5:3

SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.
Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch
PARIS
Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,As signal that thou hear'st something approach.Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
PAGE
[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand aloneHere in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
Retires
PARIS
Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,--O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;--Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:The obsequies that I for thee will keepNightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
The Page whistles
The boy gives warning something doth approach.What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.
Retires
Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c
ROMEO
Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.Hold, take this letter; early in the morningSee thou deliver it to my lord and father.Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee,Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,And do not interrupt me in my course.Why I descend into this bed of death,Is partly to behold my lady's face;But chiefly to take thence from her dead fingerA precious ring, a ring that I must useIn dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:But if thou, jealous, dost return to pryIn what I further shall intend to do,By heaven, I will tear thee joint by jointAnd strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:The time and my intents are savage-wild,More fierce and more inexorable farThan empty tigers or the roaring sea.
BALTHASAR
I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
ROMEO
So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.
BALTHASAR
[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
Retires
ROMEO
Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Opens the tomb
PARIS
This is that banish'd haughty Montague,That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,It is supposed, the fair creature died;And here is come to do some villanous shameTo the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
Comes forward
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!Can vengeance be pursued further than death?Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
ROMEO
I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,Put not another sin upon my head,By urging me to fury: O, be gone!By heaven, I love thee better than myself;For I come hither arm'd against myself:Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
PARIS
I do defy thy conjurations,And apprehend thee for a felon here.
ROMEO
Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!
They fight
PAGE
O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
Exit
PARIS
O, I am slain!
Falls
If thou be merciful,Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
Dies
ROMEO
In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!What said my man, when my betossed soulDid not attend him as we rode? I thinkHe told me Paris should have married Juliet:Said he not so? or did I dream it so?Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makesThis vault a feasting presence full of light.Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
Laying PARIS in the tomb
How oft when men are at the point of deathHave they been merry! which their keepers callA lightning before death: O, how may ICall this a lightning? O my love! my wife!Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yetIs crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,And death's pale flag is not advanced there.Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?O, what more favour can I do to thee,Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twainTo sunder his that was thine enemy?Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believeThat unsubstantial death is amorous,And that the lean abhorred monster keepsThee here in dark to be his paramour?For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;And never from this palace of dim nightDepart again: here, here will I remainWith worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, hereWill I set up my everlasting rest,And shake the yoke of inauspicious starsFrom this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O youThe doors of breath, seal with a righteous kissA dateless bargain to engrossing death!Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!Thou desperate pilot, now at once run onThe dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!Here's to my love!
Drinks
O true apothecary!Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
Dies
Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade
FRIAR LAURENCE
Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-nightHave my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
BALTHASAR
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,What torch is yond, that vainly lends his lightTo grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,It burneth in the Capel's monument.
BALTHASAR
It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,One that you love.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who is it?
BALTHASAR
Romeo.
FRIAR LAURENCE
How long hath he been there?
BALTHASAR
Full half an hour.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Go with me to the vault.
BALTHASAR
I dare not, sirMy master knows not but I am gone hence;And fearfully did menace me with death,If I did stay to look on his intents.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
BALTHASAR
As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,I dreamt my master and another fought,And that my master slew him.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo!
Advances
Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stainsThe stony entrance of this sepulchre?What mean these masterless and gory swordsTo lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
Enters the tomb
Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hourIs guilty of this lamentable chance!The lady stirs.
JULIET wakes
JULIET
O comfortable friar! where is my lord?I do remember well where I should be,And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
Noise within
FRIAR LAURENCE
I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nestOf death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:A greater power than we can contradictHath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of theeAmong a sisterhood of holy nuns:Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;Come, go, good Juliet,
Noise again
I dare no longer stay.
JULIET
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
Exit FRIAR LAURENCE
What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand?Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly dropTo help me after? I will kiss thy lips;Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,To make die with a restorative.
Kisses him
Thy lips are warm.
First Watchman
[Within] Lead, boy: which way?
JULIET
Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
Snatching ROMEO's dagger
This is thy sheath;
Stabs herself
there rust, and let me die.
Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies
Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS
PAGE
This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
First Watchman
The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,Who here hath lain these two days buried.Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:Raise up the Montagues: some others search:We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;But the true ground of all these piteous woesWe cannot without circumstance descry.
Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR
Second Watchman
Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
First Watchman
Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE
Third Watchman
Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:We took this mattock and this spade from him,As he was coming from this churchyard side.
First Watchman
A great suspicion: stay the friar too.
Enter the PRINCE and Attendants
PRINCE
What misadventure is so early up,That calls our person from our morning's rest?
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others
CAPULET
What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
LADY CAPULET
The people in the street cry Romeo,Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,With open outcry toward our monument.
PRINCE
What fear is this which startles in our ears?
First Watchman
Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,Warm and new kill'd.
PRINCE
Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
First Watchman
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;With instruments upon them, fit to openThese dead men's tombs.
CAPULET
O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his houseIs empty on the back of Montague,--And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
LADY CAPULET
O me! this sight of death is as a bell,That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
Enter MONTAGUE and others
PRINCE
Come, Montague; for thou art early up,To see thy son and heir more early down.
MONTAGUE
Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:What further woe conspires against mine age?
PRINCE
Look, and thou shalt see.
MONTAGUE
O thou untaught! what manners is in this?To press before thy father to a grave?
PRINCE
Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,Till we can clear these ambiguities,And know their spring, their head, theirtrue descent;And then will I be general of your woes,And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,And let mischance be slave to patience.Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I am the greatest, able to do least,Yet most suspected, as the time and placeDoth make against me of this direful murder;And here I stand, both to impeach and purgeMyself condemned and myself excused.
PRINCE
Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I will be brief, for my short date of breathIs not so long as is a tedious tale.Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:I married them; and their stol'n marriage-dayWas Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely deathBanish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city,For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.You, to remove that siege of grief from her,Betroth'd and would have married her perforceTo County Paris: then comes she to me,And, with wild looks, bid me devise some meanTo rid her from this second marriage,Or in my cell there would she kill herself.Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,A sleeping potion; which so took effectAs I intended, for it wrought on herThe form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,That he should hither come as this dire night,To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,Being the time the potion's force should cease.But he which bore my letter, Friar John,Was stay'd by accident, and yesternightReturn'd my letter back. Then all aloneAt the prefixed hour of her waking,Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:But when I came, some minute ere the timeOf her awaking, here untimely layThe noble Paris and true Romeo dead.She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,And bear this work of heaven with patience:But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;And she, too desperate, would not go with me,But, as it seems, did violence on herself.All this I know; and to the marriageHer nurse is privy: and, if aught in thisMiscarried by my fault, let my old lifeBe sacrificed, some hour before his time,Unto the rigour of severest law.
PRINCE
We still have known thee for a holy man.Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
BALTHASAR
I brought my master news of Juliet's death;And then in post he came from MantuaTo this same place, to this same monument.This letter he early bid me give his father,And threatened me with death, going in the vault,I departed not and left him there.
PRINCE
Give me the letter; I will look on it.Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
PAGE
He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;And by and by my master drew on him;And then I ran away to call the watch.
PRINCE
This letter doth make good the friar's words,Their course of love, the tidings of her death:And here he writes that he did buy a poisonOf a poor 'pothecary, and therewithalCame to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.And I for winking at your discords tooHave lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.
CAPULET
O brother Montague, give me thy hand:This is my daughter's jointure, for no moreCan I demand.
MONTAGUE
But I can give thee more:For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.
CAPULET
As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
PRINCE
A glooming peace this morning with it brings;The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:For never was a story of more woeThan this of Juliet and her Romeo.
Exeunt

