Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's, And turn'd that black word death to banishdeath
Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship,
And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,—
Why follow'd not, when she said-Tybalt's
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, [dead,
Which modernt lamentation might have mov'd?
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
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Fri. Hence from Verona art thou banished: Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. Rom. There is no world without Verona But purgatory, torture, hell itself. [walls, Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, And world's exile is death :-then banishment Is death misterm'd: calling death-banishment, Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe, And smil'st upon the stroke that murders me. Fri. 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,
1. e. Is worse than the loss of ten thousand Tybalts.
+ Common.
+ Know.
This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
Rom. 'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is
Where Juliet lives; and every cat, and dog,
And 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 lives
In carrion flies, than Romeo: they may seize
On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand,
And 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, when 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-banishment?
Fri. Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak
Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banish
Fri. I'll give thee armour to keep off that
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, [word;
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
Rom. 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.
Fri. O, then I see that madmen have no
Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Fri. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
Rom. Thou canst not speak of what thou
dost not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou
tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
Fri. Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide
thyself.
[Knocking within.
Rom. Not I, unless the breath of heart-sick
groans,
Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.
[Knocking.
Fri. Hark, how they knock !-Who's there?
-Romeo, arise; Thou wilt be taken:-Stay a while: stand up; [Knocking.
What wilfulness is this?-I come, I come. Run to my study-By and by :-God's will! [Knocking.
Who knocks so hard? whence come you?
what's your will?
Nurse. [Within.] Let me come in, and you
shall know my errand;
I come from lady Juliet.
Fri. Welcome then.
Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo! * Worth, value.
Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skill-less soldier's flask,
Is set on fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own de-
fence.*
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 art thou happy
[friend,
The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy
Torn to pieces with thine own weapons.
| And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a mis-behav'd 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 time
To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
With twenty hundred thousand times more
joy
Than 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 staid here all the night,
To hear good counsel: O, what learning is !My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to
Nurse. Here, Sir, a ring she bid me give you, Sir:
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit NURSE.
Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Fri. Go hence: Good night; and here stands all your state;*
Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence:
Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
And he shall signify from time to time
Every good hap to you, that chances here:
Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good
night.
Rom. But that a joy past joy calls out on
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-A Room in CAPULET'S House. Enter CAPULET, Lady CAPULET, and PARIS. Cap. Things have fallen out, Sir, so unThat we have had no time to move our daughluckily, Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dear[ly, And so did I;-Well, we were born to die.I promise you, but for your company, 'Tis very late, she'll not come down to night: I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Par. These times of woe afford no time to
Cap. Monday? ha! ha! Well, Wednesday The day is broke; be wary,
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 Thurs-
day?
Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were
Cap. Well, get you gone:-O'Thursday be
it then :-
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.-
Farewell, my lord.-Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very late, that we
May call it early by and by :-Good night.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.-JULIET'S Chamber.
Enter ROMEO and JULIET.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near It was the nightingale, and not the lark, [day: That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom. It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops;
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I:
It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.
Rom. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to
I am content, so thou wilt have it so. [death;
I'll say, yon grey is not the morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;*
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
I have more caret to stay, than will to go;-
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it
How is't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Jul. It is, it is, hie hence, be gone, away;
It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
Straining harsh discords, and unpleasing
sharps.
Some say, the lark makes sweet division ;+
This doth not so, for she divideth us: [eyes;
Some say,
the lark and loathed toad change
O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunts-ups to the day.
O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
Rom. More light and light?-more dark and
dark our woes.
Enter NURSE.
look about.
Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let lite
out.
Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and l
descend.
[ROMEO descende
Jul. Art thou gone so? my love! my lord!
I must hear from thee every day i'the hour,
For in a minute there are many days:
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere l'again behold my Romeo.
Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to the
Jul. O, think'st thou, we shall ever m
again?
Rom. I doubt it not; and all these was
shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time to come,
Jul. O God! I have an ill-divining soul:
Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale
Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so d
Enter LADY CAPULET.
La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet?
Jul. Madam, I am not well.
La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's
[tears! What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; Therefore, have done: Some grief shows much of love; .
[wil But much of grief shows still some want of Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. La. Cup. So shall you feel the loss, but net the friend Which you weep for.
Jul. Feeling so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so
much for his death,
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, madam?
La. Cap. That same villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
La. Cap. That is, because the traitor mur
Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my [death!
