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First Citizen: Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! |
CAPULET: What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! |
LADY CAPULET: A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? |
CAPULET: My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, And flourishes his blade in spite of me. |
MONTAGUE: Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. |
LADY MONTAGUE: Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. |
PRINCE: Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins, On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the gro... |
MONTAGUE: Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? |
BENVOLIO: Here were the servants of your adversary, And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: I drew to part them: in the instant came The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, He swung about his head and cut the winds, Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: While w... |
LADY MONTAGUE: O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? Right glad I am he was not at this fray. |
BENVOLIO: Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made, but he was ware of me And stole into the co... |
MONTAGUE: Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from the light steals home my heavy son, And priva... |
BENVOLIO: My noble uncle, do you know the cause? |
MONTAGUE: I neither know it nor can learn of him. |
BENVOLIO: Have you importuned him by any means? |
MONTAGUE: Both by myself and many other friends: But he, his own affections' counsellor, Is to himself--I will not say how true-- But to himself so secret and so close, So far from sounding and discovery, As is the bud bit with an envious worm, Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, Or dedicate his beauty to th... |
BENVOLIO: See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. |
MONTAGUE: I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. |
BENVOLIO: Good-morrow, cousin. |
ROMEO: Is the day so young? |
BENVOLIO: But new struck nine. |
ROMEO: Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? |
BENVOLIO: It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? |
ROMEO: Not having that, which, having, makes them short. |
BENVOLIO: In love? |
ROMEO: Out-- |
BENVOLIO: Of love? |
ROMEO: Out of her favour, where I am in love. |
BENVOLIO: Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! |
ROMEO: Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! ... |
BENVOLIO: No, coz, I rather weep. |
ROMEO: Good heart, at what? |
BENVOLIO: At thy good heart's oppression. |
ROMEO: Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; ... |
BENVOLIO: Soft! I will go along; An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. |
ROMEO: Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; This is not Romeo, he's some other where. |
BENVOLIO: Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. |
ROMEO: What, shall I groan and tell thee? |
BENVOLIO: Groan! why, no. But sadly tell me who. |
ROMEO: Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. |
BENVOLIO: I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. |
ROMEO: A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. |
BENVOLIO: A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. |
ROMEO: Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, s... |
BENVOLIO: Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? |
ROMEO: She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, For beauty starved with her severity Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now. |
BENVOLIO: Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. |
ROMEO: O, teach me how I should forget to think. |
BENVOLIO: By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. |
ROMEO: 'Tis the way To call hers exquisite, in question more: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a no... |
BENVOLIO: I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. |
CAPULET: But Montague is bound as well as I, In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, For men so old as we to keep the peace. |
PARIS: Of honourable reckoning are you both; And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? |
CAPULET: But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world; She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, Let two more summers wither in their pride, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. |
PARIS: Younger than she are happy mothers made. |
CAPULET: And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice. This night I hold a... |
Servant: Find them out whose names are written here! It is written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am sent to find those persons whose names are here writ, and can never find what names the writing person hat... |
BENVOLIO: Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; One desperate grief cures with another's languish: Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die. |
ROMEO: Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. |
BENVOLIO: For what, I pray thee? |
ROMEO: For your broken shin. |
BENVOLIO: Why, Romeo, art thou mad? |
ROMEO: Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; Shut up in prison, kept without my food, Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. |
Servant: God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? |
ROMEO: Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. |
Servant: Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I pray, can you read any thing you see? |
ROMEO: Ay, if I know the letters and the language. |
Servant: Ye say honestly: rest you merry! |
ROMEO: Stay, fellow; I can read. 'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and... |
Servant: Up. |
ROMEO: Whither? |
Servant: To supper; to our house. |
ROMEO: Whose house? |
Servant: My master's. |
ROMEO: Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. |
Servant: Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. Rest you merry! |
BENVOLIO: At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, With all the admired beauties of Verona: Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. |
ROMEO: When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; And these, who often drown'd could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. |
BENVOLIO: Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself poised with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now shows best. |
ROMEO: I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. |
LADY CAPULET: Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. |
Nurse: Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! |
JULIET: How now! who calls? |
Nurse: Your mother. |
JULIET: Madam, I am here. What is your will? |
LADY CAPULET: This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. |
Nurse: Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. |
LADY CAPULET: She's not fourteen. |
Nurse: I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- She is not fourteen. How long is it now To Lammas-tide? |
LADY CAPULET: A fortnight and odd days. |
Nurse: Even or odd, of all days in the year, Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; She was too good for me: but, as I said, On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; That shall she, marry; I remember it well. 'Tis sinc... |
LADY CAPULET: Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. |
Nurse: Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: 'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; Wil... |
JULIET: And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. |
Nurse: Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: An I might live to see thee married once, I have my wish. |
LADY CAPULET: Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? |
JULIET: It is an honour that I dream not of. |
Nurse: An honour! were not I thine only nurse, I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. |
LADY CAPULET: Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, Are made already mothers: by my count, I was your mother much upon these years That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. |
Nurse: A man, young lady! lady, such a man As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. |
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