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Mer. Could you not take some occasion without cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a giving?

villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic !- Why, Tyb. Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo.-- the devil, came you between us? I was hurt under

Mer. Consort! what! dost thou make us minstrels ? your arm. an thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but Rom. I thought all for the best. discords : here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make Mer. Help me into some house, Benvolio, you dance. 'Zounds, consort ! [Striking his hilt.' Or I shall faint.--A plague o’ both your houses !

Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men : They have made worms' meat of me: Either withdraw unto some private place,

I have it, and soundly too :--your houses ! And reason coldly of your grievances,

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.?

Rom. This gentleman, the prince's near ally, Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt gaze:

In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Enter ROMEO.

Hath been my cousin. O sweet Juliet !
Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,

And in my temper soften’d valour's steel. Mer. But, I 'll be hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery:

Re-enter BENVOLIO. Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; Ben. O Romeo, Romeo! brave Mercutio 's dead; Your worship, in that sense, may call him-man. That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,

Tyb. Romeo, the hate I bear thee, can afford Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. No better term than this-thou art a villain.

Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee

depend; Doth much exceed the appertaining rage

This but begins the woe others must end. To such a greeting :-villain am I none;

Re-enter TYBALT. Therefore farewell : I see, thou know'st me not.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries

Rom. Alive! in triumph !8 and Mercutio slain ! That thou hast done me; therefore, turn and draw. Away to heaven, respective lenity, Rom. I do protest, I never injur'd thee;

And fire-ey'd' fury be my conduct now ! But love thee better than thou canst devise,

Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:

That late thou gav'st me; for Mercutio's soul And so, good Capulet,---which name I tender

Is but a little way above our heads,
As dearly as mine own,—be satisfied.

Staying for thine to keep him company :
Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission ! Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
A la stoccata carries it away.

Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him [Draws as TYBALT is going. here, Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ?

Shalt with him hence. Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me?

This shall determine that. Mer. Good king of cats, nothing, but one of your

[They fight; TYBALT falls. nine lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and, as Ben. Romeo, away! begone! you shall use me hereafter, dry-beat the rest of the The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain :eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher Stand not amaz'd:—the prince will doom thee death, by the ears ? make haste, lest mine be about your ears If thou art taken.--Hence !--be gone !-away! ere it be out.

Rom. O! I am fortune's fool. Tyb. I am for you.

[Drawing Ben.

Why dost thou stay? [Exit ROMEO, Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Enter Citizens, &c. Mer. Come, sir, your passado.

[They fight. 1 Cit. Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio ? Rom. Draw, Benvolio;

Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he ?
Beat down their weapons.--Gentlemen, for shame, Ben. There lies that Tybalt.
Forbear this outrage !—Tybalt-Mercutio-

1 Cit.

You, sir :- go with me; The prince expressly hath forbid this bandying I charge thee in the prince's name, obey. In Verona streets.--Hold, Tybalt!-good Mercutio ! Enter Prince, attended ; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their (Exeunt TYBALT and his Partisans.

Wives, and others. Mer. I ar hurt:

[ROMEO supports Merc. Prin. Where are the vile beginners of this fray? A plague o both the houses ! I am sped :

Ben. O noble prince! I can discover all Is he gone, and hath nothing ?

The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl : Ben.

What! art thou hurt? There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch ; marry, 't is That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. enough.

La. Cap. Tybalt, my cousin !-O my brother's child! Where is my page ?—go, villain, fetch a surgeon. O prince! O cousin! husband ! O, the blood is spill'd

[Exit Page. Of my dear kinsman Prince, as thou art true, Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. For blood of ours shed blood of Montague.

Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as O cousin, cousin ! a church? door; but 't is enough, 't will serve: ask for Prin. Who began this bloody fray ? me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did am peppered, I warrant, for this world :a plague o slay : both your houses !~ Zounds! a dog, a rat, a mouse, a Romeo, that spoke him fair, bade him bethink



I Not in f. e. 2 This and the next speech, are not in quarto, 1597. 3 the love I bear thee doth excuse the appertaining rage to such a

6 Not in f. e. word : in quarto, 1597. 4 scabbard : in quarto, 1597. 3 The passages from this to the exit of TYBALT, are not in quarto, 1597. 7 barn : in quarto. 8 So the quarto, 1597; other old copies : He gone in triumph. 9 and: in all old 2opies, but the quarto, 1597.