5:2

SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell.
Enter FRIAR JOHN
FRIAR JOHN
Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE
FRIAR LAURENCE
This same should be the voice of Friar John.Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
FRIAR JOHN
Going to find a bare-foot brother outOne of our order, to associate me,Here in this city visiting the sick,And finding him, the searchers of the town,Suspecting that we both were in a houseWhere the infectious pestilence did reign,Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
FRIAR JOHN
I could not send it,--here it is again,--Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,So fearful were they of infection.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,The letter was not nice but full of chargeOf dear import, and the neglecting itMay do much danger. Friar John, go hence;Get me an iron crow, and bring it straightUnto my cell.
FRIAR JOHN
Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
Exit
FRIAR LAURENCE
Now must I to the monument alone;Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:She will beshrew me much that RomeoHath had no notice of these accidents;But I will write again to Mantua,And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb!
Exit

5:1

ACT V
SCENE I. Mantua. A street.
Enter ROMEO
ROMEO
If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;And all this day an unaccustom'd spiritLifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--Strange dream, that gives a dead man leaveto think!--And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,That I revived, and was an emperor.Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
Enter BALTHASAR, booted
News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar!Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?How doth my lady? Is my father well?How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;For nothing can be ill, if she be well.
BALTHASAR
Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,And her immortal part with angels lives.I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,And presently took post to tell it you:O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
ROMEO
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
BALTHASAR
I do beseech you, sir, have patience:Your looks are pale and wild, and do importSome misadventure.
ROMEO
Tush, thou art deceived:Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
BALTHASAR
No, my good lord.
ROMEO
No matter: get thee gone,And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
Exit BALTHASAR
Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swiftTo enter in the thoughts of desperate men!I do remember an apothecary,--And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I notedIn tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,An alligator stuff'd, and other skinsOf ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelvesA beggarly account of empty boxes,Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.Noting this penury, to myself I said'An if a man did need a poison now,Whose sale is present death in Mantua,Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'O, this same thought did but forerun my need;And this same needy man must sell it me.As I remember, this should be the house.Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.What, ho! apothecary!
Enter Apothecary
Apothecary
Who calls so loud?
ROMEO
Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:Hold, there is forty ducats: let me haveA dram of poison, such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veinsThat the life-weary taker may fall deadAnd that the trunk may be discharged of breathAs violently as hasty powder firedDoth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
Apothecary
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's lawIs death to any he that utters them.
ROMEO
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;The world is not thy friend nor the world's law;The world affords no law to make thee rich;Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
Apothecary
My poverty, but not my will, consents.
ROMEO
I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
Apothecary
Put this in any liquid thing you will,And drink it off; and, if you had the strengthOf twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
ROMEO
There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,Doing more murders in this loathsome world,Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.Come, cordial and not poison, go with meTo Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
Exeunt

4:5

SCENE V. Juliet's chamber.
Enter Nurse
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 now;Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,The County Paris hath set up his rest,That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!Ay, let the county take you in your bed;He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
Undraws the curtains
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead!O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!
Enter LADY CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What noise is here?
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
What is the matter?
Nurse
Look, look! O heavy day!
LADY CAPULET
O me, O me! My child, my only life,Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!Help, help! Call help.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
Nurse
She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
LADY CAPULET
Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
CAPULET
Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold:Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;Life and these lips have long been separated:Death lies on her like an untimely frostUpon the sweetest flower of all the field.
Nurse
O lamentable day!
LADY CAPULET
O woful time!
CAPULET
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians
FRIAR LAURENCE
Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
CAPULET
Ready to go, but never to return.O son! the night before thy wedding-dayHath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,Flower as she was, deflowered by him.Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
PARIS
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,And doth it give me such a sight as this?
LADY CAPULET
Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!Most miserable hour that e'er time sawIn lasting labour of his pilgrimage!But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,But one thing to rejoice and solace in,And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
Nurse
O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!Most lamentable day, most woful day,That ever, ever, I did yet behold!O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!Never was seen so black a day as this:O woful day, O woful day!
PARIS
Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
CAPULET
Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!Uncomfortable time, why camest thou nowTo murder, murder our solemnity?O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;And with my child my joys are buried.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives notIn these confusions. Heaven and yourselfHad part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,And all the better is it for the maid:Your part in her you could not keep from death,But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.The most you sought was her promotion;For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:And weep ye now, seeing she is advancedAbove the clouds, as high as heaven itself?O, in this love, you love your child so ill,That you run mad, seeing that she is well:She's not well married that lives married long;But she's best married that dies married young.Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemaryOn this fair corse; and, as the custom is,In all her best array bear her to church:For though fond nature bids us an lament,Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
CAPULET
All things that we ordained festival,Turn from their office to black funeral;Our instruments to melancholy bells,Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,And all things change them to the contrary.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;And go, Sir Paris; every one prepareTo follow this fair corse unto her grave:The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;Move them no more by crossing their high will.
Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE
First Musician
Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
Nurse
Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
Exit
First Musician
Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
Enter PETER
PETER
Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart'sease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
First Musician
Why 'Heart's ease?'
PETER
O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'Myheart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,to comfort me.
First Musician
Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
PETER
You will not, then?
First Musician
No.
PETER
I will then give it you soundly.
First Musician
What will you give us?
PETER
No money, on my faith, but the gleek;I will give you the minstrel.
First Musician
Then I will give you the serving-creature.
PETER
Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger onyour pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,I'll fa you; do you note me?
First Musician
An you re us and fa us, you note us.
Second Musician
Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
PETER
Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat youwith an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answerme like men:'When griping grief the heart doth wound,And doleful dumps the mind oppress,Then music with her silver sound'--why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silversound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
Musician
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
PETER
Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
Second Musician
I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
PETER
Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
Third Musician
Faith, I know not what to say.
PETER
O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will sayfor you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'because musicians have no gold for sounding:'Then music with her silver soundWith speedy help doth lend redress.'
Exit
First Musician
What a pestilent knave is this same!
Second Musician
Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for themourners, and stay dinner.
Exeunt

