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twg_000000025900 | busy, ho? Need you my help? JULIET. No, madam; we have culld such necessaries As are behoveful for our state tomorrow. So please you, let me now be left alone, And let the nurse this night sit up with you, For I am sure you have your hands full all In this so sudden business. LADY CAPULET. Good night. Get | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025901 | thee to bed and rest, for thou hast need. [_Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse._] JULIET. Farewell. God knows when we shall meet again. I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins That almost freezes up the heat of life. Ill call them back again to comfort me. Nurse!What should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025902 | act alone. Come, vial. What if this mixture do not work at all? Shall I be married then tomorrow morning? No, No! This shall forbid it. Lie thou there. [_Laying down her dagger._] What if it be a poison, which the Friar Subtly hath ministerd to have me dead, Lest in this marriage he should be dishonourd, Because he married | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025903 | me before to Romeo? I fear it is. And yet methinks it should not, For he hath still been tried a holy man. How if, when I am laid into the tomb, I wake before the time that Romeo Come to redeem me? Theres a fearful point! Shall I not then be stifled in the vault, To whose foul mouth | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025904 | no healthsome air breathes in, And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? Or, if I live, is it not very like, The horrible conceit of death and night, Together with the terror of the place, As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, Where for this many hundred years the bones Of all my buried ancestors are packd, Where bloody | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025905 | Tybalt, yet but green in earth, Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, At some hours in the night spirits resort Alack, alack, is it not like that I, So early waking, what with loathsome smells, And shrieks like mandrakes torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad. O, if I wake, shall I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025906 | not be distraught, Environed with all these hideous fears, And madly play with my forefathers joints? And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? And, in this rage, with some great kinsmans bone, As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? O look, methinks I see my cousins ghost Seeking out Romeo that did spit his body Upon a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025907 | rapiers point. Stay, Tybalt, stay! Romeo, Romeo, Romeo, heres drink! I drink to thee. [_Throws herself on the bed._] SCENE IV. Hall in Capulets House. Enter Lady Capulet and Nurse. LADY CAPULET. Hold, take these keys and fetch more spices, Nurse. NURSE. They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. Enter Capulet. CAPULET. Come, stir, stir, stir! The second | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025908 | cock hath crowd, The curfew bell hath rung, tis three oclock. Look to the bakd meats, good Angelica; Spare not for cost. NURSE. Go, you cot-quean, go, Get you to bed; faith, youll be sick tomorrow For this nights watching. CAPULET. No, not a whit. What! I have watchd ere now All night for lesser cause, and neer been sick. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025909 | LADY CAPULET. Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; But I will watch you from such watching now. [_Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse._] CAPULET. A jealous-hood, a jealous-hood! Enter Servants, with spits, logs and baskets. Now, fellow, whats there? FIRST SERVANT. Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. CAPULET. Make haste, make haste. [_Exit First | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025910 | Servant._] Sirrah, fetch drier logs. Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. SECOND SERVANT. I have a head, sir, that will find out logs And never trouble Peter for the matter. [_Exit._] CAPULET. Mass and well said; a merry whoreson, ha. Thou shalt be loggerhead.Good faith, tis day. The County will be here with music straight, For so | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025911 | he said he would. I hear him near. [_Play music._] Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, Nurse, I say! Re-enter Nurse. Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up. Ill go and chat with Paris. Hie, make haste, Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already. Make haste I say. [_Exeunt._] SCENE V. Juliets Chamber; Juliet on the bed. Enter Nurse. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025912 | NURSE. Mistress! What, mistress! Juliet! Fast, I warrant her, she. Why, lamb, why, lady, fie, you slug-abed! Why, love, I say! Madam! Sweetheart! Why, bride! What, not a word? You take your pennyworths now. Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, The County Paris hath set up his rest That you shall rest but little. God forgive | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025913 | me! Marry and amen. How sound is she asleep! I needs must wake her. Madam, madam, madam! Ay, let the County take you in your bed, Hell fright you up, ifaith. Will it not be? What, dressd, and in your clothes, and down again? I must needs wake you. Lady! Lady! Lady! Alas, alas! Help, help! My ladys dead! O, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025914 | well-a-day that ever I was born. Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! My lady! Enter Lady Capulet. LADY CAPULET. What noise is here? NURSE. O lamentable day! LADY CAPULET. What is the matter? NURSE. Look, look! O heavy day! LADY CAPULET. O me, O me! My child, my only life. Revive, look up, or I will die with thee. Help, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025915 | help! Call help. Enter Capulet. CAPULET. For shame, bring Juliet forth, her lord is come. NURSE. Shes dead, deceasd, shes dead; alack the day! LADY CAPULET. Alack the day, shes dead, shes dead, shes dead! CAPULET. Ha! Let me see her. Out alas! Shes cold, Her blood is settled and her joints are stiff. Life and these lips have long | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025916 | been separated. Death lies on her like an untimely frost Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. NURSE. O lamentable day! LADY CAPULET. O woful time! CAPULET. Death, that hath taen her hence to make me wail, Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak. Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris with Musicians. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Come, is the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025917 | bride ready to go to church? CAPULET. Ready to go, but never to return. O son, the night before thy wedding day Hath death lain with thy bride. There she lies, Flower as she was, deflowered by him. Death is my son-in-law, death is my heir; My daughter he hath wedded. I will die And leave him all; life, living, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025918 | all is deaths. PARIS. Have I thought long to see this mornings face, And doth it give me such a sight as this? LADY CAPULET. Accursd, unhappy, wretched, hateful day. Most miserable hour that eer time saw In lasting labour of his pilgrimage. But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, But one thing to rejoice and solace in, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025919 | And cruel death hath catchd it from my sight. NURSE. O woe! O woeful, woeful, woeful day. Most lamentable day, most woeful day That ever, ever, I did yet behold! O day, O day, O day, O hateful day. Never was seen so black a day as this. O woeful day, O woeful day. PARIS. Beguild, divorced, wronged, spited, slain. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025920 | Most detestable death, by thee beguild, By cruel, cruel thee quite overthrown. O love! O life! Not life, but love in death! CAPULET. Despisd, distressed, hated, martyrd, killd. Uncomfortable time, why camst thou now To murder, murder our solemnity? O child! O child! My soul, and not my child, Dead art thou. Alack, my child is dead, And with my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025921 | child my joys are buried. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Peace, ho, for shame. Confusions cure lives not In these confusions. Heaven and yourself Had part in this fair maid, now heaven hath all, And all the better is it for the maid. Your part in her you could not keep from death, But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. The most | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025922 | you sought was her promotion, For twas your heaven she should be advancd, And weep ye now, seeing she is advancd Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? O, in this love, you love your child so ill That you run mad, seeing that she is well. Shes not well married that lives married long, But shes best married | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025923 | that dies married young. Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse, and, as the custom is, And in her best array bear her to church; For though fond nature bids us all lament, Yet natures tears are reasons merriment. CAPULET. All things that we ordained festival Turn from their office to black funeral: Our instruments | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025924 | to melancholy bells, Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change; Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, And all things change them to the contrary. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him, And go, Sir Paris, everyone prepare To follow this fair corse unto her grave. The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025925 | heavens do lower upon you for some ill; Move them no more by crossing their high will. [_Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris and Friar._] FIRST MUSICIAN. Faith, we may put up our pipes and be gone. NURSE. Honest good fellows, ah, put up, put up, For well you know this is a pitiful case. FIRST MUSICIAN. Ay, by my troth, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025926 | the case may be amended. [_Exit Nurse._] Enter Peter. PETER. Musicians, O, musicians, Hearts ease, Hearts ease, O, and you will have me live, play Hearts ease. FIRST MUSICIAN. Why Hearts ease? PETER. O musicians, because my heart itself plays My heart is full. O play me some merry dump to comfort me. FIRST MUSICIAN. Not a dump we, tis | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025927 | no time to play now. PETER. You will not then? FIRST MUSICIAN. No. PETER. I will then give it you soundly. FIRST MUSICIAN. What will you give us? PETER. No money, on my faith, but the gleek! I will give you the minstrel. FIRST MUSICIAN. Then will I give you the serving-creature. PETER. Then will I lay the serving-creatures dagger | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025928 | on your pate. I will carry no crotchets. Ill re you, Ill fa you. Do you note me? FIRST MUSICIAN. And you re us and fa us, you note us. SECOND MUSICIAN. Pray you put up your dagger, and put out your wit. PETER. Then have at you with my wit. I will dry-beat you with an iron wit, and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025929 | put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men. When griping griefs the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound Why silver sound? Why music with her silver sound? What say you, Simon Catling? FIRST MUSICIAN. