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ROMEO AND JULIET
by William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 01
PERSONS REPRESENTED
Escalus, Prince of Verona.
Paris, a young Nobleman, kinsman to_the Prince.
Montague,}Heads of two Houses at variance with each other.
Capulet, }
An Old Man, Uncle to--Capulet.
Romeo, Son to Montague.
Mercutio, Kinsman to the Prince, and_Friend to Romeo.
Benvolio, Nephew to Montague, and Friend to Romeo.
Tybalt, Nephew to Lady Capulet.
Friar_Lawrence, a Franciscan.
Friar John, of the same Order.
Balthasar, Servant to Romeo.
Sampson, Servant to Capulet.
Gregory, Servant to Capulet.--
Peter, Servant to Juliet's Nurse.
Abraham, Servant to Montague.
An_Apothecary.
Three Musicians.
Chorus.
Page to Paris; another_Page.
An Officer.
Lady Montague, Wife to Montague.
Lady Capulet, Wife to Capulet.--
Juliet, Daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.
Citizens of_Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both
houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
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SCENE. During the greater part of the Play in Verona; once, in
the Fifth Act, at Mantua.--
THE PROLOGUE
[Enter Chorus.]
Chor.
Two_households, both alike in dignity,
In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,--
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood_makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
Whose misadventur'd piteous_overthrows--
Doth with their death bury their parents' strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
And the_continuance of their parents' rage,
Which but their children's end naught could remove,
Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
The which, if you with patient ears attend,--
What here_shall miss, our toil shall strive_to mend.
Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 02
Scene I. A public place.
[Enter Sampson and_Gregory armed with swords and bucklers.]
Sampson.
Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.--
Gregory.
No, for then we should be colliers.
Sampson.
I mean, an we be in choler we'll draw.
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Gregory.
Ay, while you live, draw_your neck out o' the collar.
Sampson.
I strike quickly, being moved.
Gregory.
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.--
Sampson.
A dog of the_house of Montague moves me.
Gregory.
To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
therefore, if thou art moved, thou_runn'st away.--
Sampson.
A dog of that house shall move me to stand:
I will take the wall of any_man or maid of Montague's.
Gregory.
That shows thee a weak--slave; for the weakest goes to the
wall.
Sampson.
True; and therefore women, being_the weaker vessels,
are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men
from the wall and thrust his--maids to the wall.
Gregory.
The quarrel is between our_masters and us their men.
Sampson.
'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant:
when I have fought with the men I will be cruel with the maids,
I will cut off their_heads.
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Gregory.
The heads of the maids?
Sampson.
Ay, the heads of the_maids, or their maidenheads;
take it in what sense thou wilt.
Gregory.
They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sampson.
Me they shall_feel while I am able to stand:
and 'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gregory.
'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst,
thou hadst been poor--John. Draw thy tool;
Here comes_two of the house of Montagues.
Sampson.
My naked weapon is out: quarrel! I will back thee.
Gregory.
How! turn thy_back and run?
Sampson.
Fear me not.--
Gregory.
No, marry; I fear thee!
Sampson.
Let us take the_law of our sides; let them begin.
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Gregory.
I will frown as I pass by; and let them take it as they
list.
Sampson.
Nay, as they dare. I will bite_my thumb at them; which is
disgrace to them if they bear it.--
[Enter Abraham and Balthasar.]
Abraham.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson.
I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abraham.
Do you bite_your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson.
Is the law of our side if I say ay?
Gregory.
No.
Sampson.
No, sir, I do_not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my
thumb, sir.
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Gregory.
Do you quarrel, sir?
Abraham.
Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Sampson.
But if you do, sir, am_for you: I serve as good a man as
you.
Abraham.
No better.
Sampson.
Well, sir.
Gregory.
Say better; here comes one_of my master's kinsmen.
Sampson.
Yes, better, sir.
Abraham.
You lie.
Sampson.
Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
[They fight.]
[Enter Benvolio.]
Benvolio.
Part, fools! put up your swords; you know not what you do.
[Beats down--their swords.]
[Enter Tybalt.]
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Tybalt.