4:4

SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house.
Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
Nurse
They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
Enter CAPULET
CAPULET
Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:Spare not for the cost.
Nurse
Go, you cot-quean, go,Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrowFor this night's watching.
CAPULET
No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere nowAll night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
LADY CAPULET
Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;But I will watch you from such watching now.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
CAPULET
A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets
Now, fellow,What's there?
First Servant
Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
CAPULET
Make haste, make haste.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, fetch drier logs:Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
Second Servant
I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,And never trouble Peter for the matter.
Exit
CAPULET
Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:The county will be here with music straight,For so he said he would: I hear him near.
Music within
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
Re-enter Nurse
Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:Make haste, I say.
Exeunt

4:3

SCENE III. Juliet's chamber.
Enter JULIET and Nurse
JULIET
Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night,For I have need of many orisonsTo move the heavens to smile upon my state,Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
Enter LADY CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
JULIET
No, madam; we have cull'd such necessariesAs 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.
LADY CAPULET
Good night:Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse
JULIET
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,That almost freezes up the heat of life:I'll call them back again to comfort me:Nurse! What should she do here?My dismal scene I needs must act alone.Come, vial.What if this mixture do not work at all?Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
Laying down her dagger
What if it be a poison, which the friarSubtly hath minister'd to have me dead,Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,Because he married me before to Romeo?I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,For he hath still been tried a holy man.How if, when I am laid into the tomb,I wake before the time that RomeoCome to redeem me? there's a fearful point!Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?Or, if I live, is it not very like,The horrible conceit of death and night,Together with the terror of the place,--As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,Where, for these many hundred years, the bonesOf all my buried ancestors are packed:Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,At some hours in the night spirits resort;--Alack, alack, is it not like that I,So early waking, what with loathsome smells,And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,Environed with all these hideous fears?And madly play with my forefather's joints?And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghostSeeking out Romeo, that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
She falls upon her bed, within the curtains

4:2

SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen
CAPULET
So many guests invite as here are writ.
Exit First Servant
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
Second Servant
You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if theycan lick their fingers.
CAPULET
How canst thou try them so?
Second Servant
Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick hisown fingers: therefore he that cannot lick hisfingers goes not with me.
CAPULET
Go, be gone.
Exit Second Servant
We shall be much unfurnished for this time.What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
Nurse
Ay, forsooth.
CAPULET
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.
Enter JULIET
CAPULET
How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
JULIET
Where I have learn'd me to repent the sinOf disobedient oppositionTo you and your behests, and am enjoin'dBy holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
CAPULET
Send for the county; go tell him of this:I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
JULIET
I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;And gave him what becomed love I might,Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
CAPULET
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,Our whole city is much bound to him.
JULIET
Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,To help me sort such needful ornamentsAs you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
LADY CAPULET
No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
CAPULET
Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
Exeunt JULIET and Nurse
LADY CAPULET
We shall be short in our provision:'Tis now near night.
CAPULET
Tush, I will stir about,And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!They are all forth. Well, I will walk myselfTo County Paris, to prepare him upAgainst to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
Exeunt

