot.

CAP.

God’s bread, it makes me mad! Day, night, 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 lien’d,

Stuff’d, as they say, with honorable 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 and 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.

And 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.

JUL.

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.

LA. CAP.

Talk not to me, for I’ll not speak a word.

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

Exit.

JUL.

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 practice 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 banished, and all the world to nothing

That he dares ne’er come back to challenge you;

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

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. Beshrow 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.

JUL.

Speak’st thou from thy heart?

NURSE.

And from my soul too, else beshrew them both.

JUL.

Amen!

NURSE.

What?

JUL.

Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.

Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,

Having displeas’d my father, to Lawrence’ cell,

To make confession and to be absolv’d.

NURSE.

Marry, I will, and this is wisely done.

Exit.

JUL.

She looks after Nurse.

Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!

Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,

Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue

Which she hath prais’d 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.

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