'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in ManWhere that same banish'd runagate doth live,
That shall bestow on him so sure a draught, That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd:-
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet.-O, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam'd,-and cannot come to
him,-
To wreak the love I bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful
father, child;
One, who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
That thou expect'st not, nor I look'd not for.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is
that?
La. Cap. 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.
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and
Peter too,
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
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!
La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him
so yourself.
And see how he will take it at your hands.
Enter CAPULET and NURSE..
Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle But for the sunset of my brother's son, [dew; It rains downright.
How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore showering? In one little body
Thou 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 overset
Thy tempest-tossed body.-How now, wife?
Have you delivered to her our decree?
La. Cap. Ay, Sir; but she will none, she
gives you thanks.
I would, the fool were married to her grave!
Cap. Soft, take me with you, take me with
you, wife.
[thanks?
How! will she none? doth she not give us
Is she not proud? doth she not count her
bless'd,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Jul. 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. Cap. 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, [next, But settle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday 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 You tallow-face! [baggage! La. Cap. Fie, fie! what, are you mad? Jul. Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Cap. Hang thee, young baggage! disobe-
dient wretch!
[day,
I tell thee what,-get thee to church o'Thurs-
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me:
My fingers itch.-Wife, we scarce thought us
bless'd,
That God had sent 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.
Cap. And why, my lady wisdom? hold your
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
Nurse. I speak no treason.
Cap. O, God ye good den!
Nurse. May not one speak?
Cup. Peace, you mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it not.
La. Cap. You are too hot.
Cap. God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, late, early,
At home, abroad, alone, in company,
Waking, or sleeping, still my care hath been
To have her match'd; and having now pro-
A gentleman of princely parentage, [vided
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd (as they say,) with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart could wish a
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, an 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;
An you be not, hang, beg, starve, die i'the
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.
Jul. 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 bed In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. La. Cap. Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word;
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit.
Jul. O God!-0 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 heaven
By leaving earth?-Comfort me, counsel me.-
Alack, alack, that heaven should practise
stratagems
Upon so soft a subject as myself!
What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
Some comfort, nurse.
Nurse. 'Faith, here 'tis: Romeo
Is banished; and all the world to nothing,
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge
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 eye,
As 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.
Jul. Speakest thou from thy heart?
Nurse. From my soul too;
Or else beshrew them both.
Jul. Amen!
Nurse. To what?
SCENE I.-Friar LAURENCE'S Cell.
Enter Friar LAURENCE and PARIS.
Fri. On Thursday, Sir? the time is very
short.
Par. My father Capulet will have it so; And I am nothing slow, to slack his haste. Fri. You say, you do not know the lady's mind;
Uneven is the course, I like it not.
Par. Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's
death,
And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
Now, Sir, her father counts it dangerous,
That 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.
Fri. I would I knew not why it should be
[Aside.
Look, Sir, here comes the lady towards my
cell.
Par. Happily met, my lady, and my wife Jul. That may be, Sir, when I may be a wife.
Par. That may be, must be, love, on Thurs-
day next.
Jul. What must be shall be.
Fri. That's a certain text.
Par. Come you to make confession to this
father?
Jul. To answer that, were to confess to you.
Pur. Do not deny to him, that you love.
Jul. I will confess to you, that I love hin
Par. So will you, I am sure, that you love
Jul. If I do so, it will be of more price, Being spoke behind your back, than to yo face.
Par. Poor soul, thy face is much abus'd wit
Jul. The tears have got small victory b 1
For it was bad enough, before their spite.
Par. Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with
that report.
Jul. That is no slander, Sir, that is a truth;
And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
Par. Thy face is mine, and thou hast slan-
der'd it.
Jul. 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?
Fri. My leisure serves me, persive daugh-
ter, now:-
My lord we must entreat the time alone.
Par. God shield, I should disturb deve-
tion!-
Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse you:
Till then, adieu! and keep this holy kiss.
[Exit PARIS.
Jul. O, shut the door! and when thou hast
done so,
Come weep with me; Past hope, past cure, past help!
Fri. Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; It strains me past the compass of my wits: (it I hear thou must, and nothing must prorogue On Thursday next be married to this county.
Jul. 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,
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our
And with this knife I'll help it presently.
And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Shall be the label to another deed,
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Give me some present counsel; or, behold,
Therefore, out of thy long-experienc'd time,
"Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play the umpire ;* arbitrating that
Which the commissiont of thy years and art
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
Fri. Hold, daughter; I do spy a kind of
hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
If, rather than to marry county Paris,
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
* Decide the struggle between me and my distresses.
+ Authority or power.
|