« PreviousContinue »
Madam, good-night: commend me to your daughter. Rom. More light and light?-more dark and dark La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-mor row:
Enter Nurse. To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Jul. Nurse ?
Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber : Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed ;
The day is broke, be wary, look about. (Exit. Acquaint her here with my son Paris' love;
Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next
Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. But, soft; what day is this?
[Romeo descends. Par. Monday, my lord.
Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! my
friend! Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too
I must hear from thee every day if the hour, soon, O' Thursday let it be ;-0 Thursday, tell her,
For in a minute there are many days: She shall be married to this noble earl :
0! by this count I shall be much in years, Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
Ere I again behold my Romeo. We'll keep no great ado ;-a friend, or two:
Rom, Farewell! I will omit no opportunity For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
Jul. O, think'st thou, we shall ever meet again? It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinsman, if we revel much:
Rom. I doubt it not: and all these woes sliall serve 'Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
For sweet discourses in our time to come. And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul:
Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below,
Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Prepare her, wife, against this weddiog day
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu! [Exil. Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho!
Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: Afore me, it is so very late, that we
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
But send him back.
Jul. Who is't that calls? Is it my lady mother?
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What upaccustom'd cause procures her hither:
Enter Lady Capulet.
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet? Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Madam, I am not well.. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, La.Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? No nightingale : look, love, what envious streaks What, wilt thou wash him from bis grave with tears Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east ;
An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live ; Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Therefore, have done: Some grief shows niuch of love, Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops :
But much of grief shows still some want of wit. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I :
La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
Which you weep for. To be to thee this night a toreh-bearer,
Feeling so the loss, And light thee on thy way to Mantua :
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for Rom. Let me be ta’en, let me be put to death ;
his death, I am content, so thou wilt lave it so.
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
Jul. What villain, madam? "Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
That same villain, Romeo.. Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asumderThe vaulty heaven so high above our heads.
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart: I have more care to stay, than will to go ;
And yet, no man, like he, doth grieve my heart. Come, death, and welcome ! Juliet wills it 50. La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer lives. How is t, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands : Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away;
'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death! It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps.
not: Some say, the lark makes sweet division;
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,This doth not so, for she divideth us.
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes ;
Tha: shall bestow on him so sure a draught, O, now I would they had chang‘d voices too!
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company : Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, And then, I hope, thou will be satisfied. Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day.
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied O, now be gone; mere light and light it grows. With Romeo, till I bebold him-dead
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd :
Fge, fye! what, are you mad? Madam, if you could find out but a man
Jul. Good father, I beseech you op my knees, To bear a poison, I would temper it;
Hear me with patience but to speak a word. That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! Soon sleep in quiet.-0, how my heart abhors I tell thee what,-get thee to church o'Thursday, To hear him nam'd, -and cannot come to him, Or never after look me in the face: To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us blessid La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a That God had sent us but this only child ;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her:
God in heaven bless her! La. Cup. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. child ;
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
Nurse. I speak no treason. That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
0, God se good den! Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that? Nurse. May not one speak? La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday Сар.
Peace, you mumbling fool! morn,
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
For here we need it not. The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church,
You are too hot. Shall happily make thee here a joyful bride.
Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too,
late, early, He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
A gentleman of princely parentage,
Stuffd (as they say) with honourable parts,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer-I'll not wed, I cannot love,
I am too young-1 pray you, pardon me ;-
But, an you will not wed, I'll pardon you: But for the sunset of my brother's son,
Graze where you will, you sball not house with me; It rains downright.
Look to't, think on't, 1 do not use to jest. How now ? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears ? Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise : Evermore showering? In one little body
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind :
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'the streets, For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: Sailing in this salt tlood; the winds, thy sighs ; Trust to't, bethink you, I'll not be forsworn. [En. Who,-raging with thy tears, and they with them, Jul. Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, Without a sudden calm, will overset
That sees into the bottom of my grief? Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
Delay this marriage for a month, a week; La. Cap. Ay, sir ; but she will none, she gives you Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed thanks.
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. I wonid, the fool were married to ber grave!
La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;
How shall that faith return again to earth,
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagemas
Upon so soft a subject as myself !-
Ca). How now! how now, chop-logic! What is this? Some comfort, nurse.
Faith, here 'tis : Romeo
Is banished ; and all the world to nothing,
Then, since the crise so stands as now it dotk,
I think it best you married with the counts. Dut, you green-sickness carrion! Out, you baggage ! O, he's a lovely gentleman! you tallow.face!
