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By a name Which is the god of my idolatry, I know not how to tell thee who I am:
And I'll believe thee. My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
If my heart's dear love Because it is an enemy to thee;
Jul. Well, do not swear : although I joy in thee, Had I it written, I would tear the word.
I have no joy of this contract to-night : Jul. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words | It is too rash, too unadvis'd, too sudden; Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague?
Ere one can say - It lightens. Sweet, good night! Rom. Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, Jul. How cam'st thou hither, tell me ? and where- May prove a beauteous flower when next we meets, fóre?
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest The orchard walls are high, and hard to climb; Come to thy heart, as that within my breast ! And the place death, considering who thou art, Rom. 0, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied ? If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
Jul. What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? Rom. With love's light wings did I o'er-perch Rom. The exchange of thy love's faithful row for these walls;
mine. For stony limits cannot hold love out:
Jul. I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And what love can do, that dares love attempt; And yet I would it were to give again. Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
Rom. Would'st thou withdraw it? for what purJul. If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
Rom. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye, Jul. But to be frank, and give it thee again. Than twenty of their swords ; look thou but sweet, And yet I wish but for the thing I have : And I am proof against their enmity.
My bounty is as boundless as the sea, Jul. I would not for the world, they saw thee My love as deep; the more I give to thee, here.
The more I have, for both are infinite. Rom. I have night's cloak to hide me from their
[Nurse calis triker sight;
I hear some noise within ; Dear love, adieu ! And, but thou love me, let them find me here: Anon, good nurse! — Sweet Montague, be true. My life were better ended by their hate,
Stay but a little, I will come again. Than death prorogued, wantirg of thy love.
Rom. O blessed blessed night! I am afeard, Jul. By whose direction found'st thou out this Being in night, all this is but a dream, place ?
Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. Rom. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
Re-enter JULIET, above. He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.
Jul. Three words, dear Romeo, and good nigtig I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
indeed. As that vast shore wash'd with the furthest sea, If that thy bent of love be honourable, I would adventure for such merchandise.
Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, Jul. Thou know'st, the mask of night is on my By one that I'll procure to come to thee, face;
Where, and what time, thou wilt perform the rike;. Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. And follow thee my lord throughout the world. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
Nurse. [Within.] Madam.
By and by, I come: If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully :
To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief : Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
To-morrow will I send. I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thrive my soul, So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world. Jul. A thousand times good night! In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ;
Rom. A thousand times the worse, to want thy And therefore thou may'st think my haviour light :
light. But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
books; I should have been more strange, I must confess, But love from love, toward school with beary looks But that thou over-heard’st, ere I was ware,
[Retiring slosti My true love's passion : therefore pardon me; And not impute this yielding to light love,
Re-enter JULIET, above. Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Jul. Hist! Romeo, hist! - 0, for a falconer's Rom. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear,
voice, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops, - To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Jul. 0, swear not by the moon, the inconstant Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where echo lies, That monthly changes in her circled orb,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mins Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
With repetition of my Romeo's name. Rom. What shall I swear by ?
Rom. It is my soul, that calls upon my name : Jul.
Do not swear at all; | How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Like softest musick to attending cars !
Jul. Romeo !
Young son, it argues a distemper'd head,
So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed :
At what o'clock to-morrow Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, Shall I send to thee?
And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; Rom.
At the hour of nine. But where unbruised youth with unstuff"d brain Jul. I will not fail ; 'tis twenty years till then. Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reigns I have forgot why I did call thee back.
Therefore thy earliness doth me assure,
Jul. I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Or if not so, then here I hit it right-
Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. Rom. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Rom. That last is true, the sweeter rest was mine. Forgetting any other home but this.
Fri. God pardon sin ! wast thou with Rosaline ? Jul. 'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone: Rom. With Rosaline, my ghostly father ? no; And yet no further than a wanton's bird ;
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Fri. That's my good son: But where hast thou Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
been then? And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
Rom. I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. So loving-jealous of his liberty.
I have been feasting with mine enemy; Rom. I would, I were thy bird.
Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me, Jul.
Sweet, so would I : That's by me wounded; both our remedies Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Within thy help and holy physick lies : Good night, good night! parting is such sweet I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo, sorrow,
My intercession likewise steads my foe. That I shall say good night, till it be morrow. Fri. Be plain, good son, and homely in thy
drift; Rom. Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. breast !