Romeo can,


How nicel the quarrel was; and urg'd withal

Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.-Your high displeasure: sure:—all this, uttered

Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-brow'd night, With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die, Could not take truce with the unruly spleen

Take him and cut him out in little stars, Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts

And he will make the face of heaven so fine, With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast; That all the world will be in love with night, Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,

And pay no worship to the garish sun.And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats O, I have bought the mansion of a love, Cold death aside, and with the other sends

But not possess'd it; and though I am sold, It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity

Not yet enjoy'd. So tedious is this day, Retorts it home.? Romeo he cries aloud,

As is the night before some festival “Hold, friends ! friends, part !" and, swifter than his To an impatient child that hath new robes, tongue,

And may not wear them. O! here comes my nurse. His agile arm beats down their fatal points,

Enter Nurse, with a Ladder of Cords. And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm, And she brings news; and ev'ry tongue, that speaks An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life

But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence. Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled ;

Now, nurse, what news ? What hast thou there? the But by and by comes back to Romeo,

cords Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,

That Romeo bade thee fetch ? And to't they go like lightning; for ere I


Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws them down. Could draw to part them was stout Tybalt slain, Jul. Ah me! what news ? why dost thou wring thy And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.

hands? This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's La. Cap. He is a kinsman to the Montague;

Affection makes him false, he speaks not true :3 We are undone, lady, we are undone !
Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, Alack the day !-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
And all those twenty could but kill one life.

Jul. Can heaven be so envious ?
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give :
Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.

Though heaven cannot.-0 Romeo, Romeo !
Prin.4 Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;

Who ever would have thought it ?--Romeo ! Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe ?

Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus ?
Mon. Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
His fault concludes but what the law should end, Hath Romeo slain himself ? say thou but 1,1
The life of Tybalt.

And that bare vowel, I, shall poison more
And for that offence,

Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice :
Immediately we do exile him hence :

I am not I, if there be such an I; I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,

Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer,

My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding; If he be slain, say—I; or if not—no:
But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine,

Brief sounds determine or my weal or woe.
That you shall all repent the loss of mine.

Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes, – I will be deaf to pleading and excuses,

God save the mark where on his manly breast : Nor tears, nor prayers, shall purchase out abuses ; A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse Therefore, use none : let Romeo hence in haste, Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.

All in gore blood ;-I swounded at the sight. Bear hence this body, and attend our will :

Jul. O break, my heart !-poor bankrupt, break at Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. [Esceunt.

To prison, eyes; ne'er look on liberty :
SCENE II.--A Room in CAPULET's House.

Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here,

And thou, and Romeo, press one heavy bier!
Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,

Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt! the best friend I had : Towards Phæbus' mansions; such a waggoner O courteous Tybalt, honest gentleman ! As Phaeton would whip you to the west,

That ever I should live to see thee dead ! And bring in cloudy night immediately. 6

Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary ? Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, Is Romeo slaughter'd ? and is Tybalt dead ? That enemies' eyes may wink, and Romeo

My dear-lov’dll cousin, and my dearer lord ?Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen !

Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom; Lovers can see to do their amorous rites

For who is living, if those two are gone ? By their own beauties; or if love be blind,

Nurse. Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished: It best agrees with night.--Come, civil night,

Romeo, that kill'd him, he is banished. Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,

Jul.' O God !-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's And learn me how to lose a winning match,

blood ? Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods :

Nurse. It did, it did ; alas the day! it did. Hood my unmann'd® blood, batingo in my cheeks, (Jul. O serpent heart,12 hid with a flowering face ! With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave ? Think true love acted simple modesty.

Beautiful tyrant; fiend angelical ! "Come night, come Romeo, come thou day in night; Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening larb ! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night

once !

