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For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.

Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
What I have spoke; But farewell compliment !
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say
Ay;
And I will take thy word: yet, if thou swear'st,
Thou may'st prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo: but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;
And therefore thou may'st think my haviour
light:

But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be
strange..
[fess,
I should have been more strange, I must con-
But that thon over-heard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love's passion: therefore pardon me;
And not impate this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discovered.

Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops,Jul. O swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

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Jul. But to be frank, † and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. [NURSE calls within.

I hear some noise within; Dear love, adieu ! Anon, good nurse!-Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I will come again.

[Exit.

Rom. O blessed blessed night! I am afeard, Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too Battering-sweet to be substantial.

Re-enter JULIET, above.

Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.

If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay,
And follow thee, my lord, throughout the
world:

•J. e. More artfully assume coldness, f Free.

1 luclination.

Nurse. [Within.] Madam.

Jul. I come, anou :-But if thou mean'st not I do beseech thee,

[well,

Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul. By and by, I come :-

To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
To-morrow will I send.

Rom. So thrive my soul,

Jul. A thousand times good night! [Exit. Rom. A thousand times the worse to want thy light.

Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books;

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring slowly. Re-enter JULIET, above.

Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist !-O for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,"
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than
mine

With repetition of my Romeo's name.

Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name : How silver-sweet sound lovers' tougues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!

Jul. Romeo !

Rom. My sweet!

Jul. At what o'clock to-morrow

Shall I send to thee?

Rom. At the hour of nine.

Jul. I will not fail; 'tis twenty years till then.

I have forgot why I did call thee back.

Rom. Let me stand here till thou remember

it.

Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Rememb'ring how I love thy company. Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget Forgetting any other home but this.

Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone:

And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it black again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Rom. I would I were thy bird.

Jul. Sweet, so would I:

Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,

That I shall say-good night, till it be morrow. [Exit Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! Hence will 1 to my ghostly father's cell: His help to crave, aud ny dear hap to tell.

[Ex it. SCENE III.-Friar LAURENCE's Cell. Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a Basket. Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning night, [light; Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels:

Now ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry,
I must fill up this osier cage of ours,
With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb;
What is her burying grave, that is her womb:
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural bosom find;

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† Fetters. The sun.

Many for many virtues excellent,
None but for some, and yet all different.
O mickle is the powerful grace that lies
In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities;
For nought so vile that on the earth doth live,
But to the earth some special good doth give;
Nor aught so good, but strain'd from that fair
use,

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometime's by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath residence, and med'cine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers
each part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed foes encamp them still
In man as well as herbs-grace and rude will ;
And, where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

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What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?-
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head,
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed;
Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth
reign:

Therefore thy earliness doth me assure,
Thou art up-rous'd by some distemp'rature;
Or, if not so, then here I hit it right-
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to night.

Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine.

Fri. God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?

Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou been then?

Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy; Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, That's by me wounded; both our remedies Within thy help and holy physic lies: 1 bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo, My intercession likewise steads my foe.

Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love is set

On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on her's, so her's is set on mine;
And all combin'd save what thou must com-
bine

Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria! what a deal of brine

Rom. Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Rom. And bad'st me bury love.
Fri. Not in a grave,

• Virtue.

To lay one in, another out to have.

Rom. I pray thee, chide not: she, whom I love now,

Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; The other did not so.

Fri. O she knew well,

Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell.
But come, young waverer, come go with me,
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove,

To turn your households' rancour to pure love. Rom. O let us hence; I stand on sudden haste..

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Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared.

Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot thorough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: + And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?

Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline !
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thon and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? pronounce this sentence.
then-
[men.
Women may fall, when there's no strength in

Ben. Why, what is Tybalt?

Mer. More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O he is the courageous captain of compli ments. He fights as you sing prick-song, § keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentlman of the very first house, of the first and second cause: Ab, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay! Ben. The what?

By holy marriage: When, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us this day.
Fri. Holy Saint Francis ! what a change is bons! ¶
here!

Mer. The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting, fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents !-By Jesu, a very good blade!—a very tall man !— a very good whore !-Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashionmongers, these pardonnez-moys, who stand so much on the new form, that they can sit at ease on the old bench? O their bons, their

Enter ROMEO.