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Benvolio.
I do but keep the peace: put--up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tybalt.
What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward!
[They fight.]
[Enter several of both--Houses, who join the fray; then enter
Citizens with clubs.]
1 Citizen.
Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
[Enter Capulet_in his gown, and Lady Capulet.]
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.
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[Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.]
Montague.
Thou villain Capulet! _Hold me not, let me go.
Lady Montague.
Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.
[Enter Prince, with Attendants.]
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 ground
And hear the--sentence of your moved prince.
Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
By thee, old Capulet, and--Montague,
Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets;
And made Verona's ancient citizens
Cast by their--grave beseeming ornaments,
To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
If ever you disturb our streets again,
Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
For this_time, all the rest depart away:
You, Capulet, shall go along with me;
And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
To know our farther pleasure in this case,
To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
Once more, on_pain of death, all men depart.
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[Exeunt Prince and Attendants; Capulet, Lady Capulet, Tybalt,
Citizens, and Servants.]
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 prepar'd;
Which, as he breath'd defiance to my ears,
He swung about_his head, and cut the winds,
Who, nothing hurt withal, hiss'd him in scorn:
While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
Came more and--more, and fought on part and part,
Till the prince came, who parted either part.
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 covert of the wood:
I, measuring his affections--by my own,
That most are busied when they're--most alone,
Pursu'd my humour, not pursuing his,
And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
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Montague.
Many a morning hath he there been seen,
With tears augmenting the fresh morning's dew,
Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs:
But all so soon as the all_cheering sun
Should in the farthest east begin to draw
The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
Away from light steals home my heavy son,
And private in his chamber pens himself;
Shuts up his windows, locks--fair daylight out
And makes himself an artificial night:
Black and portentous must this humour prove,
Unless good counsel_may the cause remove.
Benvolio.
My noble uncle, do--you know the cause?
Montague.
I neither know it nor can learn of him.
Benvolio.
Have you importun'd 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 the sun.
Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow,
We would as willingly_give cure as know.
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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,
[Exeunt Montague and Lady.]
[Enter Romeo.]
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.
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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 anything, of_nothing first create!
O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
Mis-shapen chaos of well seeming-forms!
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health!
Still_waking sleep, that is not--what it is!
This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
Dost thou not laugh?
Benvolio.
No, coz, I rather_weep.
Romeo.
Good heart, at what?
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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 rais'd--with the fume of sighs;
Being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
What is it else? a madness most discreet,
A choking gall, and a preserving--sweet.
Farewell, my coz.
[Going.]
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 urg'd to one--that is so ill!
In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
Benvolio.
I aim'd so near_when I suppos'd you lov'd.
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Romeo.
A right good markman! 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 th' encounter of assailing eyes,
Nor ope her lap to saint seducing-gold:
O, she's rich in beauty; only poor
That, when she dies, with beauty_dies her store.
Benvolio.
Then she hath sworn that--she will still live chaste?
Romeo.
She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste;
For beauty, starv'd 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 rul'd by me, forget to--think of her.
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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, puts 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 note--
Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
Farewell: thou canst not_teach me to forget.
Benvolio.
I'll pay that doctrine, or else-die in debt.
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 03
Scene II. A Street.
[Enter Capulet, Paris, and Servant.]
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 liv'd 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.
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Capulet.
And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
The earth hath--swallowed 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 an old_accustom'd feast,
Whereto I have invited many a guest,
Such as I love; and you among the store,
One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
At my poor house look to behold this night--
Earth treading-stars that make dark heaven light:
Such comfort as do lusty_young men feel
When well apparell'd April on the heel
Of limping winter treads, even such delight
Among fresh-female buds shall you this night
Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
And like_her most whose merit most shall be:
Which, among view of many, mine, being one,
May stand in number, though in reckoning none.
Come, go with me. Go, sirrah, trudge about--
Through fair Verona; find those persons out
Whose names_are written there, [gives a paper] and to them say,
My house and welcome on their pleasure--stay.
[Exeunt Capulet and Paris].
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
hath here writ. I must to the learned: in--good time!
[Enter Benvolio and Romeo.]
