SCENE II. A Room in CAPULET's House. Enter JULIET. Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' mansion; such a waggoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately.Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night! That run-away's eyes may wink; and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalk'd of, and unseen! Lovers can see to do their amorous rites By their own beauties: or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil 2 night, Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, 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, Romeo! come, thou day Come, night! For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. - night, Give me my Romeo: and, when he shall die, 2 Grave, solemn. 5 4 These are terms of falconry. 5 Gaudy, showy. O, I have bought the mansion of a love, To an impatient child that hath new robes, may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, Enter Nurse, with Cords. And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there, the cords, That Romeo bade thee fetch? Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws them down. Jul. Ah 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! Jul. Can heaven be so envious? Nurse. Though heaven cannot : - Romeo can, -O Romeo! Romeo! Who ever would have thought it? - Romeo! thus ? This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. 6 In Shakspeare's time the affirmative particle ay was usually written I, and here it is necessary to retain the old spelling. VOL. X. H I am not I, if there be such an I; Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer I. 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 bedawb'd in blood, All in gore blood; I swoonded at the sight. Jul. O break, my heart! —poor bankrupt, break at once! To prison, eyes! ne'er look on liberty! That ever I should live to see thee dead! Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary? Is Romeo slaughter'd: and is Tybalt dead? My dear-lov'd 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. Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? Nurse. It did, it did: alas the day! it did. Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend Nurse. There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjur'd, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ : These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo! Jul. Blister'd be thy tongue, For such a wish! he was not born to shame: Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit; For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd O, what a beast was I to chide at him! Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? Jul. 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 villian 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, 7 To smooth, in ancient language, is to stroke, to caress. That murder'd me; I would forget it fain; Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds; 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. Jul. 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 beguil'd, Both you and I: for Romeo is exíl'd: He made you for a highway to my bed; But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. Come, chords; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding bed; And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! 8i.. Is worse than the loss of ten thousand Tybalts. 9 Common. |