Rom. Then plainly know, my heart's dear love 'Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest I
is set Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell ;
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet : His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. (Exis. As mine on her's, so hers is set on mine ;
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine SCENE III. - Friar Laurence's Cell. By holy marriage : When, and where, and how,
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow, . Enter Friar LAURENCE, with a basket.
I'll tell thee as we pass ; but this I pray, Fri. The grey-ey'd morn smiles on the frowning That thou consent to marry us this day. night,
Fri. Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here ! Checkering the eastern clouds with streaks of light ; Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies From forth day's path-way, made by Titan's wheels: Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Now ere the sun advance his burning eye,
Jesu Maria ! what a deal of brine The day to cheer; and night's dank dew to dry, Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline ! I must up-fill this osier cage of ours,
How much salt water thrown away in waste, With baleful weeds, and precious-juiced flowers. To season love, that of it doth not taste ! The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb; The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, What is her burying grave, that is her womb : Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears ; And from her womb children of divers kind Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit We sucking on her natural bosom find;
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet : Many for many virtues excellent,
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine, None but for some, and yet all different.
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline ; 0, mickle is the powerful grace, that lies
And art thou chang'd? , pronounce this sentence In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities :
then For nought so vile that on the earth doth live, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. But to the earth some special good doth give;
Rom. Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline. Nor aught so good, but, strain'd from that fair use, Fri. For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse :
Rom. And bad’st me bury love. Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied ;
Not in a grave, And vice sometime's by action dignified.
To lay one in, another out to have. Within the infant rind of this small flower
Rom. I pray thee, chide not : she, whom I love Poison hath residence, and med'eine power :
now, For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; Doth grace for grace, and love for love allow; Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
The other did not so. Two such opposed focs encamp them still
O, she knew well, In man as well as herbs, grace, and rude will ; Thy love did read by rote, and could not spell. And, where the worser is predominant,
But come, young waverer, come go with me, Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households' rancour to pure love. Rom. Good morrow, father!
Rom. O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. Fri.
Fri. Wisely, and slow; They stumble, that run What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
cry a match.
SCENE IV. – A Street.
Rom. Why, then is my pump well flowered.
Mer. Well said: Follow me this jest now, till Enter B&NVOLIO and MERCUTIO.
thou hast worn out thy pump; that, when the single Mer. Where the devil should this Romeo be? sole of it is worn, the jest may remain, after the Came he not home to-night?
wearing, solely singular. Ben. Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
Rom. O single-soled jest, solely singular for the Mer. Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench,
singleness ! that Rosaline,
Mer. Come between us, good Benvolio; my sits Torments him so, that he will sure run mad..
fail. Ben. Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
Rom. Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; o I'll Hath sent a letter to his father's house. Mer. A challenge, on my life.
Mer. Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, Ben. Romeo will answer it.
I have done ; for thou hast more of the wild-goose Mer. Any man, that can write, may answer a
in one of thy wits, than, I am sure, I have in my letter.
whole five : Was I with you there for the goose ? Ben. Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how
Rom. Thou wast never with me for any thing, he dares, being dared.
when thou wast not there for the goose. Mer. Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead!
Mer. I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot tho
Rom. Nay, good goose, bite not. rough the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his
Mer. Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft;
most sharp sauce. And is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Rom. And is it not well served in to a sweet Ben. Why, what is Tybalt? Mer. More than prince of cats, (I can tell you.
Mer. O, here's a wit of cheverel, that stretches O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. from an inch narrow to an ell broad! He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, dis- Rom. I stretch it out for that word-brosd: tance, and proportion ; rests me his minim rest, one, which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide two, and the third in your bosom : the very butcher a broad goose. of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist ; a gentleman
Mer. Why, is not this better now than groaning of the very first house, of the first and second for love ? now art thou sociable, nor art thou Ra cause : Ah, the immortal passado! the punto re- meo; now art thou what thou art, by art as wel » verso ! the hay !
by nature : for this drivelling love is like a great 13Ben. The what?
tural, that runs lolling up and down to hide bis Mer. The pox of such antick, lisping, affecting bauble in a hole. fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents !-By Jesu,
Ben. Stop there, stop there. a very good blade !-- a very tall man! - a very good
Mer. Thou desirest me to stop in my tale agains whore !-- Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grand the
hair. sire, that we should be thus afflicted with these Ben. Thou would'st else have made thy tale langs strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardon- Mer. O, thou art deceived, I would have siasde nez-moy's, who stand so much on the new form, it short : for I was come to the whole depth of my that they cannot sit at ease on the old bench? o, tale : and meant, indeed, to occupy the argumes their bons, their bons !
