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For that which thou hast heard me speak tonight.
Fain would I dwell on form; fain, fain deny
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
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,
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.
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,
•J. e. More artfully assume coldness, f Free.
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
Jul. I come, anou :-But if thou mean'st not I do beseech thee,
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
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!
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
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;
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,
† Fetters. The sun.
Many for many virtues excellent,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?-
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure,
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:
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.
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.
To turn your households' rancour to pure love. Rom. O let us hence; I stand on sudden haste..
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 !
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,
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
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.
Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs ; or
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,
Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet
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.
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!
Nurse. My fan, Peter. **
Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her
Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you; for the bawdy
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!
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,
Rom. I will follow you.
Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady,
[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO.
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;
Nurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that
Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
Rom. What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou
Nurse. I will tell her, Sir,- that you do pro-
Nurse. This afternoon, Sir? well, she shall
Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the ab-
A pun on counterfeit money called slips. + A horse race in any direction the leader chooses to take.
to modern ideas.
This was formerly the practice, though ridiculous
+ The burden of an old song.
To say to me that thou art out of breath ?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo I
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.
Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
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.
Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Peter, take my fan, and go before.
In half an hour she promis'd to return.
O she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Is three long hours,-yet she is not come.
My words would baidy + her to my sweet love,
But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
SCENE V.-CAPULET'S Garden.
Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send Your love says like an honest gentleman,—
Are you so hot! Marry, come up, I trow;
Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift
Enter NURSE and PETER.
O God, she comes!-O honey nurse, what
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
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?
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
• Requite. ↑ Drive her, as a ball struck with a bandy or battledore.
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 ;
Nurse. I am weary, give me leave a while;-It
cannot countervail the exchange of joy
Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and
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:
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO.
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.
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 !
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 :-
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.