4:1

ACT IV
SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS
FRIAR LAURENCE
On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
PARIS
My father Capulet will have it so;And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
FRIAR LAURENCE
You say you do not know the lady's mind:Uneven is the course, I like it not.
PARIS
Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,And therefore have I little talk'd of love;For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.Now, sir, her father counts it dangerousThat she doth give her sorrow so much sway,And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,To stop the inundation of her tears;Which, too much minded by herself alone,May be put from her by society:Now do you know the reason of this haste.
FRIAR LAURENCE
[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
Enter JULIET
PARIS
Happily met, my lady and my wife!
JULIET
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
PARIS
That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
JULIET
What must be shall be.
FRIAR LAURENCE
That's a certain text.
PARIS
Come you to make confession to this father?
JULIET
To answer that, I should confess to you.
PARIS
Do not deny to him that you love me.
JULIET
I will confess to you that I love him.
PARIS
So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
JULIET
If I do so, it will be of more price,Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
PARIS
Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
JULIET
The tears have got small victory by that;For it was bad enough before their spite.
PARIS
Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.
JULIET
That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
PARIS
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
JULIET
It may be so, for it is not mine own.Are you at leisure, holy father, now;Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
FRIAR LAURENCE
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
PARIS
God shield I should disturb devotion!Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
Exit
JULIET
O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
FRIAR LAURENCE
Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;It strains me past the compass of my wits:I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,On Thursday next be married to this county.
JULIET
Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,Do thou but call my resolution wise,And with this knife I'll help it presently.God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,Shall be the label to another deed,Or my true heart with treacherous revoltTurn to another, this shall slay them both:Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,Give me some present counsel, or, behold,'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knifeShall play the umpire, arbitrating thatWhich the commission of thy years and artCould to no issue of true honour bring.Be not so long to speak; I long to die,If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,Which craves as desperate an execution.As that is desperate which we would prevent.If, rather than to marry County Paris,Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,Then is it likely thou wilt undertakeA thing like death to chide away this shame,That copest with death himself to scape from it:And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.
JULIET
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,From off the battlements of yonder tower;Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurkWhere 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 skulls;Or bid me go into a new-made graveAnd 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,To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consentTo 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 vial, being then in bed,And this distilled liquor drink thou off;When presently through all thy veins shall runA cold and drowsy humour, for no pulseShall keep his native progress, but surcease:No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fadeTo paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;Each part, deprived of supple government,Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk deathThou shalt continue two and forty hours,And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comesTo 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 bierThou shalt be borne to that same ancient vaultWhere 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 IWill watch thy waking, and that very nightShall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.And this shall free thee from this present shame;If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,Abate thy valour in the acting it.
JULIET
Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperousIn this resolve: I'll send a friar with speedTo Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
JULIET
Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.Farewell, dear father!
Exeunt