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. PETER. Prates. What say you, Hugh Rebeck? SECOND | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025930 | MUSICIAN. I say silver sound because musicians sound for silver. PETER. Prates too! What say you, James Soundpost? THIRD MUSICIAN. Faith, I know not what to say. PETER. O, I cry you mercy, you are the singer. I will say for you. It is music with her silver sound because musicians have no gold for sounding. Then music with her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025931 | silver sound With speedy help doth lend redress. [_Exit._] FIRST MUSICIAN. What a pestilent knave is this same! SECOND MUSICIAN. Hang him, Jack. Come, well in here, tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner. [_Exeunt._] ACT V SCENE I. Mantua. A Street. Enter Romeo. ROMEO. If I may trust the flattering eye of sleep, My dreams presage some joyful news | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025932 | at hand. My bosoms lord sits lightly in his throne; And all this day an unaccustomd spirit Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. I dreamt my lady came and found me dead, Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave to think! And breathd such life with kisses in my lips, That I revivd, and was an emperor. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025933 | Ah me, how sweet is love itself possessd, When but loves shadows are so rich in joy. Enter Balthasar. News from Verona! How now, Balthasar? Dost thou not bring me letters from the Friar? How doth my lady? Is my father well? How fares my Juliet? That I ask again; For nothing can be ill if she be well. BALTHASAR. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025934 | Then she is well, and nothing can be ill. Her body sleeps in Capels monument, And her immortal part with angels lives. I saw her laid low in her kindreds vault, And presently took post to tell it you. O pardon me for bringing these ill news, Since you did leave it for my office, sir. ROMEO. Is it even | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025935 | so? Then I defy you, stars! Thou knowst my lodging. Get me ink and paper, And hire post-horses. I will hence tonight. BALTHASAR. I do beseech you sir, have patience. Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. ROMEO. Tush, thou art deceivd. Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Hast thou no letters | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025936 | to me from the Friar? BALTHASAR. No, my good lord. ROMEO. No matter. Get thee gone, And hire those horses. Ill be with thee straight. [_Exit Balthasar._] Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee tonight. Lets see for means. O mischief thou art swift To enter in the thoughts of desperate men. I do remember an apothecary, And hereabouts he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025937 | dwells,which late I noted In tatterd weeds, with overwhelming brows, Culling of simples, meagre were his looks, Sharp misery had worn him to the bones; And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, An alligator stuffd, and other skins Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves A beggarly account of empty boxes, Green earthen pots, bladders, and musty seeds, Remnants | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025938 | of packthread, and old cakes of roses Were thinly scatterd, to make up a show. Noting this penury, to myself I said, And if a man did need a poison now, Whose sale is present death in Mantua, Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him. O, this same thought did but forerun my need, And this same needy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025939 | man must sell it me. As I remember, this should be the house. Being holiday, the beggars shop is shut. What, ho! Apothecary! Enter Apothecary. APOTHECARY. Who calls so loud? ROMEO. Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor. Hold, there is forty ducats. Let me have A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear As will disperse itself through | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025940 | all the veins, That the life-weary taker may fall dead, And that the trunk may be dischargd of breath As violently as hasty powder fird Doth hurry from the fatal cannons womb. APOTHECARY. Such mortal drugs I have, but Mantuas law Is death to any he that utters them. ROMEO. Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fearst | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025941 | to die? Famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back. The world is not thy friend, nor the worlds law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it and take this. APOTHECARY. My poverty, but not my will consents. ROMEO. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025942 | pay thy poverty, and not thy will. APOTHECARY. Put this in any liquid thing you will And drink it off; and, if you had the strength Of twenty men, it would despatch you straight. ROMEO. There is thy gold, worse poison to mens souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025943 | I sell thee poison, thou hast sold me none. Farewell, buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliets grave, for there must I use thee. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Friar Lawrences Cell. Enter Friar John. FRIAR JOHN. Holy Franciscan Friar! Brother, ho! Enter Friar Lawrence. FRIAR LAWRENCE. This same should be the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025944 | voice of Friar John. Welcome from Mantua. What says Romeo? Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. FRIAR JOHN. Going to find a barefoot brother out, One of our order, to associate me, Here in this city visiting the sick, And finding him, the searchers of the town, Suspecting that we both were in a house Where | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025945 | the infectious pestilence did reign, Seald up the doors, and would not let us forth, So that my speed to Mantua there was stayd. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Who bare my letter then to Romeo? FRIAR JOHN. I could not send it,here it is again, Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, So fearful were they of infection. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Unhappy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025946 | fortune! By my brotherhood, The letter was not nice, but full of charge, Of dear import, and the neglecting it May do much danger. Friar John, go hence, Get me an iron crow and bring it straight Unto my cell. FRIAR JOHN. Brother, Ill go and bring it thee. [_Exit._] FRIAR LAWRENCE. Now must I to the monument alone. Within | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025947 | this three hours will fair Juliet wake. She will beshrew me much that Romeo Hath had no notice of these accidents; But I will write again to Mantua, And keep her at my cell till Romeo come. Poor living corse, closd in a dead mans tomb. [_Exit._] SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a Monument belonging to the Capulets. Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025948 | Paris, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch. PARIS. Give me thy torch, boy. Hence and stand aloof. Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. Under yond yew tree lay thee all along, Holding thy ear close to the hollow ground; So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025949 | graves, But thou shalt hear it. Whistle then to me, As signal that thou hearst something approach. Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. PAGE. [_Aside._] I am almost afraid to stand alone Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. [_Retires._] PARIS. Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew. O woe, thy canopy is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025950 | dust and stones, Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, Or wanting that, with tears distilld by moans. The obsequies that I for thee will keep, Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. [_The Page whistles._] The boy gives warning something doth approach. What cursed foot wanders this way tonight, To cross my obsequies and true loves | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025951 | rite? What, with a torch! Muffle me, night, awhile. [_Retires._] Enter Romeo and Balthasar with a torch, mattock, &c. ROMEO. Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. Hold, take this letter; early in the morning See thou deliver it to my lord and father. Give me the light; upon thy life I charge thee, Whateer thou hearst or seest, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025952 | stand all aloof And do not interrupt me in my course. Why I descend into this bed of death Is partly to behold my ladys face, But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger A precious ring, a ring that I must use In dear employment. Therefore hence, be gone. But if thou jealous dost return to pry In | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025953 | what I further shall intend to do, By heaven I will tear thee joint by joint, And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs. The time and my intents are savage-wild; More fierce and more inexorable far Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. BALTHASAR. I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. ROMEO. So shalt thou show me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025954 | friendship. Take thou that. Live, and be prosperous, and farewell, good fellow. BALTHASAR. For all this same, Ill hide me hereabout. His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. [_Retires_] ROMEO. Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, Gorgd with the dearest morsel of the earth, Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, [_Breaking open the door of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025955 | the monument._] And in despite, Ill cram thee with more food. PARIS. This is that banishd haughty Montague That murderd my loves cousin,with which grief, It is supposed, the fair creature died, And here is come to do some villainous shame To the dead bodies. I will apprehend him. [_Advances._] Stop thy unhallowd toil, vile Montague. Can vengeance be pursud | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025956 | further than death? Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee. Obey, and go with me, for thou must die. ROMEO. I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man. Fly hence and leave me. Think upon these gone; Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, Put not another sin upon my head By | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025957 | urging me to fury. O be gone. By heaven I love thee better than myself; For I come hither armd against myself. Stay not, be gone, live, and hereafter say, A madmans mercy bid thee run away. PARIS. I do defy thy conjuration, And apprehend thee for a felon here. ROMEO. Wilt thou provoke me? Then have at thee, boy! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025958 | [_They fight._] PAGE. O lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. [_Exit._] PARIS. O, I am slain! [_Falls._] If thou be merciful, Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. [_Dies._] ROMEO. In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. Mercutios kinsman, noble County Paris! What said my man, when my betossed soul Did not attend him as | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025959 | we rode? I think He told me Paris should have married Juliet. Said he not so? Or did I dream it so? Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, One writ with me in sour misfortunes book. Ill bury thee in a triumphant grave. A grave? O no, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025960 | a lantern, slaughtred youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light. Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interrd. [_Laying Paris in the monument._] How oft when men are at the point of death Have they been merry! Which their keepers call A lightning before death. O, how may I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025961 | Call this a lightning? O my love, my wife, Death that hath suckd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty. Thou art not conquerd. Beautys ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And deaths pale flag is not advanced there. Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? O, what | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025962 | more favour can I do to thee Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain To sunder his that was thine enemy? Forgive me, cousin. Ah, dear Juliet, Why art thou yet so fair? Shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous; And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025963 | fear of that I still will stay with thee, And never from this palace of dim night Depart again. Here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chambermaids. O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest; And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last. Arms, take your last embrace! And, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025964 | lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death. Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide. Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark. Heres to my love! [_Drinks._] O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. [_Dies._] Enter, at | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025965 | the other end of the Churchyard, Friar Lawrence, with a lantern, crow, and spade. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Saint Francis be my speed. How oft tonight Have my old feet stumbled at graves? Whos there? Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead? BALTHASAR. Heres one, a friend, and one that knows you well. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Bliss be upon you. Tell | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025966 | me, good my friend, What torch is yond that vainly lends his light To grubs and eyeless skulls? As I discern, It burneth in the Capels monument. BALTHASAR. It doth so, holy sir, and theres my master, One that you love. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Who is it? BALTHASAR. Romeo. FRIAR LAWRENCE. How long hath he been there? BALTHASAR. Full half an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025967 | hour. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Go with me to the vault. BALTHASAR. I dare not, sir; My master knows not but I am gone hence, And fearfully did menace me with death If I did stay to look on his intents. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Stay then, Ill go alone. Fear comes upon me. O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. BALTHASAR. As | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025968 | I did sleep under this yew tree here, I dreamt my master and another fought, And that my master slew him. FRIAR LAWRENCE. Romeo! [_Advances._] Alack, alack, what blood is this which stains The stony entrance of this sepulchre? What mean these masterless and gory swords To lie discolourd by this place of peace? [_Enters the monument._] Romeo! O, pale! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025969 | Who else? What, Paris too? And steepd in blood? Ah what an unkind hour Is guilty of this lamentable chance? The lady stirs. [_Juliet wakes and stirs._] JULIET. O comfortable Friar, where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo? [_Noise within._] FRIAR LAWRENCE. I hear some noise. Lady, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025970 | come from that nest Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep. A greater power than we can contradict Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; And Paris too. Come, Ill dispose of thee Among a sisterhood of holy nuns. Stay not to question, for the watch is coming. Come, go, good Juliet. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025971 | dare no longer stay. JULIET. Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. [_Exit Friar Lawrence._] Whats here? A cup closd in my true loves hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. O churl. Drink all, and left no friendly drop To help me after? I will kiss thy lips. Haply some poison yet doth hang on | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025972 | them, To make me die with a restorative. [_Kisses him._] Thy lips are warm! FIRST WATCH. [_Within._] Lead, boy. Which way? JULIET. Yea, noise? Then Ill be brief. O happy dagger. [_Snatching Romeos dagger._] This is thy sheath. [_stabs herself_] There rest, and let me die. [_Falls on Romeos body and dies._] Enter Watch with the Page of Paris. PAGE. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025973 | This is the place. There, where the torch doth burn. FIRST WATCH. The ground is bloody. Search about the churchyard. Go, some of you, whoeer you find attach. [_Exeunt some of the Watch._] Pitiful sight! Here lies the County slain, And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, Who here hath lain this two days buried. Go tell the Prince; run | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025974 | to the Capulets. Raise up the Montagues, some others search. [_Exeunt others of the Watch._] We see the ground whereon these woes do lie, But the true ground of all these piteous woes We cannot without circumstance descry. Re-enter some of the Watch with Balthasar. SECOND WATCH. Heres Romeos man. We found him in the churchyard. FIRST WATCH. Hold him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025975 | in safety till the Prince come hither. Re-enter others of the Watch with Friar Lawrence. THIRD WATCH. Here is a Friar that trembles, sighs, and weeps. We took this mattock and this spade from him As he was coming from this churchyard side. FIRST WATCH. A great suspicion. Stay the Friar too. Enter the Prince and Attendants. PRINCE. What misadventure | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025976 | is so early up, That calls our person from our mornings rest? Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet and others. CAPULET. What should it be that they so shriek abroad? LADY CAPULET. O the people in the street cry Romeo, Some Juliet, and some Paris, and all run With open outcry toward our monument. PRINCE. What fear is this which startles in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025977 | our ears? FIRST WATCH. Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain, And Romeo dead, and Juliet, dead before, Warm and new killd. PRINCE. Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. FIRST WATCH. Here is a Friar, and slaughterd Romeos man, With instruments upon them fit to open These dead mens tombs. CAPULET. O heaven! O wife, look how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025978 | our daughter bleeds! This dagger hath mistaen, for lo, his house Is empty on the back of Montague, And it mis-sheathed in my daughters bosom. LADY CAPULET. O me! This sight of death is as a bell That warns my old age to a sepulchre. Enter Montague and others. PRINCE. Come, Montague, for thou art early up, To see thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025979 | son and heir more early down. MONTAGUE. Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight. Grief of my sons exile hath stoppd her breath. What further woe conspires against mine age? PRINCE. Look, and thou shalt see. MONTAGUE. O thou untaught! What manners is in this, To press before thy father to a grave? PRINCE. Seal up the mouth of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025980 | outrage for a while, Till we can clear these ambiguities, And know their spring, their head, their true descent, And then will I be general of your woes, And lead you even to death. Meantime forbear, And let mischance be slave to patience. Bring forth the parties of suspicion. FRIAR LAWRENCE. I am the greatest, able to do least, Yet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025981 | most suspected, as the time and place Doth make against me, of this direful murder. And here I stand, both to impeach and purge Myself condemned and myself excusd. PRINCE. Then say at once what thou dost know in this. FRIAR LAWRENCE. I will be brief, for my short date of breath Is not so long as is a tedious | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025982 | tale. Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet, And she, there dead, that Romeos faithful wife. I married them; and their stoln marriage day Was Tybalts doomsday, whose untimely death Banishd the new-made bridegroom from this city; For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pind. You, to remove that siege of grief from her, Betrothd, and would have married | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025983 | her perforce To County Paris. Then comes she to me, And with wild looks, bid me devise some means To rid her from this second marriage, Or in my cell there would she kill herself. Then gave I her, so tutored by my art, A sleeping potion, which so took effect As I intended, for it wrought on her The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025984 | form of death. Meantime I writ to Romeo That he should hither come as this dire night To help to take her from her borrowd grave, Being the time the potions force should cease. But he which bore my letter, Friar John, Was stayd by accident; and yesternight Returnd my letter back. Then all alone At the prefixed hour of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025985 | her waking Came I to take her from her kindreds vault, Meaning to keep her closely at my cell Till I conveniently could send to Romeo. But when I came, some minute ere the