Romeo's a dishcloul to him; an eagle, madam,
Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye,
And what I spake, I spake it to my face. As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. I think you are happy in this second match,
Jul. It may be so, for it is not mine own.For it excels your first : or if it did not,
Are you at leisure, holy father, now; Your first is dead; or 'twere as good be were, Or shall I come to you at evening mass ? As living here and you no use of him.
Fri, My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now: Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
-My lord, we must entreat the time alone. Nurse.
From my soul too; Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion !-
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you:
Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss. [Exit. Nurse.
Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done se, Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,
Fri. Ab, Jaliet, I already know thy grief ; Having displeas'd my father, to Laurence' cell,
It strains me past the compass of my wits : To make confession, and to be absolvid.
I hear thou must, and nothing must prorogne it, Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. On Thursday next be married to this county.
(Exit. Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, Jul. Ancient damnation ! O most wicked fiend ! Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: Is it more sin-to wish me thus forsworn,
If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue Do thou but call my resolution wise, Which she hath prais'd him with above compare And with this knife 1'll help it presently. So many thousand times ?-Go, counsellor;
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thon our hands ;
Shall be the label to another deed,
Turn to another, this shall slay them both.
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
'Twist my extremes and me this bloody knife
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. Par. My father Capulet will have it so;
Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope, And I am nothing slow, to slack his baste.
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry county Paris, And therefore have I little talks of love;
Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself ; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Thep is it likely, thou wilt undertake Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous,
A thing like death to chide away this shame, That she doth give her sorrow so much sway;
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it; And, in his wisdom, hastes our marriage,
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy. To stop the inundation of her tears;
Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, Which, too much minded by herself alone,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are: chain me with roaring bears; Fri. I would I knew not why it should be slowd.
Or shut me nightly in a charnel house,
O‘er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, [ Aside.
With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless skulls; -Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Or bid me go into a new-made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Fri. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consens Fri.
That's a certain text. To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow; Par. Come you to make confession to this father? To-morrow night look that thou lie alone, Jul. To answer that, were to contess to you. Let not thy nurse jie with thee in thy chamber: Par, Do not deny to him, that you love me. Take thou this phial, being then in bel, Jul. I will confess to you, that I love him.
And this discilled liquor drink thou off: Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love me. When, presently, through all thy veins shall run Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price,
A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep
Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abusd with tears. His natural progress, but surcease to beat :
Jul. The tears have got small victory by that ; No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livst; For it was bad enough, before their spite.
The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade Par. Thou wrongost it, more than tears, with that To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall, report.
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life : Jul. That is no slander, sir, that is a truth; Each part depriv'd of snpple government,
Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death : La. Cap. We shall be short in our provision ;
Tush! I will stir about,
And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
I'll play the housewife for this once.- What, ho !-
They are all forth :-Well, I will walk myself
Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift;
[Exeunt And hither shall he come; and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night
SCENE III.-Juliet's Chamber. Enter Juliet ang
I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night;
For I have need of many orisons
Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous Which, well thou know'st, is cross and full of sin,
Enter Lady Capulet.
La.Cap. What are you busy? do you need my help!
Jul. No, madam; we have culid such necessaries
As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: Farewell, dear father!
So please you, let me now be left alone, SCENE II.-A Room in Capulet's House. Enter
And let the nurse this night sit up with you; Capulet, Laily Capulet, Nurse, and Servants.
For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
In this so sudden business. Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.
Good night! [E.xit Servant.
Get thee to-beul, and rest : for thou hast need. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. 2 Serv. You shall have none ill, sir ; for I'll try if
[E reunt Lady Cap. and Nurs. they can lick their fingers.
Jul. Farewell !-God knows, when we shall mett
again. Cap. How canst thou try them so ?
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, 2 Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cool that cannot lick
That almost freezes up the beat of life: his own fingers; therefore be, that cannot lick bis
I'll call them back again to confort ine;fingers, goes not with me.
Nurse!-What should she do here?Cap. Go, begone.
[Erit Servant. We shall be much unfurnishid for this time
My dismal scene I needs must act along
Come, phialWhat, is my daughter gone to friar Laurence ?
What if this inixture do not work at all ?
Must I of force be married to the county ?-
No, no ;-this shall forbid it :-Lie thou there.
[Laying doron a dagger Enter Juliet.
What if it be a poison, which the friar Nurse. See where she comes from shrift with merry Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead ; look.
Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, Cap. How now, my head-strong? where have you Because he married me before 19 Romeo ? been gadding?
