But I'll amerce' you with so strong a fine, Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses, SCENE II. A Room in Capulet's House. Enter JULIET. [Exeunt. Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, And learn me how to lose a winning match, unmann'd blood bating in my cheeks,4 With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Think true love acted, simple modesty. Punish by fine. 2 Grave, solemn. 4 These are terms of falconry. Come, night!-Come, Romeo! come, thou day in night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night To an impatient child, that hath new robes, And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, Enter Nurse, with Cords. And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there, the cords, That Romeo bade thee fetch? Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords. 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 !— Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! 5 Gaudy, showy. Romeo can, Jul. Can heaven be so envious? Nurse. Though heaven cannot :-O Romeo! 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, Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer, I. Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,— Pale, pale as ashes, all bedawb'd in blood, To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty! Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter'd; and is Tybalt dead? 6 In Shakspeare's time the affirmative particle ay was usually written I, and here it is necessary to retain the old spelling. My dear-lov'd cousin, and my dearer lord?— Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo 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:- Shame come to Romeo! these sorrows make me old. Blister'd be thy tongue, Jul. 7 To smooth, in ancient language, is to strake, to caress. Sole monarch of the universal earth. O, what a beast was I to chide at him! Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?- Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; 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 : Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship, And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,- i.e. Is worse than the loss of ten thousand Tybalts. 9 Common. |