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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 plantain 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 madman is;
Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
Whipp'd and tormented and_God den, good fellow.
Servant.
God gi' go_den. I pray, sir, can you--read?
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Romeo.
Ay, mine own fortune in_my misery.
Servant.
Perhaps you have_learned it without book:
but I pray, can you read--anything 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. [Reads.]
'Signior Martino and his-wife and daughters;
County Anselmo and his beauteous sisters; the
lady_widow of Vitruvio; 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 his cousin Tybalt; Lucio and the
lively_Helena.'
A fair assembly. [Gives back the paper]: whither should they--
come?
Servant.
Up.
Romeo.
Whither?
Servant.
To supper; to our_house.
Romeo.
Whose house?
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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!
[Exit.]
Benvolio.
At this same ancient-feast of Capulet's
Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lov'st;
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.
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Benvolio.
Tut, you saw her--fair, none else being-by,
Herself pois'd 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 splendour of my own.
[Exeunt.]
Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 04
Scene III. Room in Capulet's House.
[Enter Lady Capulet, and Nurse.]
Lady Capulet.
Nurse, where's my--daughter? call her forth to me.
Nurse.
Now, by my maidenhea, at--twelve year--old,
I bade her come.--What, lamb! what ladybird!--
God--forbid! where's this--girl? what, Juliet!
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[Enter 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 knowest 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 teen be it spoken, I have but--four,
She is not fourteen. How long is it now
To Lammas--tide?
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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 since the earthquake now eleven years;
And she was wean'd, I--never shall forget it,
Of all the days of the year, upon that day:--
For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
Sitting in the sun under the dove--house wall;
My lord and you were then at Mantua:
Nay, I do bear a brain:-but, as I said,
When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
To see it tetchy, and fall out with the dug!
Shake, quoth the dove--house: 'twas no need, I trow,
To bid me trudge.
And since that time it is eleven_years;
For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood
She could have run and waddled all about;
For even the day before, she broke her brow:
And then my husband, God--be with his soul!
'A was a merry man, took_up the child:
'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
Thou wilt fall--backward when thou hast more wit;
Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,
The pretty wretch left--crying, and said 'Ay:'
To see now how a jest shall come about!
I warrant, an I_should live a thousand yeas,
I never should forget it; 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;
And, pretty fool, it stinted, and--said 'Ay.'
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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 com'st to age;
Wilt thou not, Jule?' it--stinted, and said 'Ay.'
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 nurs'd:
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.
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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.
Lady Capulet.
Verona's summer hath not_such a flower.
Nurse.
Nay, he's a flower, in faith, a very flower.
Lady Capulet.
What say you? can--you love the gentleman?
This night you shall behold him at our feast;
Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
And find_delight writ there with beauty's--pen;
Examine every married lineament,
And see how_one another lends content;
And what obscur'd in this fair volume lies
Find written in the margent of his--eyes.
This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
To beautify_him, only lacks a cover:
The fish lives in the sea; and 'tis much pride--
For fair without the fair within to hide:
That book in--many's eyes doth share the glory,
That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
So shall you share all that he doth possess,
By having him, making_yourself no less.
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Nurse.
No less! nay, bigger; women--grow by men
Lady Capulet.
Speak briefly, can--you like of Paris' love?
Juliet.
I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
But no more_deep will I endart mine eye
Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
[Enter a Servant.]
Servant.
Madam, the_guests are come, supper served up, you
called, my young lady asked for, the nurse--cursed
in the pantry, and--everything in extremity. I must
hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
Lady Capulet.
We follow--thee. [Exit Servant.]
Juliet, the county stays.
Nurse.
Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy--days.
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 05
Scene IV. A Street.
[Enter Romeo, Mercutio, Benvolio, with--five or six Maskers;
Torch--bearers, and others.]
Romeo.
What, shall this_speech be spoke for our excuse?
Or shall we on without--apology?
Benvolio.
The date is out of such prolixity:
We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
Scaring the ladies like a crow--keeper;
Nor no without--book prologue, faintly spoke
After the prompter, for our entrance:
But, let them measure us by what they will,
We'll measure_them a measure, and be gone.