Ben. Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring: -O flesh, flesh, how art thou fisbified!-Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen-wench; -marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme ber: Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a grey eye or so, but not to the purpose.-Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your French slop. ** You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.

1.e. It is of the utmost consequence for me to be hasty. + Arrow. 1 See the story of Reynard the Fox. By notes pricked down. 1 Terms of the fene ing school. In ridicule of Freachified coxcombs. Trowsers or pautaloons, a French fashion in Shakspeare's time.

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Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs ; or
I'll ery a match.

Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chace, I have done; for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: Was I with you there for the goose?

Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing,
when thou wast not there for the goose.

Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not.
Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; || it
is a most sharp sauce.

Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet
goose?

Mer. O here's a wit of cheverel, ¶ that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! Rom. I stretch it out for that word-broad; which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.

Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature for this drivelling love is like a great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.

Ben. Stop there, stop there.
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale
against the hair.

Ben. Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. Mer. O thou art deceived, I would have made it short: for I was come to the whole depth of My tale; and meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.

Rom. Here's goodly geer!

Enter NURSE and PETER.

Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail!
Ben. Two, two; a shirt and a smock.

Nurse. Peter!

Peter. Anon?

Nurse. My fan, Peter. **

Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her
face; for her fan's the fairer of the two.
Nurse. God ye good-morrow, gentlemen.
Mer. God ye good den, tt fair gentlewoman.
Nurse. Is it good den?

Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy
hand of the dial is now upon the prick ++ of noon.
Nurse. Out upon you! what a man are you?
Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made

himself to mar.

Nurse. By my troth, it is well said;-For bimself to mar, quoth'a ?-Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young Romeo?

Rom. I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when you have found him, than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of that name, for 'fault of a worse.

Nurse. You say well.

Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i'faith; wisely, wisely.

Nurse. If you be he, Sir, I desire some confidence with you.

Ben. She will indite him to some supper.

Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Rom, What hast thou found?

Mer. No hare, Sir; unless a hare, Sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.

An old hare hoar,
And an old hare hoar,
Is very good meat in lent:
But a hare that is hoar,
Is too much for a score,
When it hours ere it be spent.-

Rom. I will follow you.

Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady,
lady, + lady.

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
Nurse. Marry farewell!-I pray you, Sir,
what saucy merchant was this, that was so full
of his ropery? §

Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear bimself talk and will speak more in a minute, than he will stand to in a month.

Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll take him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave I am none of his flirt-gills; I am none of his skainsmates:

And thou must stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?

Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure;
if I had, my weapon should quickly have been
out, I warrant you: I dare draw as soon as
another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel,
and the law on my side.

Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that
every part about me quivers. Scurvy knave !—
Pray you, Sir, a word; and, as I told you, my
young lady bade me inquire you out; what she
bade me say, I will keep to myself: but first
let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into a fool's
paradise, as they say, it were a very gross kind of
behaviour, as they say: for the gentlewoman, is
young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
with her, truly, it were an ill thing to be offered
to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
Rom. Nurse, commend me to thy lady and
mistress.
I protest unto thee,-
Nurse. Good heart! and i'faith, I will tell
her as much: Lord, lord, she will be a joyful

Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
to dinner thither.

woman.

Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou
dost not mark me.

Nurse. I will tell her, Sir,- that you do pro-
test; which, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
Rom. Bid her devise some means to come
This afternoon;
[to shrift ¶
And there she shall, at friar Laurence' cell,
Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse. No, truly, Sir; not a penny.
Rom. Go to; I say you shall.

Nurse. This afternoon, Sir? well, she shall
be there.

Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the ab-
bey-wall:
Within this hour my man shall be with thee;
And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.

A pun on counterfeit money called slips. + A horse race in any direction the leader chooses to take.

An apple.

Soft

to modern ideas.

This was formerly the practice, though ridiculous
11 Good even. 11 Point.highest extremity of a ship's mast.

Hoary, mouldy.

+ The burden of an old song.
A term in contradistinction to gentleman.
Roguery.
Not one of those that wore a skain
Confession.
or short sword

The

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To say to me that thou art out of breath ?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay,
Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance
Let me be satisfied, I'st good or bad?

Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo I

steel.