3:4

SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house.
Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS
CAPULET
Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,That we have had no time to move our daughter:Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:I promise you, but for your company,I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
PARIS
These times of woe afford no time to woo.Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
LADY CAPULET
I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
CAPULET
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tenderOf my child's love: I think she will be ruledIn 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?
PARIS
Monday, my lord,
CAPULET
Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,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?
PARIS
My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
CAPULET
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 very late,That we may call it early by and by.Good night.
Exeunt
SCENE V. Capulet's orchard.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window
JULIET
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;Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
ROMEO
It was the lark, the herald of the morn,No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaksDo lace the severing clouds in yonder east:Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund dayStands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
JULIET
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.
ROMEO
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 beatThe 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.
JULIET
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 changed voices too!Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day,O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
ROMEO
More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!
Enter Nurse, to the chamber
Nurse
Madam!
JULIET
Nurse?
Nurse
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:The day is broke; be wary, look about.
Exit
JULIET
Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
ROMEO
Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
He goeth down
JULIET
Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!I must hear from thee every day in the hour,For in a minute there are many days:O, by this count I shall be much in yearsEre I again behold my Romeo!
ROMEO
Farewell!I will omit no opportunityThat may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
JULIET
O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
ROMEO
I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serveFor sweet discourses in our time to come.
JULIET
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.
ROMEO
And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
Exit
JULIET
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.
LADY CAPULET
[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up?
JULIET
Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?Is she not down so late, or up so early?What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
Enter LADY CAPULET
LADY CAPULET
Why, how now, Juliet!
JULIET
Madam, I am not well.
LADY CAPULET
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.
JULIET
Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
LADY CAPULET
So shall you feel the loss, but not the friendWhich you weep for.
JULIET
Feeling so the loss,Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
LADY CAPULET
Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
JULIET
What villain madam?
LADY CAPULET
That same villain, Romeo.
JULIET
[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.--God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
LADY CAPULET
That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
JULIET
Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
LADY CAPULET
We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
JULIET
Indeed, I never shall be satisfiedWith Romeo, till I behold him--dead--Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.Madam, if you could find out but a manTo bear a poison, I would temper it;That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhorsTo hear him named, and cannot come to him.To wreak the love I bore my cousinUpon his body that slaughter'd him!
LADY CAPULET
Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
JULIET
And joy comes well in such a needy time:What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
LADY CAPULET
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 look'd not for.
JULIET
Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
LADY CAPULET
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,The gallant, young and noble gentleman,The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
JULIET
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 wedEre he, that should be husband, comes to woo.I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
LADY CAPULET
Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and Nurse
CAPULET
When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;But for the sunset of my brother's sonIt rains downright.How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?Evermore showering? In one little bodyThou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,Without a sudden calm, will oversetThy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
LADY CAPULET
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.I would the fool were married to her grave!
CAPULET
Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,Unworthy as she is, that we have wroughtSo worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
JULIET
Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:Proud can I never be of what I hate;But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
CAPULET
How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you,Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!You tallow-face!
LADY CAPULET
Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
JULIET
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
CAPULET
Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,Or never after look me in the face:Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blestThat God had lent us but this only child;But now I see this one is one too much,And that we have a curse in having her:Out on her, hilding!
Nurse
God in heaven bless her!You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
CAPULET
And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse
I speak no treason.
CAPULET
O, God ye god-den.
Nurse
May not one speak?
CAPULET
Peace, you mumbling fool!Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;For here we need it not.
LADY CAPULET
You are too hot.
CAPULET
God's bread! it makes me mad:Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,Alone, in company, still my care hath beenTo have her match'd: and having now providedA gentleman of noble parentage,Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;And then to have a wretched puling fool,A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:Graze where you will you shall not house with me:Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die inthe streets,For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.
Exit
JULIET
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,That sees into the bottom of my grief?O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!Delay this marriage for a month, a week;Or, if you do not, make the bridal bedIn that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
LADY CAPULET
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
Exit
JULIET