Romeo.
Give me a torch, I_am not for this ambling;
Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Mercutio.
Nay, gentle Romeo, we must_have you dance.
Romeo.
Not I, believe_me: you have dancing shoes,
With nimble soles; I have a soul of lead
So stakes me to the ground I--cannot move.
Mercutio.
You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
And soar with_them above a common bound.
Romeo.
I am too sore--enpierced with his shaft
To soar with his light feathers; and so_bound,
I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
Under love's--heavy burden do I sink.
Mercutio.
And, to sink in--it, should you burden love;
Too great oppression for a tender thing.
Romeo.
Is love a tender_thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.
Mercutio.
If love be rough with you, be rough with love;--
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
Give me a case to put_my visage in: [Putting on a mask.]
A visard for a visard! what care I
What curious eye doth--quote deformities?
Here are the beetle--brows shall blush for me.
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Benvolio.
Come, knock and_enter; and no sooner in
But every man betake him to his legs.
Romeo.
A torch for me: let wantons, light of heart,
Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels;--
For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase,
I'll be a candle-holder and look on,
The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.--
Mercutio.
Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
Of this_sir--reverence_love, wherein thou stick'st
Up to the ears. Come, we--burn daylight, ho.
Romeo.
Nay, that's not so.
Mercutio.
I mean, sir, in delay
We waste our_lights in vain, like lamps by day.
Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
Five times in that ere once in our five--wits.
Romeo.
And we mean well, in--going to this mask;
But 'tis no wit to go.
Mercutio.
Why, may one ask?
Romeo.
I dreamt a dream to--night.
Mercutio.
And so did I.
Romeo.
Well, what was_yours?
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Mercutio.
That dreamers often lie.
Romeo.
In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
Mercutio.
O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
She is the fairies' midwife; and she_comes
In shape no bigger_than an agate stone
On the fore-finger of an alderman,
Drawn with a team of little--atomies
Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep:
Her waggon spokes_made of long spinners' legs;
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers;--
The traces, of the smallest spider's web;
The collars, of the--moonshine's watery beams;
Her whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film;
Her waggoner, a small grey coated_gnat,
Not half so big as a round little worm
Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid:
Her chariot is an empty--hazel nut,
Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
And in this state she_gallops night by night
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on--court'sies straight;
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees;
O'er ladies' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,--
Because their_breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
And sometime_comes she with a tithe--pig's tail,
Tickling a parson's nose as 'a lies asleep,
Then dreams he_of another benefice:
Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,--
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
Of breaches, ambuscadoes,--Spanish blades,
Of healths five fathom deep; and then anon
Drums in_his ear, at which he starts and wakes;
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or--two,
And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
That plats the manes of horses in the night;
And bakes the--elf locks in foul sluttish hairs,
Which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes:--
This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
That presses them, and learns them first to bear,
Making them_women of good carriage:
This is she,
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Romeo.
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace,--
Thou talk'st of_nothing.
Mercutio.
True, I talk of dreams,
Which--are the children of an idle brain,
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy;
Which is as thin of substance as the air,--
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
Even_now the frozen bosom of the north,
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
Turning his face to the dew dropping--south.
Benvolio.
This wind you_talk of blows us from ourselves:
Supper is done, and we shall come--too late.
Romeo.
I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
Some_consequence, yet hanging in the stars,
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date--
With this night's revels; and expire the term
Of a despised--life, clos'd in my breast,
By some vile forfeit of untimely death:
But He that--hath the steerage of my course
Direct my sail! On, lusty_gentlemen!
Benvolio.
Strike, drum.
[Exeunt.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 06
Chapter 06
Scene V. A Hall in Capulet's House.
[Musicians waiting. Enter Servants.]
1 Servant.
Where's Potpan, that--he helps not to take away?
he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher!
2 Servant.
When good manners--shall lie all in one or two men's
hands, and they unwash'd too, 'tis a foul_thing.
1 Servant.
Away with the join-stools, remove the court-cupboard, look
to the plate: good--thou, save me a piece of marchpane; and as
thou loves me, let the porter let in Susan_Grindstone and Nell.