Rom. Here's goodly geer!
Enter Nurse and PETER.
Mer. Without his roe, like a dried herring: -0, Mer. A sail, a sail, a sail ! flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified ! — Now is he for Ben. Two, two; a shirt, and a smock. the numbers that Petrarch flowed in : Laura, to his Nurse. Peter ! . lady, was but a kitchen-wench;
- marry, she had a
Peter. Anon? better love to be-rhyme her: Dido, a dowdy; Cle- Nurse. My fan, Peter. opatra, a gipsy; Helen and Hero, hildings and har- Mer. Pr'ythee, do, good Peter, to hide her face; lots ; Thisbé, a grey eye or so, but not to the pur- for her fan's the fairer of the two. pose. Signior Romeo, bon jour ! there's a French Nurse. God ye good morrow, gentlemen. salutation to your French slop. You gave us the Mer. God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. counterfeit fairly last night.
Nurse. Is it good den ? Rom. Good morrow to you both. What coun- Mer. 'Tis no less, I tell you ; for the bawdy hatal terfeit did I give you ?
of the dial is now upon the prick of noon. Mer. The slip, sir, the slip; Can you not con- Nurse. Out upon you ! what a man are you? ceive ?
Rom. One, gentlewoman, that God hath made Rom. Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was himself to mar. great; and, in such a case as mine, a man may strain Nurse. By my troth, it is well said ;-For hins courtesy.
to mar, quoth'a? - Gentlemen, can any of you to Mer. That's as much as to say such a case as me where I may find the young Romeo ? yours constrains a man to bow in the hams.
Rom. I can tell you ; but young Romeo will Rom. Meaning — to court'sy.
older when you have found him, than he was whs Mer. Thou hast most kindly lit it.
you sought him: I am the youngest of that we Rom. A most courteous exposition.
for 'fault of a worse. Mer. Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. Nurse. You say well. Rom. Pink for flower.
Mer. Yea, is the worst well? very well soola Mer. Right.
i'faith ; wisely, wisely,
Nurse. If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence | Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night. Ben. She will indite him to some supper. Farewell ! - Be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains, Mer. A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Farewell ! - Commend me to thy mistress. Rom. What hast thou found ?
Nurse. Now God in heaven bless thee ! - Hark Mer. No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a enten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it Rom. What say'st thou, my dear nurse? ne spent.
Nurse. Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear An old hare hoar,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away ?
Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel.
Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest Is too much for a score,
lady - Lord, lord ! — when 'twas a little prating When it hoars ère it be spent.
thing, - 0, there's a noblemart in town, one Paris,
that would fain lay knife aboard ; but she, good Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to soul, had as lieve see a toad, a very toad, as see Linner thither.
him. I anger her sometimes, and tell her that Paris Rom. I will follow you.
is the properer man; but, I'l warrant you, when I Mer. Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, lady, say so, she looks as pale as any clout in the varsal lady, lady.
world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both [Éreunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. with a letter ? Nurse. Marry, farewell ! - I pray you, sir, what Rom. Ay, nurse; What of that? both with an R. aucy merchant was this, that was so full of his Nurse. Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R. pery?
is for the dog. No; I know it begins with some Rom. A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear other letter : and she hath the prettiest sententious imself talk; and will speak more in a minute, than of it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you e will stand to in a month.
good to hear it. Nurse. An 'a speak any thing against me, I'll Rom. Commend me to thy lady. [E:rit. ke him down an 'a were lustier than he is, and Nurse. Ay, a thousand times. Peter ! venty such Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those Pet. Anon? hat shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt- Nurse. Peter, Take my fan, and go before. fills; I am none of his skains-mates :- And thou
(Eseunt ust stand by too, and suffer every knave to use me - his pleasure ?
SCENE V. - Capulet's Garden. Pet. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I
Enter JULIET. ad, my weapon should quickly have been out, I arrant you : I dare draw as soon as another man, Jul. The clock struck nine, when I did send the I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law on
nurse ; y side.