Despised substance of divinest show ! 1 Trifling. 2 This word is not in f. e. 5 This line is not in quarto, 1597. 4 This and the next speech, are not in quarto, 1597. quarto, 1597 ; other old copies : dwelling. 6 The rest of the soliloquy, is not in quarto, 1597. 7 Most f. e. : runaways. Dyce reads : roving. 8 9 Terms of falconry-to man a hawk, is to accustom her to the person who trains her; bating is beating the air with the wings, in striving to get away.

10 The old spelling of ay. 11 So the quarto, 1597 ; other old copies : dearest. 12 serpent's hate : in quarto, 1597.

5 So the

Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st;

Jul. O, find him ! give this ring to my true knight, A damned' saint, an honourable villain !

And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt. O, nature ! what hadst thou to do in hell,

When thou didst pour” the spirit of a fiend

Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO.
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh ?-
Was ever book containing such vile matter,

Fri. Romeo, come forth ; come forth, thou fearful So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell AMiction is enamour'd of thy parts,

[man: In such a gorgeous palace ?

And thou art wedded to calamity.
There's no trust,

Rom. Father, what news ? what is the prince's doom? No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur’d,

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, All forsworn, all naught, all' dissemblers.

That I yet know not? Ah! where 's my man ? give me some aqua vitæ :


Too familiar These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Is


dear son with such sour company : Shame come to Romeo !

I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Blister'd be thy tongue,

Rom. What less than dooms-day is the prince's For such a wish! he was not born to shame:

doom? Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit ;

Fri. A gentler judgment parted from his lips,
For 't is a throne where honour may be crown'd Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

Rom. Ha! banishment ? be merciful, say--death; 0, what a beast was I to chide at him!

For exile hath more terror in his look, Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your Much more than death : do not say--banishment. cousin ?

Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished: Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband ? Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, Rom. There is no world without Verona walls, When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it ?- But purgatory, torture, hell itself. But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin ? Hence banished is banish'd from the world, That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband : And world's exile is death :-then, banished Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;

Is death mis-term’d: calling death banishment, Your tributary drops belong to woe,

Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe, Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.

And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; Fri. O deadly sin ! O rude unthankfulness ! And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband : Thy fault our law calls death ; but the kind prince, All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then ?

Taking thy part, hath brush'd aside the law, Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, And turn'd that black word death to banishment : That murder'd me. I would forget it fain;

This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. But, O! it presses to my memory,

Rom. ’T is torture, and not mercy : heaven is here, Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds :

Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog, Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished !

And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
That-banished, that one word-banished,

Live here in heaven, and may look on her;
Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death But Romeo may not.-More validity,
Was woe enough, if it had ended there :

More honourable state, more courtship lives
Or,—if sour woe delights in fellowship,

In carrion flies, than Romeo : they may seize And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,

On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand, Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's dead, And steal immortal blessing from her lips; Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,

Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, Which modern lamentation might have mov'd ? Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; But, with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, This may flies do, when I from this must fly, Romeo is banished !-to speak that word,

And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death ? Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,

But Romeo may not; he is banished. All slain, all dead :-Romeo is banished !

Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,

They are free men, but I am banished.5 In that word 's death; no words can that woe sound.- Hadst thou no poison mix’d, no sharp-ground knife, Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?

No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt’s corse : But---banished-to kill me; banished ? Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. O friar! the damned used that word in hell; - Jul. Wash they his wounds with tears? mine shall Howling attends it: how hast thou the heart,

Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, Take up those cords.-Poor ropes, you are beguil'd, To mangle me with that word banished ? Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd : [Taking them up. * Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. He made you for a highway to my bed,

Rom. O! thou wilt speak again of banishment. But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.

Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that word; Come, cords ; come, nurse : I'll to my wedding bed; Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead ! To comfort thee, though thou art banished. Nurse. Hie to your chamber; I'll find Romeo

Rom. Yet banished ?_Hang up philosophy : To comfort you :-I wot well where he is.

Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night :

Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

It helps not, it prevails not. Talk no more.

be spent,

1 So the undated quarto; others and folio: dim. and the previous line, are not in folio.

2 So the undated quarto ; other old copies: bower. 3 Common. 4 Not in f. o.

5 This

Fri. O! then I see that madmen have no ears. I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Rom. How should they, when that wise men have Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself,
no eyes ?

And slay thy lady, too, that lives in thee,
Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. By doing damned hate upon thyself ?-
Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. Why railst thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth ?
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,

Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,

In thee at once, which thou at once wouldst lose. Doting like me, and like me banished,

Fie, fie! thou sham’st thy shape, thy love, thy wit, Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy Which, like an usurer, abound'st in all, hair,

And usest none in that true use indeed And fall upon the ground, as I do now,

Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit. Taking the measure of an unmade grave. [Falling.? Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, Fri. Arise ; one knocks : good Romeo, hide thyself. Digressing from the valour of a mair;

[Knocking within. Thy dear love, sworn, but hollow perjury, Rom. Not I: unless the breath of heart-sick groans. Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. [Knocking. Thy wit

, that ornament to shape and love, Fri. Hark, how they knock !--who's there ? - Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both, Romeo, arise;

Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask, Thou wilt be taken. --Stay a while.-Stand up; Is, set afire by thine own ignorance,

(Knocking. And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. Run to my study.-By and by.--God's will!

What ! rouse thee, man: thy Juliet is alive, What wilfulness is this !—I come, I come. (Knocking. For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; Who knocks so hard ? whence come you ? what's your There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, will?

But thou slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too: Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in and you shall The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend, know my errand :

And turns it to exile ; there art thou happy:
I come from lady Juliet.

A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;
Welcome, then.

Happiness courts thee in her best array:
Enter Nurse.

But, like a mis-behav'd and sullen wench,
Nurse. O holy friar! (! tell me, holy friar, Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love.
Where is my lady's lord ? where 's Romeo ?

Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. Fri. There on the ground, with his own tears made Go, get thee to thy love, as was agreed, drunk.

Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her;
Nurse. O! he is even in my mistress case; But, look, thou stay not till the watch be set,
Just in her case.

For then thou canst not pass to Mantua ;
O woful sympathy!

Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
Piteous predicament !

To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Even so lies she,

Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.- With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:

Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.-
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand ; Go before, nurse : commend me to thy lady;
Why should you fall into so deep an O ? [ROMEO groans. And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
Rom. Nurse!

[Rising suddenly." Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir!_Death is the end of all. Romeo is coming.

Rom. Spak'st thou of Juliet? how is it with her ? Nurse. O Lord! I could have stay'd here all the night, Doth she not think me an old murderer,

To hear good counsel : 0, what learning is ! Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy

My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. With blood remov'd but little from her own?

Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. Where is she? and how doth she? and what says

Nurse. Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir. My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. (Exit Nurse. . Nurse. O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this ! And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,

Fri. Go hence. Good night; and here stands all And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,

Either be gone before the watch be set, [your state :And then down falls again.

Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence. Rom.

As if that name,

Sojourn in Mantua ; I'll find out your man, Shot from the deadly level of a gun,

And he shall signify from time to time Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand

Every good hap to you that chances here. Murder'd her kinsman.-0! tell me, friar, tell


Give me thy hand : 't is late ; farewell; good night. In what vile part of this anatomy

Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
Doth my name lodge ? tell me, that I may sack It were a grief so brief to part with thee :
The hateful mansion.
[Drawing his Sword. Farewell.

[Exeunt. Fri, Hold thy desperate hand!

SCENE IV.A Room in CAPULET'S House. Art thou a man? thy form cries out, thou art; Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote

Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and Paris. The unreasonable fury of a beast:

Cap. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily, Unseemly woman, in a seeming man;

That we have had no time to move our daughter, Or ill-beseeming beast, in seeming both !

Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, Thou hast amaz'd me : by my holy order,

And so did I:-well, we were born to die..

1 2 3 Not in f. e. 4 This and the sixteen following lines, are not in quarto, 1597. 6 This and the next four lines, are not in quarto, 1597.