Antony! and--Potpan!
2 Servant.
Ay, boy, ready.
1 Servant.
You are--looked for and called for, asked for
and sought for in the great_chamber.
2 Servant.
We cannot be here and--there too. Cheerly, boys;
be brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
[They retire behind.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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[Enter Capulet, &c. with the--Guests the Maskers.]
Capulet.
Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes--
Unplagu'd with corns will have a bout with you.
Ah ha, my--mistresses! which of you all
Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, she,
I'll swear hath corns; am I come_near you now?
Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
That I have worn a visard; and could tell
A whispering_tale in a fair lady's ear,
Such as would please; 'tis gone, 'tis--gone, 'tis gone:
You are welcome, gentlemen! Come,_musicians, play.
A hall a--hall! give--room! and foot it, girls.
[Music plays, and they_dance.]
More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.--
Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd for--sport comes well.
Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
For you and I are_past our dancing days;
How long is't now since last yourself and I
Were in a mask?
2 Capulet.
By'r Lady, thirty_years.
Capulet.
What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
'Tis since the nuptial of Lucentio,
Come Pentecost as_quickly as it will,
Some five and twenty--years; and then we_mask'd.
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2 Capulet.
'Tis more, 'tis more: his son is elder, sir;
His son is thirty.--
Capulet.
Will you tell me that?
His son was but a ward two years--ago.
Romeo.
What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand
Of yonder_knight?
Servant.
I know not, sir.
Romeo.
O, she doth--teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's_ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows
As yonder_lady o'er her fellows shows.
The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand--
And, touching_hers, make blessed my rude hand.
Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
For I ne'er saw true beauty_till this night.
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Tybalt.
This, by his voice, should be a--Montague.
Fetch me my rapier,--boy: what, dares the slave
Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
Now, by the stock and_honour of my kin,
To strike him dead I hold it not a sin.
Capulet.
Why, how now,--kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
Tybalt.
Uncle, this is_a Montague, our foe;
A villain, that is hither come in spite,
To scorn at our--solemnity this night.
Capulet.
Young Romeo, is it?
Tybalt.
'Tis he, that_villain, Romeo.
Capulet.
Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone,
He bears him_like a portly gentleman;
And, to say truth, Verona--brags of him
To be a virtuous and well_govern'd youth:
I would not for--the wealth of all the town
Here in my house do him disparagement:--
Therefore be patient, take_no note of him,
It is my will; the which if thou respect,
Show a fair presence and put--off these frowns,
An ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
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Tybalt.
It fits, when--such a villain is a guest:
I'll not endure him.
Capulet.
He shall be endur'd:
What, goodman boy! I--say he shall; go--to;
Am I the master here, or you? go to.
You'll not endure him! God_shall mend my soul,
You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
You will set_cock a hoop! you'll be the man!
Tybalt.
Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
Capulet.
Go to, go to!
You are a saucy boy. Is't so,--indeed?
This trick may chance to scathe you, I--know what:
You must contrary_me! marry, 'tis time.
Well said, my hearts! You--are a princox; go:
Be quiet, or More--light, more light! For--shame!
I'll make you quiet. What! Cheerly, my--hearts.
Tybalt.
Patience perforce with_wilful choler meeting
Makes my flesh tremble--in their different greeting.
I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall,
Now_seeming sweet, convert to bitter gall.--
[Exit.]
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Romeo.
[To Juliet.] If I profane_with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the--gentle fine is this,
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand--
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
Juliet.
Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
Which--mannerly devotion shows in this;
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands_do touch,
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
Romeo.
Have not saints--lips, and holy palmers too?
Juliet.
Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
Romeo.
O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
They pray, grant thou, lest_faith turn to despair.
Juliet.
Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
Romeo.
Then move_not while my prayer's effect I take.
Thus from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd.--
[Kissing her.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Juliet.
Then have_my lips the sin that they have took.
Romeo.
Sin from my_lips? O trespass sweetly urg'd!
Give me my sin again.
Juliet.
You kiss by the book.--
Nurse.
Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
Romeo.
What is her_mother?