O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;How shall that faith return again to earth,Unless that husband send it me from heavenBy leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagemsUpon so soft a subject as myself!What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?Some comfort, nurse.
Nurse
Faith, here it is.Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing,That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,I think it best you married with the county.O, he's a lovely gentleman!Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eyeAs Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,I think you are happy in this second match,For it excels your first: or if it did not,Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,As living here and you no use of him.
JULIET
Speakest thou from thy heart?
Nurse
And from my soul too;Or else beshrew them both.
JULIET
Amen!
Nurse
What?
JULIET
Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,To make confession and to be absolved.
Nurse
Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.
Exit
JULIET
Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongueWhich she hath praised him with above compareSo 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.
Exit

3:3

SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE
FRIAR LAURENCE
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,And thou art wedded to calamity.
Enter ROMEO
ROMEO
Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,That I yet know not?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Too familiarIs my dear son with such sour company:I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
ROMEO
What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?
FRIAR LAURENCE
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,Not body's death, but body's banishment.
ROMEO
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;'For exile hath more terror in his look,Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hence from Verona art thou banished:Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
ROMEO
There is no world without Verona walls,But purgatory, torture, hell itself.Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,And world's exile is death: then banished,Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
FRIAR LAURENCE
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,And turn'd that black word death to banishment:This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
ROMEO
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dogAnd little mouse, every unworthy thing,Live here in heaven and may look on her;But Romeo may not: more validity,More honourable state, more courtship livesIn carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seizeOn the white wonder of dear Juliet's handAnd steal immortal blessing from her lips,Who even in pure and vestal modesty,Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;But Romeo may not; he is banished:Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:They are free men, but I am banished.And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?O friar, the damned use that word in hell;Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
ROMEO
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
FRIAR LAURENCE
I'll give thee armour to keep off that word:Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
ROMEO
Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
FRIAR LAURENCE
O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
ROMEO
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
FRIAR LAURENCE
Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
ROMEO
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,Doting like me and like me banished,Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,And fall upon the ground, as I do now,Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Knocking within
FRIAR LAURENCE
Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.
ROMEO
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.
Knocking
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;
Knocking
Run to my study. By and by! God's will,What simpleness is this! I come, I come!
Knocking
Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
Nurse
[Within] Let me come in, and you shall knowmy errand;I come from Lady Juliet.
FRIAR LAURENCE
Welcome, then.
Enter Nurse
Nurse
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
FRIAR LAURENCE
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
Nurse
O, he is even in my mistress' case,Just in her case! O woful sympathy!Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;Why should you fall into so deep an O?
ROMEO
Nurse!
Nurse
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
ROMEO
Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?Doth she not think me an old murderer,Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joyWith blood removed but little from her own?Where is she? and how doth she? and what saysMy conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
Nurse
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,And then down falls again.
ROMEO
As if that name,Shot from the deadly level of a gun,Did murder her; as that name's cursed handMurder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,In what vile part of this anatomyDoth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sackThe hateful mansion.
Drawing his sword
FRIAR LAURENCE
Hold thy desperate hand:Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denoteThe unreasonable fury of a beast:Unseemly woman in a seeming man!Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,I thought thy disposition better temper'd.Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?And stay thy lady too that lives in thee,By doing damned hate upon thyself?Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meetIn thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,And usest none in that true use indeedWhich should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,Digressing from the valour of a man;Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,Misshapen in the conduct of them both,Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask,Is set afire by thine own ignorance,And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friendAnd turns it to exile; there art thou happy:A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;Happiness courts thee in her best array;But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:But look thou stay not till the watch be set,For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;Where thou shalt live, till we can find a timeTo blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee backWith twenty hundred thousand times more joyThan thou went'st forth in lamentation.Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;And bid her hasten all the house to bed,Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:Romeo is coming.
Nurse
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the nightTo hear good counsel: O, what learning is!My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
ROMEO
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
Nurse
Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
Exit
ROMEO
How well my comfort is revived by this!
FRIAR LAURENCE
Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:Either be gone before the watch be set,Or by the break of day disguised from hence:Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,And he shall signify from time to timeEvery good hap to you that chances here:Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
ROMEO
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.
Exeunt