Two may keep counsel, putting one away? Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as no, not he; though his face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a Nurse. Well, Sir; my mistress is the sweet-hand, and a foot, and a body,-though they be vot est lady-Lord, lord !—when 'twas a little prat-to be talked on, yet they are past compare: He ing thing,-0,- there's a nobleman in town, is not the flower of courtesy,-but, I'll warone Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; rant him, as gentle as a lamb.-Go thy ways, but she, good soul, had as lieve see a toad, a wench; serve God.-What, have you dined at very toad, as see him. I anger her sometimes, home? and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the varsal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter ?

Farewell!-Be trusty, and I'll quit⚫ thy pains.
Farewell!-Commend me to thy mistress.
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee !-Hark
you, Sir.

Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er
hear say-

Rom. Ay, nurse; What of that? both with an R.

Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some other letter: and she hath the prettiest sententious of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good to hear it.

[Exit.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Ay, a thousand times.-Peter!
Pet. Anon.

Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before.
[Exeunt.

In half an hour she promis'd to return.
Perchance, she cannot meet him: that's not

$0.

O she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's
beams,
Driving back shadows over low'ring hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day's journey; and from nine till
twelve

Is three long hours,-yet she is not come.
Had she affections, and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball;

My words would baidy + her to my sweet love,
And his to me:

But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
Unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead.

SCENE V.-CAPULET'S Garden.

Enter JULIET.

Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send Your love says like an honest gentleman,—
Where is your mother?
Nurse. O God's lady dear !

the nurse;

Are you so hot! Marry, come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Jul. Here's such a coil, t-come, what says
Romeo?

Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift
to-day ?
Jul. I have.

Enter NURSE and PETER.

O God, she comes!-O honey nurse, what
news?

Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate.

Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ;-good, good nurse, speak.

Nurse. Jesu! What haste? can you not stay awhile?

Jul. No, no: But all this did I know before; What says he to our marriage? what of that? Nurse. Lord, how my head aches! what head have 1?

Do you not see, that I am out of breath?
Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou
hast breath

It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o't'other side,—O my back, my back!—
Beshrew your heart, for sending me about,
To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
Jul. I'faith, I am sorry that thou art not
well:

• Requite. ↑ Drive her, as a ball struck with a bandy or battledore.

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Jul. Where is my mother - why, she is within;

Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st!

[Exit PETER. Jul. Now, good sweet nurse,-O lord! why look'st thou sad?

Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily ;
If good, thon sham'st the music of sweet news,
By playing it to me with so sour a face.

Nurse. I am weary, give me leave a while;-It
Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt bave
I had!

cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.

Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and
thy news:

I

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die; like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey

Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' cell.

There stays a husband to make you a wife:
Now comes the wanton blood up in your

checks,

They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church: 1 must another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Jul. Hie to high fortune! honest nurse, fare-
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI-Friar LAURENCE'S Cell.

well.

Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO.
Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow

can,

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Ben. I pray you, good Mercntio, 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.

Mer. 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.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. 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. Ben. And what to?

Mer. Nay, and there were too such, we should have none shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why thou wilt quarrel with a man that bath 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 full of quarrels, as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head bath been beaten as addled as an egg, for quarrelling. Thon 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 bis new doublet before Easter? with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. An 1 were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.

Mer. The fee-simple ? O simple!

Enter TYBALT, and others. Ben. By my head here come the Capulets Mer. By my heel, I care not.

• Now everlasting flint could be worn out, is doubtful. * The long white filament which flies in the air. z faint, display. Imagination.

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draw.

Rom. I do protest I never injur'd 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 mine own,-be satisfied.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission !

[Draws.

A la stoccata ⚫ carries it away. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk ? Tyb. What wouldst thou have with me? Mer. 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, dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher + by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb. I am for you. [Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Tyb. Come, Sir, your passado. [They fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio ; [shame Beat down their weapons:-Gentlemen, for Forbear this outrage;-Tybalt-MercutioThe prince expressly bath forbid this bandying In Verona streets :-hold, Tybalt ;-good Mercutio.

[Exeunt TYBALT and his Partizans. Mer. I am burt:

A plague o'both the houses!-I am sped :-
Is he gone, and bath nothing?

Ben. What, art thou hurt?

Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. [geon. Where is my page ?-go, villain, fetch a sur[Exit Page. Rom Courage, man: the hurt cannot be

much. Mer. No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so The Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. Case or scabbard.

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