5 This and the next line, are not in quarto, 1597

our woes.

’T is very late, she'll not come down to-night:

Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, I promise you, but for your company,

Hunting thee hence with hunts-up to the day, I would have been a-bed an hour ago.

O! now be gone: more light and light it grows. Par. These times of woe afford no time to woo. Rom. More light and light, more dark and dark Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. La. Cap. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;

Enter Nurse. To night she's mew'd up in her heaviness.

Nurse. Madam! Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender

Jul. Nurse. Of my child's love : I think, she will be rul'd

Nurse. Your lady mother 's coming to your chamber: In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not. The day is broke; be wary, look about. [Exit Nurse. Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed ;

Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love,

Rom. Farewell, farewell ! one kiss, and I'll descend. And bid her, mark, you me, on Wednesday next

[Descending: But, soft! what day is this?

Jul. Art thou gone so ? love, lord ! ay, husband, Par.

Monday, my lord. I must hear from thee every hour in the day, [friend ! Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday is too For in a minute there are many days : O’ Thursday let it be :-o? Thursday, tell her, [soon; o! by this count I shall be much in years, She shall be married to this noble earl.

Ere I again behold my Romeo. Will you be ready? do you like this haste ?

Rom. Farewell ! I will omit no opportunity We'll keep no great ado :-a friend, or two;- That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,

Jul. 0! think'st thou, we shall ever meet again? It may be thought we held him carelessly,

Rom. I doubt it not ;3 and all these woes shall serve Being our kinsman, if we revel much.

for sweet discourses in our time to come. Therefore, we'll have some half a dozen friends, Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul : And there an end. But what say you to Thursday ? Methinks, I see thee, now thou art so low,

Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were tomorrow. As one dead in the bottom of a tomb :

Cap. Well, get you gone : o' Thursday be it then.— Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. Go you to Juliet, ere you go to bed,

Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day

Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu ! adieu ! Farewell, my lord.—Light to my chamber, ho !

(Exit ROMEO. Afore me! it is so very late, that we

Jul. O fortune, fortune ! all men call thee fickle :* May call it early by and by-Good night. [Exeunt. If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him

That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
SCENE V.-JULIET's Chamber.

For, then, I hope thou wilt not keep him long,

But send him back.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone ? it is not yet near day: La. Cap. [Within.] Ho! daughter, are you up?
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,

Jul. Who is 't that calls ? is it my lady mother ? That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine car;

Is she not down so late, or up so early ? Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree.

What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Enter Lady CAPULET. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ? No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks


Madam, I am not well. Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.

La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day

What! wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears ? Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops :

An if thou wouldst, thou couldst not make him live; I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Therefore, have done. Some grief shows much of love; Jul. Yon light is not day-light; I know it, I: But much of grief shows still some want of wit. It is some meteor that the sun exhales,

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,

La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend And light thee on thy way to Mantua :

Which you weep for. Therefore, stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.


Feeling so the loss,
Rom. Let me be ta’en, let me be put to death; I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,

his death, 'T is but the pale reflex of Cynthia's bow;'

As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat

Jul. What villain, madam ? The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:

La. Cap.

That same villain, Romeo. I have more care to stay, than will to go :

Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder. Come, death, and welcome : Juliet wills it so.- God pardon him! I do, with all my heart; How is ’t, my soul ? let's talk, it is not day.

And yet no man, like him, doth grieve my heart. Jul. It is, it is; hie hence, be gone, away!

La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer lives. It is the lark that sings so out of tune,

Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! Some say, the lark makes sweet division;

La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: This doth not so, for she divideth us :

Then, weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes; Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,O! now I would they had chang'd voices too,

Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram?

1 brow: in f. e.

4 This and the next two 2 The name of a tune to summon hunters. 3 No doubt, no doubt : in quarto, 1597.

6 Not in speeches, are wanting in the quarto, 1597. 5 I think, thou 'lt: in quarto, 1597. The scene was much altered subsequently quartos. ? That should bestow on him so sure a draught: quarto, 1597.

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