3:2

SCENE II. Capulet's orchard.
Enter JULIET
JULIET
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagonerAs Phaethon would whip you to the west,And bring in cloudy night immediately.Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,That runaway's eyes may wink and RomeoLeap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.Lovers can see to do their amorous ritesBy their own beauties; or, if love be blind,It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,And learn me how to lose a winning match,Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,Think true love acted simple modesty.Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;For thou wilt lie upon the wings of nightWhiter than new snow on a raven's back.Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,Take him and cut him out in little stars,And he will make the face of heaven so fineThat all the world will be in love with nightAnd pay no worship to the garish sun.O, I have bought the mansion of a love,But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this dayAs is the night before some festivalTo an impatient child that hath new robesAnd may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,And she brings news; and every tongue that speaksBut Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
Enter Nurse, with cords
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cordsThat Romeo bid thee fetch?
Nurse
Ay, ay, the cords.
Throws them down
JULIET
Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
Nurse
Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!We are undone, lady, we are undone!Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
JULIET
Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse
Romeo can,Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
JULIET
What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison moreThan the death-darting eye of cockatrice:I am not I, if there be such an I;Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
Nurse
I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,--God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.
JULIET
O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
Nurse
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!That ever I should live to see thee dead!
JULIET
What storm is this that blows so contrary?Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!For who is living, if those two are gone?
Nurse
Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
JULIET
O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
Nurse
It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
JULIET
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!Despised substance of divinest show!Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,A damned saint, an honourable villain!O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiendIn moral paradise of such sweet flesh?Was ever book containing such vile matterSo fairly bound? O that deceit should dwellIn such a gorgeous palace!
Nurse
There's no trust,No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae:These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.Shame come to Romeo!
JULIET
Blister'd be thy tongueFor such a wish! he was not born to shame:Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'dSole monarch of the universal earth.O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
Nurse
Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
JULIET
Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;Your tributary drops belong to woe,Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;But, O, it presses to my memory,Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;'That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's deathWas woe enough, if it had ended there:Or, if sour woe delights in fellowshipAnd needly will be rank'd with other griefs,Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,Which modern lamentations might have moved?But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word,Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!'There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?
Nurse
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
JULIET
Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:He made you for a highway to my bed;But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
Nurse
Hie to your chamber: I'll find RomeoTo comfort you: I wot well where he is.Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
JULIET
O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,And bid him come to take his last farewell.
Exeunt