Nurse.
Marry, bachelor,
Her_mother is the lady of the house.
And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous:
I nurs'd her daughter that_you talk'd withal;
I tell you, he that can lay hold of her--
Shall have the chinks.
Romeo.
Is--she a Capulet?
O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.--
Benvolio.
Away, be gone; the sport is at the best.
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo.
Ay, so I fear; the_more is my unrest.
Capulet.
Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
We have a trifling_foolish banquet towards.
Is it e'en so? why then, I thank you all;--
I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.
More torches here! Come_on then, let's to bed.
Ah, sirrah [to 2 Capulet], by my fay, it waxes late;
I'll to my_rest.
[Exeunt all but Juliet and Nurse.]
Juliet.
Come hither, nurse. What is_yond gentleman?
Nurse.
The son and heir of old Tiberio.--
Juliet.
What's he that now is going out of door?
Nurse.
Marry, that, I think, be young Petruchio.
Juliet.
What's he that follows_there, that would not dance?
Nurse.
I know not.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Juliet.
Go ask his name: if he_be married,
My grave is like to be my wedding--bed.
Nurse.
His name is_Romeo, and a Montague;
The only son of your great enemy.
Juliet.
My only love_sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known--too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must_love a loathed enemy.
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Nurse.
What's this? What's--this?
Juliet.
A rhyme I learn'd even now
Of one_I danc'd withal.
[One calls within, 'Juliet.']
Nurse.
Anon, anon!
Come, let's away; the--strangers all are gone.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Chorus.]
Chorus.
Now old_desire doth in his deathbed lie,
And young affection gapes to be his heir;
That fair for which--love groan'd for, and would die,
With tender Juliet match'd, is now not_fair.
Now Romeo is belov'd, and loves again,
Alike--bewitched by the charm of looks;
But to his foe suppos'd he must_complain,
And she_steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:
Being held a foe, he may not have--access
To breathe such vows as lovers us'd to swear;
And she as--much in love, her means much less
To meet her new beloved anywhere:
But passion lends them power, time means, to_meet,
Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
[Exit.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 07
ACT-II.
Scene I. An open place adjoining Capulet's Garden.
[Enter Romeo.]
Romeo.
Can I go forward_when my heart is here?
Turn back, dull earth, and find thy--centre out.
[He climbs the wall and leaps down within it.]
[Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.]
Benvolio.
Romeo! my cousin--Romeo!
Mercutio.
He is wise;
And, on my life, hath_stol'n him home to bed.
Benvolio.
He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
Call, good Mercutio.--
Mercutio.
Nay, I'll conjure _too.
Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
Speak but one_rhyme, and I am satisfied;--
Cry but 'Ah me!' pronounce but Love and dove;
Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
One nickname_for her purblind son and heir,
Young auburn Cupid, he that shot so trim--
When King Cophetua lov'd the beggar-maid!
He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
The ape is dead, and I must conjure--him.
I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
By her high_forehead and her scarlet lip,
By her fine foot, straight leg, and quivering--thigh,
And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
That in thy_likeness thou appear to us!
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Benvolio.
An if he hear_thee, thou wilt anger him.
Mercutio.
This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him--
To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle,
Of some--strange nature, letting it there_stand
Till she had laid it, and conjur'd it down;
That were some spite: my invocation
Is fair and--honest, and, in his mistress' name,
I conjure only but to raise up_him.
Benvolio.
Come, he hath_hid himself among these trees,
To be consorted with the humorous night:
Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.--
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, good night. I'll--to my truckle--bed;
This field_bed is too cold for me to sleep:
Come, shall we--go?
Benvolio.
Go then;--for 'tis in vain
To seek him here that means not to be_found.
[Exeunt.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 08
Scene II. Capulet's Garden.
[Enter Romeo.]
Romeo.
He jests at scars that never felt a--wound.
[Juliet appears above at a window.]
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 vestal livery is but sick_and_green,
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my--lady; O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she--were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing: what of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer--it.
I am too_bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do--entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes_were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those--stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright--
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her--hand!
O that I_were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that--cheek!
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Juliet.