In half an hour she promis'd to return. Vurse. Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that Perchance, she cannot meet him:— that's not so. ery part about me quivers. Scurvy knave ! -0, she is lame ! love's heralds should be thoughts, ray you, sir, a word: and as I told you, my young Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, dy bade me inquire you out; what she bade me Driving back shadows over lowring hills : y, I will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye,
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, ye should lead her into a fool's paradise, as they And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. y, it were a very gross kind of behaviour, as they Now is the sun upon the highmost hili y : for the gentlewoman is young; and, therefore, of this day's journey; and from nine till twelve you should deal double with her, truly, it were
Is three long hours, — yet she is not come. ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and Had she affections, and warm youthful blood, ry weak dealing.
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball ;
And his to me:
Enter Nurse and PETER. t mark me. Vurse. I will tell her, sir, — that you do protest; O God, she comes ! - O honey nurse, what news ? ich, as I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. Rom. Bid her devise some means to come to shrift Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Erit PETER. ris afternoon;
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse, ò lord! why d there she shall at friar Laurence' cell
look'st thou sad ? | shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains. Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; Nurse. No, truly, sir ; not a penny.
If good, thou sham'st the musick of sweet news Rom. Go to; I say, you shall.
By playing it to me with so sour a face. Nurse. This afternoon, sir ? well, she shall be Nurse. I am aweary, give me leave a while ; –
Fye, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had! Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey- Jul. I would, thou hadst my bones, and I thy wall:
news : thin this hour my man shall be with thee; Nay, come, I pray thee, speak ;-good, good 'nurse, id bring thee cords made like a tackled stairs
Nurse. Jesu, What haste ? can you not stay | To fetch a ladder, by the which your love awhile ?
Must climb a bird's nest soon, when it is dark: Do you not see, that I am out of breath ?
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; Jul. How art thou out of breath, when thou hast But you shall bear the burden soon at night. breath
Go, I'll to dinner ; hie you to the cell. To say to me — that thou art out of breath ?
Jul. Hie to high fortune!- honest purse, fareThe excuse, that thou dost make in this delay,
(Eszt. Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that ;
SCENE VI.-Friar Laurence's Cell Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance :
Enter Friar LAURENCE and ROMEO. Let me be satisfied, Is't good or bad ?
Nurse. Well, you have made a simple choice ; Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy at you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! no, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not ! not he; though his face be better than any man's, Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand, and a It cannot countervail the exchange of joy foot, and a body, - though they be not to be talked That one short minute gives me in her sight: on, yet they are past compare : He is not the flower Do thou but close our hands with holy words, of courtesy, - but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a Then love-devouring death do what he dare, lamb. Go thy ways, wench; serve God. - What, It is enough I may but call her mine. have you dined at home?
Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, Jul. No, no: But all this did I know before; And in their triumph die ; like fire and powder,' What says he of our marriage ? what of that ? Which, as they kiss, consume: The sweetest bonry Nurse. Lord, how my head akes! what a head Is loathsome in his own deliciousness, have I?
And in the taste confounds the appetite : It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces,
Therefore, love moderately; long lore doth so;
Here comes the lady; - 0, so light a foot Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: love?
A lover may bestride the gossomers
Frie Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for B within ;
both. Where should she be? How oddly thou reply'st ?
Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks to Your love says like an honest gentleman,
much. Where is your mother ?
Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Nurse.
O, God's lady dear! Be heap'd like mine, and that thy skill be more Are you so hot? Marry, come up, I trow;
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath Is this the poultice for my aking bones ?
This neighbour air, and let rich musick's tongue Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both Jul. Here's such a coil, - Come, what says Receive in either by this dear encounter. Romeo ?
Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in works Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? Brags of his substance, not of ornament :* Jul. I have
They are but beggars that can count their worth; Nurse. Then hie you hence to friar Laurence' But my true love is grown to such excess, cell,
I cannot sum up half my sum of wealth. There stays a husband to make you a wife :
Fri. Come, come, with me, and we will als Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
short work; They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. ,
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone, Hie you to church; I must another way,
Till holy church incorporate two in one. (Emsat.
SCENE I. - A publick Place.
Ben. I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire ;
Mer. Thou art like one of those fellows, that, when he enters the confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says, God send me no need of thee! and, by the operation of the second
cup, draws it on the drawer, when, indeed, hvor is no need.
Ben. Am I like such a fellow ?
Mer. Come, come, thou art as lot a Jack in e mood as any in Italy; and as soon moved tab moody, and as soon moody to be mored.
Ben. And what to?
Mer. Nay, an there were two sucı, we have none shortly, for one would kill the de Thou ! why thou wilt quarrel with a tzuan that he a hair more, or a hair less, in his beard, then