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In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-
But, soft; what day is this?


Cap. Monday? ha! ha!


Monday, my lord.
Well, Wednesday is too

O' Thursday let it be ;-O' Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.-
Will you be ready? Do you like this haste?
We'll keep no great ado;-a friend or two.—
For hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
It may be thought we held him carelessly,
Being our kinsman, if we revel much;
Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-


Cap. Well, get you gone :-O'Thursday be it, then.Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho! Afore me. It is so very late, that we


May call it early, by and by.-Good night.1 [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Juliet's Chamber.2

Enter ROMEO and JULIet.

Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day.
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;

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1 The latter part of this scene is a good deal varied from the first quarto.

2 The stage direction in the first edition is, “Enter Romeo and Juliet at a window; in the second quarto, "Enter Romeo and Juliet aloft." They appeared, probably, in the balcony which was erected on the old English stage.

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 daylight, 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.1
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 gray 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; 2
This doth not so, for she divideth us.

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1 The quarto, 1597, reads:

"Then stay awhile, thou shalt not go [so] soon." The succeeding speech, I think (says Mr. Boswell), is better in the same copy:

"Let me stay here, let me be ta'en, and die;
If thou wilt have it so, I am content.
I'll say yon gray is not the morning's eye,
It is the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
I'll say it is the nightingale that beats
The vaulty heaven so far above our heads,
And not the lark, the messenger of morn;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so
What says my love? let's talk, 'tis not yet day.”

2 A division, in music, is a variation in melody upon some given fundamental harmony.

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Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes;1
O, now I would they had changed voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunts-up2 to the day.
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?-more dark and dark

our woes.

Enter Nurse.

Nurse. Madam!

Jul. Nurse?

Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your chamber. The day is broke; be wary, look about.

[Exit Nurse. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. [ROMEO descends. Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord! lord! my


I must hear from thee every day i'the hour,
For in a minute there are many days.
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold my Romeo.

Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul. Ŏ, think'st thou we shall ever meet again? Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come.

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 eye so do you;
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu! adieu!

[Exit ROMEO. Jul. O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle :

1 The toad having very fine eyes, and the lark very ugly ones, was the occasion of a common saying, that the toad and the lark had changed eyes. 2 The hunt's up was originally a tune played to wake sportsmen, and call them together. It was a common burden of hunting-ballads.



If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renowned 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?
Jul. Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
Is she not down so late, or up so early?
What unaccustomed cause procures 1 her hither?



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 couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
Therefore, have done. Some grief shows much of love;
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
La. Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the

you weep for.


Feeling so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,

As that the villain lives which slaughtered him.
Jul. What villain, madam?
La. Cap.

That same villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
God pardon him! I do with all my heart;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.

La. Cap. That is, because the traitor-murderer lives. Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands. 'Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!

La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not;

Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,

1 Procures for brings.

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Where that same banished runagate doth live,-
That shall bestow on him so sure a draught,1
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company;
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vexed:-
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it,
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet.-O, how my heart abhors
To hear him named,—and cannot come to him,—
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughtered him!

La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a



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, child;

One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,

That thou expect'st not, nor I looked not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday


The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter too, He shall not make me there a joyful bride.

I wonder at this haste; that I must wed

Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.

1 Thus the first quarto. The subsequent quartos and the folio, less intelligibly, read:

“Shall give him such an unaccustomed dram.”

2 A la bonne heure. This phrase was interjected when the hearer was not so well pleased as the speaker.

3 County, or countie, was the usual term for an earl in Shakspeare's time. Paris is, in this play, first styled a young earle.

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