Ah 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.
[Aside.] Shall I_hear more, or shall I speak at this?
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 call'd,
Retain that dear_perfection which he--owes
Without that title:_Romeo, doff thy name;
And for that name, which is no part of thee,
Take all--myself.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Romeo.
I take thee at thy word:
Call me but--love, and I'll be new baptiz'd;
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_yet not 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 cam'st 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'erperch 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.--
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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, that first did prompt me to--enquire;
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--furthest sea,
I would adventure for such merchandise.
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Juliet.
Thou knowest 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_swear'st,
Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries,
They say Jove_laughs. O gentle--Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou_thinkest I am too quickly won,
I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou--wilt woo: but else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond;--
And therefore thou mayst think my 'haviour light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those--that have more cunning to be--strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was 'ware,
My true--love passion:--therefore pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark_night hath so discovered.
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?
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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 unadvis'd, 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_we meet.
Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
Come to thy heart--as that within my breast!
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.
Would'st 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!
[Nurse calls within.]
Anon, good nurse! Sweet--Montague, be true.
Stay but a little, I will come again.
[Exit.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 09
Romeo.
O blessed, blessed_night! I am afeard,
Being in night, all this is but a dream,--
Too flattering_sweet to be substantial.
[Enter Juliet above.]
Juliet.
Three words, dear_Romeo, and good night indeed.
If that thy bent of love be honourable,
Thy purpose marriage, send me word tomorrow,--
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.
[Within.] Madam!
Juliet.
I come anon. But if thou meanest not well,--
I do beseech thee,
Nurse.
[Within.] Madam!
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!
[Exit.]
Romeo.
A thousand times_the worse, to want thy light!
Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books;
But love from love, towards school_with heavy looks.
[Retirong slowly.]
[Re-enter Juliet, above.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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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 tomorrow--
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.--
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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 farther than a wanton's_bird;
That 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.
[Exit.]
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.
[Exit.]
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Romeo - Love Poems Sexy Tango
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 10
Scene III. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar_Lawrence with a basket.]
Friar.
The grey ey'd 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:
Non, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
I must up fill this osier cage_of_ours
With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
The earth, that's nature's mother, is her tomb;
What is her--burying gave, that is her womb:
And from her womb children of divers kind
We sucking on her natural--bosom find;
Many for many virtues excellent,
None but_for some, and yet all different.
O, mickle is the powerful grace--that lies
In plants, herbs, stones, and their true qualities:
For naught so vile that on the earth doth live
But to the earth some_special good doth give;
Nor aught so good but, strain'd from that fair use,
Revolts from true birth, stumbling_on abuse:
Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
And vice sometimes by action dignified.
Within the infant rind of this small flower
Poison hath--residence, and medicine power:
For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
Two such opposed kings encamp them still--
In man as well as herbs,--grace and rude will;
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the_canker death eats up that plant.
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[Enter Romeo.]
Romeo.
Good morrow, father!
Friar.
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 sleep doth reign:
Therefore thy earliness doth me_assure
Thou art uprous'd with some distemperature;
Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
Our Romeo hath not been in bed tonight.
Romeo.
That last is true; the sweeter_rest was mine.
Friar.
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.
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.
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Womens Sexual Pleasures & Desires Women's Sexuality
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Friar.
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 combin'd, 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 consent to marry us today.
Friar.
Holy Saint_Francis! what a change is here!
Is Rosaline, that 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 season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun--not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient--ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
If e'er thou--wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? Pronounce this sentence then,
Women may fall, when--there's no strength in men.
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo.
Thou chidd'st me oft for loving_Rosaline.
Friar.
For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
Romeo.
And bad'st me bury_love.
Friar.
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.
O, she knew well
Thy love did read_by rote, that 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.
Wisely, and slow; they_stumble that run fast.
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 11
Scene IV. A Street.
[Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.]
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 to 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?
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Benvolio.
Why, what is Tybalt?
Mercutio.
More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he's 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 first house,--of the first and second cause: ah, the
immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay.--
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 pardonnez-moi's, who stand so
much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old
bench? O, their bons, their bons!
