|
3
Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
4
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
5
That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
6
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
7
Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
8
Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,
9
But to his foe supposed he must complain,
10
And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:
11
Being held a foe, he may not have access
12
To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
13
And she as much in love, her means much less
14
To meet her new-beloved any where:
15
But passion lends them power, time means, to meet
16
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
1
A lane by the wall of Capulet’s orchard.
4
Can I go forward when my heart is here?
5
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
6
[He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it]
7
[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
9
Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
12
And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
14
He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
17
Nay, I'll conjure too.
18
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
19
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
20
Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
21
Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
22
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
23
One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
24
Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
25
When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
26
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
27
The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
28
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
29
By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
30
By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
31
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
32
That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
34
And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
36
This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
37
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
38
Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
39
Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
40
That were some spite: my invocation
41
Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
42
I conjure only but to raise up him.
44
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
45
To be consorted with the humorous night:
46
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
48
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
49
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
50
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
51
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
52
Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
53
An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
54
Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
55
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
58
Go, then; for 'tis in vain
59
To seek him here that means not to be found.
4
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
5
[JULIET appears above at a window]
6
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
7
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
8
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
9
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
10
That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
11
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
12
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
13
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
14
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
15
O, that she knew she were!
16
She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
17
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
18
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
19
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
20
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
21
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
22
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
23
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
24
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
25
Would through the airy region stream so bright
26
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
27
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
28
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
29
That I might touch that cheek!
34
O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
35
As glorious to this night, being o'er my head
36
As is a winged messenger of heaven
37
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
38
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
39
When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
40
And sails upon the bosom of the air.
42
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
43
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
44
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
45
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
47
[Aside]Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
49
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
50
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
51
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
52
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
53
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
54
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
55
By any other name would smell as sweet;
56
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
57
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
58
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
59
And for that name which is no part of thee
62
I take thee at thy word:
63
Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
64
Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
66
What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night
67
So stumblest on my counsel?
70
I know not how to tell thee who I am:
71
My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
72
Because it is an enemy to thee;
73
Had I it written, I would tear the word.
75
My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
76
Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:
77
Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
79
Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
81
How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
82
The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
83
And the place death, considering who thou art,
84
If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
86
With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
87
For stony limits cannot hold love out,
88
And what love can do that dares love attempt;
89
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
91
If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
93
Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
94
Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
95
And I am proof against their enmity.
97
I would not for the world they saw thee here.
99
I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
100
And but thou love me, let them find me here:
101
My life were better ended by their hate,
102
Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
104
By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
106
By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
107
He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
108
I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
109
As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
110
I would adventure for such merchandise.
112
Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
113
Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
114
For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night
115
Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
116
What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
117
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'
118
And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,
119
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
120
Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
121
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
122
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
123
I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,
124
So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
125
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
126
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
127
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
128
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
129
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
130
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
131
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,
132
And not impute this yielding to light love,
133
Which the dark night hath so discovered.
135
Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear
136
That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops—
138
O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
139
That monthly changes in her circled orb,
140
Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
142
What shall I swear by?
145
Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
146
Which is the god of my idolatry,
147
And I'll believe thee.
149
If my heart's dear love—
151
Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
152
I have no joy of this contract to-night:
153
It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
154
Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
155
Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
156
This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
157
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
158
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
159
Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
161
O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
163
What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
165
The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
167
I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
168
And yet I would it were to give again.
170
Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
172
But to be frank, and give it thee again.
173
And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
174
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
175
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
176
The more I have, for both are infinite.
178
I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
179
Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
180
Stay but a little, I will come again.
183
O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
184
Being in night, all this is but a dream,
185
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
186
[Re-enter JULIET, above]
188
Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
189
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
190
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
191
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
192
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
193
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
194
And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
198
I come, anon.—But if thou mean'st not well,
204
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
205
To-morrow will I send.
209
A thousand times good night!
212
A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
213
Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from
215
But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.
217
[Re-enter JULIET, above]
219
Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,
220
To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
221
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
222
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
223
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
224
With repetition of my Romeo's name.
226
It is my soul that calls upon my name:
227
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
228
Like softest music to attending ears!
234
At what o'clock to-morrow
235
Shall I send to thee?
239
I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.
240
I have forgot why I did call thee back.
242
Let me stand here till thou remember it.
244
I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
245
Remembering how I love thy company.
247
And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
248
Forgetting any other home but this.
250
'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
251
And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
252
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
253
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
254
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
255
So loving-jealous of his liberty.
257
I would I were thy bird.
260
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
261
Good night, good night! parting is such
263
That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
266
Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
267
Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
268
Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
269
His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
2
[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket]
4
The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
5
Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
6
And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
7
From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
8
Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
9
The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
10
I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
11
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
12
The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
13
What is her burying grave that is her womb,
14
And from her womb children of divers kind
15
We sucking on her natural bosom find,
16
Many for many virtues excellent,
17
None but for some and yet all different.
18
O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
19
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
20
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
21
But to the earth some special good doth give,
22
Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
23
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
24
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
25
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
26
Within the infant rind of this small flower
27
Poison hath residence and medicine power:
28
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
29
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
30
Two such opposed kings encamp them still
31
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
32
And where the worser is predominant,
33
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
39
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
40
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head
41
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:
42
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
43
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
44
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
45
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:
46
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
47
Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;
48
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
49
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
51
That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
53
God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
55
With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
56
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
58
That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then?
60
I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
61
I have been feasting with mine enemy,
62
Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,
63
That's by me wounded: both our remedies
64
Within thy help and holy physic lies:
65
I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
66
My intercession likewise steads my foe.