3:1

ACT III
SCENE I. A public place.
Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants
BENVOLIO
I pray thee, good Mercutio, 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.
MERCUTIO
Thou art like one of those fellows that when heenters the confines of a tavern claps me his swordupon the table and says 'God send me no need ofthee!' and by the operation of the second cup drawsit on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
BENVOLIO
Am I like such a fellow?
MERCUTIO
Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood asany in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and assoon moody to be moved.
BENVOLIO
And what to?
MERCUTIO
Nay, an there were two such, we should have noneshortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why,thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thouwilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having noother reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: whateye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full ofmeat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle asan egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with aman for coughing in the street, because he hathwakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearinghis new doublet before Easter? with another, fortying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thouwilt tutor me from quarrelling!
BENVOLIO
An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any manshould buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
MERCUTIO
The fee-simple! O simple!
BENVOLIO
By my head, here come the Capulets.
MERCUTIO
By my heel, I care not.
Enter TYBALT and others
TYBALT
Follow me close, for I will speak to them.Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.
MERCUTIO
And but one word with one of us? couple it withsomething; make it a word and a blow.
TYBALT
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an youwill give me occasion.
MERCUTIO
Could you not take some occasion without giving?
TYBALT
Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--
MERCUTIO
Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? anthou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing butdiscords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shallmake you dance. 'Zounds, consort!
BENVOLIO
We talk here in the public haunt of men:Either withdraw unto some private place,And reason coldly of your grievances,Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
MERCUTIO
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Enter ROMEO
TYBALT
Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.
MERCUTIO
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'
TYBALT
Romeo, the hate I bear thee can affordNo better term than this,--thou art a villain.
ROMEO
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love theeDoth much excuse the appertaining rageTo such a greeting: villain am I none;Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
TYBALT
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuriesThat thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
ROMEO
I do protest, I never injured 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 tenderAs dearly as my own,--be satisfied.
MERCUTIO
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!Alla stoccata carries it away.
Draws
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
TYBALT
What wouldst thou have with me?
MERCUTIO
Good king of cats, nothing but one of your ninelives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as youshall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of theeight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcherby the ears? make haste, lest mine be about yourears ere it be out.
TYBALT
I am for you.
Drawing
ROMEO
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
MERCUTIO
Come, sir, your passado.
They fight
ROMEO
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hathForbidden bandying in Verona streets:Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!
TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers
MERCUTIO
I am hurt.A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.Is he gone, and hath nothing?
BENVOLIO
What, art thou hurt?
MERCUTIO
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
Exit Page
ROMEO
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
MERCUTIO
No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as achurch-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask forme to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. Iam peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, acat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, arogue, a villain, that fights by the book ofarithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? Iwas hurt under your arm.
ROMEO
I thought all for the best.
MERCUTIO
Help me into some house, Benvolio,Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,And soundly too: your houses!
Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO
ROMEO
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,My very friend, hath got his mortal hurtIn my behalf; my reputation stain'dWith Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hourHath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet,Thy beauty hath made me effeminateAnd in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
Re-enter BENVOLIO
BENVOLIO
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
ROMEO
This day's black fate on more days doth depend;This but begins the woe, others must end.
BENVOLIO
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
ROMEO
Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!Away to heaven, respective lenity,And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!
Re-enter TYBALT
Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soulIs but a little way above our heads,Staying for thine to keep him company:Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
TYBALT
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,Shalt with him hence.
ROMEO
This shall determine that.
They fight; TYBALT falls
BENVOLIO
Romeo, away, be gone!The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!
ROMEO
O, I am fortune's fool!
BENVOLIO
Why dost thou stay?
Exit ROMEO
Enter Citizens, & c
First Citizen
Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
BENVOLIO
There lies that Tybalt.
First Citizen
Up, sir, go with me;I charge thee in the princes name, obey.
Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others
PRINCE
Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
BENVOLIO
O noble prince, I can discover allThe unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
LADY CAPULET
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spiltO my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.O cousin, cousin!
PRINCE
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
BENVOLIO
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethinkHow nice the quarrel was, and urged withalYour high displeasure: all this utteredWith gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,Could not take truce with the unruly spleenOf Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tiltsWith piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beatsCold death aside, and with the other sendsIt back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter thanhis tongue,His agile arm beats down their fatal points,And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose armAn envious thrust from Tybalt hit the lifeOf stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;But by and by comes back to Romeo,Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere ICould draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
LADY CAPULET
He is a kinsman to the Montague;Affection makes him false; he speaks not true:Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,And all those twenty could but kill one life.I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
PRINCE
Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
MONTAGUE
Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;His fault concludes but what the law should end,The life of Tybalt.
PRINCE
And for that offenceImmediately we do exile him hence:I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;But I'll amerce you with so strong a fineThat you shall all repent the loss of mine:I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses:Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.Bear hence this body and attend our will:Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
Exeunt