too soon, O' Thursday let it be ;-O' Thursday, tell her, Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east ; Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops; I must be gone and live, or stay and die. Jul. Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: It is some meteor that the sun exhales, To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;" Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: I have more care to stay, than will to go;Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.How is't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day. Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away; It is the lark that sings so out of tune, Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing sharps. Some say, the lark makes sweet division?' This doth not so, for she divideth us: Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes; O, now, I would they had chang'd voices too! Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with hunts-up" to the day. O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. (3) Reflection of the moon. (4) Inclination. chamber: day is broke; be wary, look about. [Erit Nurse. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll de[Romeo descends. scend. Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! my friend! I must hear from thee every day i'the hour, Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul: Methinks, I see thee now thou art below, As one dead in the bottom of a tomb; Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. Rom. And trust me, love, in my eyes so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu! [Exit Romeo. Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, But send him back. La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up? La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ? Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? An if thou could'st, thou could'st not make him live; Therefore, have done: Some grief shows much of love; But much of grief shows still some want of wit. (6) A tune played to wake hunters, also a morn (5) Division was the technical phrase for musi- ing song to a woman the day after marriage. cal composition. (7) Brings. Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,- Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied To hear him nam'd, and cannot come to him,- Cap. How now! how now, chop-logic! What Proud,-and, I thank you,-and, I thank you not ;- La. Cap. Fie, fie! what, are you mad? Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees, Hear me with patience but to speak a word. Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobedien I tell thee what,-get thee to church o'Thursday, La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such Speak not, reply not, do not answer me: a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship? La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father, One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness, Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that? The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us That God had sent us but this only child; Nurse. God in heaven bless her! You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. Сар. O, God ye good den! Peace, you mumbling fool! Nurse. May not one speak? Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl, La. Cap. You are too hot. Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, late, early, At home, abroad, alone, in company, Waking, or sleeping, still my care liath been La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him so A gentleman of princely parentage, yourself, And see how he will take it at your hands. Enter Capulet and Nurse. Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, It rains downright. How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, To answer-I'll not wed,-I cannot love, Who,-raging with thy tears, and they with them,For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, Without a sudden calm, will overset Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife? La. Cap. Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives I would, the fool were married to her grave! How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks ? Proud can I never be of what I hate; But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. (1) Base woman. Upon so soft a subject as myself!— Nurse. 'Faith, here 'tis : Romeo Is banished; and all the world to nothing, Romeo's a dishclout to him; an eagle, madam, Or else beshrew them both. Jul. Nurse. Par. Come you to make confession to this father? Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you. Par. Do not deny to him, that you love me. Jul. I will confess to you, that I love him. Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love me. Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd with tears. Jul. The tears have got small victory by that; For it was bad enough, before their spite. Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. Jul. That is no slander, sir, that is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face. Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. Amen! To what? Jul. Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. Go in; and tell my lady I am gone, Nurse. Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. [Exit. Jul. Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! Is it more sin-to wish me thus forsworn, Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue Which she hath prais'd him with above compare So many thousand times ?-Go, counsellor ; Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.I'll to the friar, to know his remedy; If all else fail, myself have power to die. ACT IV. [Exit. now: My lord, we must entreat the time alone. Par. God shield, I should disturb devotion!Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you: Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss. [Exit Paris. Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so, Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure, past help! Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; Jul. Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands, Or my true heart with treacherous revolt SCENE I-Friar Laurence's cell. Enter Friar Turn to another, this shall slay them both: Laurence and Paris. Fri. On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. Par. My father Capulet will have it so; And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste. Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind; Uneven is the course, I like it not. Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, Now do you know the reason of this haste. Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife! next. Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of hope, A thing like death to chide away this shame, That cop'st with death himself to scape from it; And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee remedy. Jul. O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, From off the battlements of yonder tower; Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, With reeky shanks, and yellow chapless sculls; Or bid me go into a new-made grave, And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; And I will do it without fear or doubt, (2) Authority or power. To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. Fri. Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow; To-morrow-night look that thou lie alone, Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: Take thou this phial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off: When, presently, through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour, which shall seize Each vital spirit; for no pulse shall keep His natural progress, but surcease to beat: No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou liv'st; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, depriv'd of supple government, Shall stiff, and stark, and cold, appear like death: And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt remain full two and forty hours, And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. Now when the bridegroom in the morning comes To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: Then (as the manner of our country is,) In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier, Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault, Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift; And hither shall he come; and he and I Will watch thy waking, and that very night, Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua, And this shall free thee from this present shame; If no unconstant toy, nor womanish fear, Abate thy valour in the acting it. Jul. Give me, O give me! tell me not of fear. Fri. Hold; get you gone, be strong and pros SCENE II-A room in Capulet's house. Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servants. Cap. So many guests invite as here are writ.[Exit Servant. Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. 2 Serv. You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they can lick their fingers. Cap. How canst thou try them so? 2 Serv. Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers: therefore he, that cannot lick his fingers, goes not with me. Cap. Go, begone. [Exit Servant. We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.- Cap. Well, he may chance to do some good on her: A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. Nurse. See, where she comes from shrift' with merry look. Cap. How now, my headstrong? where have you been gadding? Jul. Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition To you, and your behests; and am enjoin'd (1) Confession. Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. Cap. Send for the county; go tell him of this; I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. Jul. I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; And gave him what becomed3 love I might, Not stepping o'er the bonds of modesty. Cap. Why, I am glad on't; this is well,-stand up : This is as't should be.-Let me see the county; Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. Now, afore God, this reverend holy friar, All our whole city is much bound to him. Jul. Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, To help me sort such needful ornaments As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? La. Cap. No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. Cap. Go, nurse, go with her :-we'll to church I'll not to bed to-night;-let me alone; Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, and Nurse. Jul. Ay, those attires are best :-But, gentle nurse, pray thee, leave me to myself to-night; For I have need of many orisons4 To move the heavens to smile upon my state, 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 cull'd such necessaries As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: So please you, let me now be left alone, And let the nurse this night sit up with you; For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, In this so sudden business. Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. La. Cap. Good night! [Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse. Jul. Farewell!-God knows, when we shall I meet again. have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, My dismal scene I needs must act alone.- Because he married me before to Romeo? Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, The horrible conceit of death and night, So early waking-what with loathsome smells; (For so he said he would. I hear him near:- Go, waken Juliet, go, and trim her up; SCENE V.-Juliet's chamber; Juliet on the Nurse. Mistress!-what, mistress!-Juliet !fast, I warrant her, she : Why, lamb!-why, lady!-fie, you slug-a-bed!Why, love, I say!-madam! sweet-heart!—why, bride! What, not a word?-you take your pennyworths Sleep for a week: for the next night, I warrant, That you shall rest but little.-God forgive me, SCENE IV.-Capulet's hall. Enter Lady Cap-0, well-a-day, that ever I was born!- ulet and Nurse. La. Cap. Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. Nurse. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry,' come. Nurse. She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack the day! La. Cap. Alack the day! she's dead, she's dead, Cap. Ha! let me see her :-Out, alas, she's cold; O woful time! Enter Friar Laurence and Paris, with Musicians. Fri. Come, is the bride ready to go to church? O son, the night before thy wedding-day |