text stringlengths 1 3.08k |
|---|
MERCUTIO: If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. Romeo, that she were, O, that she were An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; This field-bed... |
BENVOLIO: Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here that means not to be found. |
ROMEO: He jests at scars that never felt a wound. But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vest... |
JULIET: Ay me! |
ROMEO: She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air. |
JULIET: O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet. |
ROMEO: |
JULIET: 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not... |
ROMEO: I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo. |
JULIET: What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night So stumblest on my counsel? |
ROMEO: By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee; Had I it written, I would tear the word. |
JULIET: My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? |
ROMEO: Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. |
JULIET: How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here. |
ROMEO: With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. |
JULIET: If they do see thee, they will murder thee. |
ROMEO: Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. |
JULIET: I would not for the world they saw thee here. |
ROMEO: I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. |
JULIET: By whose direction found'st thou out this place? |
ROMEO: By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise. |
JULIET: Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet if thou sw... |
ROMEO: Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- |
JULIET: O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. |
ROMEO: What shall I swear by? |
JULIET: Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee. |
ROMEO: If my heart's dear love-- |
JULIET: Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next w... |
ROMEO: O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? |
JULIET: What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? |
ROMEO: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. |
JULIET: I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. |
ROMEO: Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? |
JULIET: But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite. I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. Stay but a little, I wi... |
ROMEO: O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. Being in night, all this is but a dream, Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. |
JULIET: Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world. |
Nurse: |
JULIET: I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, I do beseech thee-- |
Nurse: |
JULIET: By and by, I come:-- To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: To-morrow will I send. |
ROMEO: So thrive my soul-- |
JULIET: A thousand times good night! |
ROMEO: A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. |
JULIET: Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, With repetition of my Romeo's name. |
ROMEO: It is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears! |
JULIET: Romeo! |
ROMEO: My dear? |
JULIET: At what o'clock to-morrow Shall I send to thee? |
ROMEO: At the hour of nine. |
JULIET: I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. I have forgot why I did call thee back. |
ROMEO: Let me stand here till thou remember it. |
JULIET: I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remembering how I love thy company. |
ROMEO: And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this. |
JULIET: 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: And yet no further than a wanton's bird; Who lets it hop a little from her hand, Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, And with a silk thread plucks it back again, So loving-jealous of his liberty. |
ROMEO: I would I were thy bird. |
JULIET: Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow. |
ROMEO: Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, I must up-fill this osi... |
ROMEO: Good morrow, father. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: Benedicite! What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? Young son, it argues a distemper'd head So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden s... |
ROMEO: That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? |
ROMEO: With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? |
ROMEO: I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. I have been feasting with mine enemy, Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, That's by me wounded: both our remedies Within thy help and holy physic lies: I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, My intercession likewise steads my foe. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. |
ROMEO: Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; And all combined, save what thou must combine By holy marriage: when and where and how We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, That thou cons... |
FRIAR LAURENCE: Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! How much salt water thrown away in waste, To seaso... |
ROMEO: Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. |
ROMEO: And bad'st me bury love. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: Not in a grave, To lay one in, another out to have. |
ROMEO: I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; The other did not so. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: O, she knew well Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. But come, young waverer, come, go with me, In one respect I'll thy assistant be; For this alliance may so happy prove, To turn your households' rancour to pure love. |
ROMEO: O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. |
FRIAR LAURENCE: Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. |
MERCUTIO: Where the devil should this Romeo be? Came he not home to-night? |
BENVOLIO: Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. |
MERCUTIO: Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. |
BENVOLIO: Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, Hath sent a letter to his father's house. |
MERCUTIO: A challenge, on my life. |
BENVOLIO: Romeo will answer it. |
MERCUTIO: Any man that can write may answer a letter. |
BENVOLIO: Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he dares, being dared. |
MERCUTIO: Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to encounter Tybalt? |
BENVOLIO: Why, what is Tybalt? |
MERCUTIO: More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the very f... |
BENVOLIO: The what? |
MERCUTIO: The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these perdona-mi's, who stand... |
BENVOLIO: Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. |
MERCUTIO: Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey eye or so... |
ROMEO: Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? |
MERCUTIO: The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? |
ROMEO: Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. |
MERCUTIO: That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a man to bow in the hams. |
ROMEO: Meaning, to court'sy. |
MERCUTIO: Thou hast most kindly hit it. |
ROMEO: A most courteous exposition. |
MERCUTIO: Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. |
ROMEO: Pink for flower. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.