time Of her awaking, here untimely lay The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. She wakes; and I entreated her come forth And bear this work | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025986 | of heaven with patience. But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; And she, too desperate, would not go with me, But, as it seems, did violence on herself. All this I know; and to the marriage Her Nurse is privy. And if ought in this Miscarried by my fault, let my old life Be sacrificd, some hour | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025987 | before his time, Unto the rigour of severest law. PRINCE. We still have known thee for a holy man. Wheres Romeos man? What can he say to this? BALTHASAR. I brought my master news of Juliets death, And then in post he came from Mantua To this same place, to this same monument. This letter he early bid me give | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025988 | his father, And threatend me with death, going in the vault, If I departed not, and left him there. PRINCE. Give me the letter, I will look on it. Where is the Countys Page that raisd the watch? Sirrah, what made your master in this place? PAGE. He came with flowers to strew his ladys grave, And bid me stand | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025989 | aloof, and so I did. Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb, And by and by my master drew on him, And then I ran away to call the watch. PRINCE. This letter doth make good the Friars words, Their course of love, the tidings of her death. And here he writes that he did buy a poison | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025990 | Of a poor pothecary, and therewithal Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. Where be these enemies? Capulet, Montague, See what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love! And I, for winking at your discords too, Have lost a brace of kinsmen. All are punishd. CAPULET. O | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025991 | brother Montague, give me thy hand. This is my daughters jointure, for no more Can I demand. MONTAGUE. But I can give thee more, For I will raise her statue in pure gold, That whiles Verona by that name is known, There shall no figure at such rate be set As that of true and faithful Juliet. CAPULET. As rich | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025992 | shall Romeos by his ladys lie, Poor sacrifices of our enmity. PRINCE. A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun for sorrow will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things. Some shall be pardond, and some punished, For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025993 | Romeo. [_Exeunt._] THE TAMING OF THE SHREW Contents INDUCTION Scene I. Before an alehouse on a heath. Scene II. A bedchamber in the Lords house. ACT I Scene I. Padua. A public place. Scene II. Padua. Before Hortensios house. ACT II Scene I. Padua. A room in Baptistas house. ACT III Scene I. Padua. A room in Baptistas house. Scene | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025994 | II. The same. Before Baptistas house. ACT IV Scene I. A hall in Petruchios country house. Scene II. Padua. Before Baptistas house. Scene III. A room in Petruchios house. Scene IV. Before Baptistas house. Scene V. A public road. ACT V Scene I. Padua. Before Lucentios house. Scene II. A room in Lucentios house. Dramatis Person Persons in the Induction | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025995 | A LORD CHRISTOPHER SLY, a tinker HOSTESS PAGE PLAYERS HUNTSMEN SERVANTS BAPTISTA MINOLA, a rich gentleman of Padua VINCENTIO, an old gentleman of Pisa LUCENTIO, son to Vincentio; in love with Bianca PETRUCHIO, a gentleman of Verona; suitor to Katherina Suitors to Bianca GREMIO HORTENSIO Servants to Lucentio TRANIO BIONDELLO Servants to Petruchio GRUMIO CURTIS PEDANT, set up to personate | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025996 | Vincentio Daughters to Baptista KATHERINA, the shrew BIANCA WIDOW Tailor, Haberdasher, and Servants attending on Baptista and Petruchio SCENE: Sometimes in Padua, and sometimes in Petruchios house in the country. INDUCTION SCENE I. Before an alehouse on a heath. Enter Hostess and Sly SLY. Ill pheeze you, in faith. HOSTESS. A pair of stocks, you rogue! SLY. Yare a baggage; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025997 | the Slys are no rogues; look in the chronicles: we came in with Richard Conqueror. Therefore, _paucas pallabris_; let the world slide. Sessa! HOSTESS. You will not pay for the glasses you have burst? SLY. No, not a denier. Go by, Saint Jeronimy, go to thy cold bed and warm thee. HOSTESS. I know my remedy; I must go fetch | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025998 | the third-borough. [_Exit_] SLY. Third, or fourth, or fifth borough, Ill answer him by law. Ill not budge an inch, boy: let him come, and kindly. [_Lies down on the ground, and falls asleep._] Horns winded. Enter a Lord from hunting, with Huntsmen and Servants. LORD. Huntsman, I charge thee, tender well my hounds; Brach Merriman, the poor cur is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000025999 | embossd, And couple Clowder with the deep-mouthd brach. Sawst thou not, boy, how Silver made it good At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault? I would not lose the dog for twenty pound. FIRST HUNTSMAN. Why, Bellman is as good as he, my lord; He cried upon it at the merest loss, And twice today pickd out the dullest scent; | 60 | gutenberg |
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