I fear it is: and yet methinks, it should not, Juil. Where I have learn'd ine to repent the sin For he hath still been tried a holy man: of disobedient opposition
I will not entertain so bad a thought.To yoll, and your behests; and am enjoin'd
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the time that Romco
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; Or, if I live, is it not very like,
The horrible conceit of death and night,
Together with the terror of the place,-
Of all my buried ancestors are pack'd ;
Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
Lies fest'ring in his shroud; where, as they say,
Alack, alack ! is it not like that I,
So early waking - what with loathsome smells;
That living mortals, hearing them, rur mad;-
Environed with all these hideous fears?
I must needs wake you: Lady! lady! lady!
Enter Lady Capulete
La. Cap. What noise is here?
O lamentable day!
La. Cap. What is the matter?
Nurse. [She throws herself on the bed.
Look, look ! O heavy day!
La. Cap. O me, O me !-my child, my only life, SCENE IV.-Capulet's Hall. Enter Lady Capulet Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! und Nurse.
Help, help !--call help. La. Cap. Hold, take these keys, and fetch more
Enter Capulet. spices, nurse. Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Cap. For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. Enter Capulet.
Nurse. She's dead, deceased, slie's dead; alack the
day! Cap. Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath
La. Cap. Alack the day! she's dend, she's dead, crowd.
she's dead. The curfèu bell bath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
Cap. Ha! let me see her:-Out, alas! she's cold; Look to the bak'd meats, good Angelica :
Her blood is settled, and her joints are stift;
Life and these lips have long been separated :
Death lies on her, like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. For this night's watching.
Accursed time! unfortunate old man! Cap. No, not a whit; What! I have watch id ere
Nurse. O lamentable day!
O woeful time! All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick..
Cap. Death, that hath ta’en her bence to make me La. Cap. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your
Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. But I will watch you from such watching now. [Escunt Lady Capulet and Nurse.
Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians. Cap. A jealous-hood, a jealuus-lood !-Now, fellow, Fri. Come, is the bride rendy to go to thurch? What's there?
Cap. Ready to go, but never to return : Enter Servants, with spits, logs, and baskets. O son, the night before thy wedding day 1 Serv. Things for the cook, sir; but I know not Hath death lain with thy bride:--Set, there she lies, what.
Flower as she was, deflowered by him. Cap. Make haste, make haste. (Exit 1 Sero.) Sir Death is my son in law, death is my heir; rah, fetch drier logs;
My daughter he hath wedded! I will die, Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
And leave him all; life leaving, all is death's. 2 Serv. I have a hend, sir, that will find out logs, Par. Have I thought long to see this morning's face, And never trouble Peter for the matter. [Exit. And doth it give me such a sight as this?
Cap. 'Mass, and well said ; a merry wboreson ! ha, La.Cap. Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! Thou shalt be logger-head.-Good faith, 'tis day: Most miserable hour, that e'er time saw The county will be here with music stonight, In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
(Music within. But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, For so he said he would. I hear him near :
But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight.
Nurse. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day! Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up;
Most lamentable day! most woeful day, I'll go and chat with Paris :-Hie, make haste,
That ever, ever. I did yet behold! Make haste! the bridegroom he is come already:
O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! Make haste, I say!
Never was seen so black a day as this:
O woeful day! O woeful day! SCENE V.-Juliet's Chamber ; Juliet on the Bed. Par. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! Enter Nurse.
Most detestable death, by thee beguild, Nurse. Mistress !-what, mistress !~Juliet !-fast, I By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown ! warrant her, she:
O love! O life!--not life, but lore in death! Why, lamb!-why, lady !-fye, you slug-a-bed !
Cap. Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! Why, love, I say !-madam ! sweetheart !-why, | Uncomfortable time! why cam'st thou now bride !
To murder murder our solemnity ?What, not a word ?-you take your pennyworths now; O child ! O child !-my soul, and not my child! Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, Dead art thou, dead !--alack! my child is dead; The connty Paris hath set up his rest,
And, with my child, my joys are buried ! That you shall rest but little.-God forgive me, Fri. Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives pot (Marty, and amen !) how sound is she asleep!
In these confusions. Heaven and yourself I needs must wake her:-Madam, madam, madam! Had part in this fair maid ; now beaven háth all, Ay, let the county take you in your bed ;
And all the beiter is it for the maid: He'll fright you up, i'faith -Will it not be?
Your part in her you could not keep from death; What, drest! and in yoar clothes ! and down again! But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.