68
Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
69
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
71
Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
72
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
73
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
74
And all combined, save what thou must combine
75
By holy marriage: when and where and how
76
We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,
77
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
78
That thou consent to marry us to-day.
80
Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
81
Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
82
So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies
83
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
84
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
85
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
86
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
87
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
88
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
89
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
90
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
91
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
92
If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
93
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:
94
And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,
95
Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
97
Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
99
For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
101
And bad'st me bury love.
104
To lay one in, another out to have.
106
I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
107
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
108
The other did not so.
111
Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.
112
But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
113
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
114
For this alliance may so happy prove,
115
To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
117
O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
119
Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
2
[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
4
Where the devil should this Romeo be?
5
Came he not home to-night?
7
Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
9
Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
10
Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
12
Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
13
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
15
A challenge, on my life.
19
Any man that can write may answer a letter.
21
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
24
Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
25
white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
26
love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
27
blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
32
More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
33
the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
34
you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
35
proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and
36
the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk
37
button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
38
very first house, of the first and second cause:
39
ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
44
The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
45
fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
46
a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
47
whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
48
grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
49
these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
50
perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,
51
that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
55
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
57
Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
58
how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
59
that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
60
kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
61
be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
62
Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
63
eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
64
Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
65
to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
68
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
70
The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
72
Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in
73
such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
75
That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
76
constrains a man to bow in the hams.
80
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
82
A most courteous exposition.
84
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
90
Why, then is my pump well flowered.
92
Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
93
worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
94
is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
96
O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
99
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
101
Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
103
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
104
done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
105
thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
106
was I with you there for the goose?
108
Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast
109
not there for the goose.
111
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
113
Nay, good goose, bite not.
115
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
118
And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?
120
O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
121
inch narrow to an ell broad!
123
I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added
124
to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
126
Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
127
now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
128
thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
129
for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
130
that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
132
Stop there, stop there.
134
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
136
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
138
O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
139
for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
140
meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
143
[Enter Nurse and PETER]
147
Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
155
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
158
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
160
God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
164
'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
165
dial is now upon the prick of noon.
167
Out upon you! what a man are you!
169
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to
172
By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,'
173
quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I
174
may find the young Romeo?
176
I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when
177
you have found him than he was when you sought him:
178
I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.
182
Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
185
if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with
188
She will indite him to some supper.
190
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
192
What hast thou found?
194
No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
195
that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
198
And an old hare hoar,
199
Is very good meat in lent
200
But a hare that is hoar
201
Is too much for a score,
202
When it hoars ere it be spent.
203
Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
208
Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
211
[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO]
213
Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy
214
merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?
216
A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,
217
and will speak more in a minute than he will stand
220
An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him
221
down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such
222
Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall.
223
Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am
224
none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by
225
too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
227
I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon
228
should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare
229
draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a
230
good quarrel, and the law on my side.
232
Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about
233
me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:
234
and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you
235
out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:
236
but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into
237
a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
238
kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman
239
is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
240
with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered
241
to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
243
Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I
246
Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:
247
Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
249
What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
251
I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
252
I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
255
Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
256
And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
257
Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
259
No truly sir; not a penny.
261
Go to; I say you shall.
263
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
265
And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
266
Within this hour my man shall be with thee
267
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
268
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
269
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
270
Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:
271
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
273
Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
275
What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
277
Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
278
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
280
I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
282
Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady—Lord,
283
Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:—O, there
284
is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
285
lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
286
see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her
287
sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer
288
man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
289
as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
290
rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
292
Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
294
Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for
295
the—No; I know it begins with some other
296
letter:—and she hath the prettiest sententious of
297
it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
300
Commend me to thy lady.
302
Ay, a thousand times.
308
Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
4
The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
5
In half an hour she promised to return.
6
Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so.
7
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
8
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
9
Driving back shadows over louring hills:
10
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
11
And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
12
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
13
Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
14
Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
15
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
16
She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
17
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
19
But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
20
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
22
[Enter Nurse and PETER]
23
O honey nurse, what news?
24
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
26
Peter, stay at the gate.
29
Now, good sweet nurse,—O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
30
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
31
If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
32
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
34
I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
35
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
37
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
38
Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
40
Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
41
Do you not see that I am out of breath?
43
How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
44
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
45
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
46
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
47
Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
48
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
49
Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
51
Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not
52
how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his
53
face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels
54
all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
55
though they be not to be talked on, yet they are
56
past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,
57
but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
58
ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?
60
No, no: but all this did I know before.
61
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
63
Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
64
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
65
My back o' t' other side,—O, my back, my back!
66
Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
67
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
69
I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
70
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
72
Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a
73
courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I
74
warrant, a virtuous,—Where is your mother?
76
Where is my mother! why, she is within;
77
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
78
'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
79
Where is your mother?'
82
Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
83
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
84
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
86
Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
88
Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
92
Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
93
There stays a husband to make you a wife:
94
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
95
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
96
Hie you to church; I must another way,
97
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
98
Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
99
I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
100
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
101
Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
103
Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
2
[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO]
4
So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
5
That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
7
Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
8
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
9
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
10
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
11
Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
12
It is enough I may but call her mine.
14
These violent delights have violent ends
15
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
16
Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
17
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
18
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
19
Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
20
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
22
Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
23
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
24
A lover may bestride the gossamer
25
That idles in the wanton summer air,
26
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
28
Good even to my ghostly confessor.
30
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
32
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
34
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
35
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
36
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
37
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
38
Unfold the imagined happiness that both
39
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
41
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
42
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
43
They are but beggars that can count their worth;
44
But my true love is grown to such excess
45
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
47
Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
48
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
49
Till holy church incorporate two in one.
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