Benvolio.
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!
Mercutio.
Without his roe, like a dried herring.--O 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 gypsy;
Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a gray eye or so,
but not to the purpose,--
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Romeo - Love Poems Sexy Tango
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[Enter Romeo.]
Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your
French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Romeo.
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
Mercutio.
The slip, 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.
Mercutio.
Right.
Romeo.
Why, then is my pump well-flowered.
Mercutio.
Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out
thy pump;that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may
remain, after the wearing, sole singular.
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Romeo.
O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!
Mercutio.
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
Romeo.
Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
Mercutio.
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done; for
thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am
sure, I have in my whole five: was I with you there for the
goose?
Romeo.
Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not
there for the goose.
Mercutio.
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Romeo.
Nay, good goose, bite not.
Mercutio.
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp
sauce.
Romeo.
And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose?
Mercutio.
O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch
narrow to an ell broad!
Romeo.
I stretch it out for that word broad: which added to the
goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
Mercutio.
Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art
thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; not art thou what thou art, by
art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a
great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble
in a hole.
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Hot Sexy Prom Dresses & Lime Green Prom Dresses
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Benvolio.
Stop there, stop there.
Mercutio.
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
Benvolio.
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
Mercutio.
O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: for I was
come to the whole depth of my tale; and meant indeed to occupy
the argument no longer.
Romeo.
Here's goodly gear!
[Enter Nurse and Peter.]
Mercutio.
A sail, a sail, a sail!
Benvolio.
Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
Nurse.
Peter!
Peter.
Anon.
Nurse.
My fan, Peter.
Mercutio.
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face.
Nurse.
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
Mercutio.
God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
Nurse.
Is it good-den?
Mercutio.
'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is
now upon the prick of noon.
Nurse.
Out upon you! what a man are you!
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo.
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
Nurse.
By my troth, it is well said;--for himself to mar, quoth
'a?--Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young
Romeo?
Romeo.
I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you have
found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of
that name, for fault of a worse.
Nurse.
You say well.
Mercutio.
Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely,
wisely.
Nurse.
If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
Benvolio.
She will indite him to some supper.
Mercutio.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
Romeo.
What hast thou found?
Mercutio.
No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is
something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
[Sings.]
An old hare hoar,
And an old hare hoar,
Is very good meat in Lent;
But a hare that is hoar
Is too much for a score
When it hoars ere it be spent.
Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither.
Romeo.
I will follow you.
Mercutio.
Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,--
[singing] lady, lady, lady.
[Exeunt Mercutio, and Benvolio.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 12
Nurse.
Marry, farewell!--I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was
this that was so full of his_ropery?
Romeo.
A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and
will speak more in a minute--than he will stand to in a month.
Nurse.
An 'a speak anything against--me, I'll take him down, an'a
were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot,
I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his
flirt-gills; I am none--of his skains mates. And thou must stand
by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!
Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I had, my_weapon
should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare draw as soon
as another_man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and_the law
on my side.
Nurse.
Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me
quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray_you, sir, a word: and, as I told
you, my young lady bid me_enquire you out; what she bade me say I
will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead
her into a fool's_paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
kind of behaviour, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young;
and, therefore, if you should deal--double with her, truly it were
an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak
dealing.
Romeo.
Nurse, commend me to_thy lady and mistress. I protest unto
thee,
Nurse.--
Good heart, and i' faith I will tell her as much: Lord,
Lord, she will be a joyful woman.--
Romeo.
What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Nurse.
I will tell her, sir, that_you do protest: which, as I
take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.--
Romeo.
Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
This afternoon;
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence'_cell
Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse.--
No, truly, sir; not a penny.
Romeo.
Go to; I say you_shall.
Nurse.
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.--
Romeo.
And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
Within this hour my_man shall be with thee,
And bring thee cords made like a tackled--stair;
Which to_the high top-gallant of my joy
Must be my convoy in the secret night.
Farewell; be--trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:
Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
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Nurse.
Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark_you, sir.
Romeo.
What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Nurse.
Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,--
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
Romeo.
I warrant thee, my_man's as true as steel.
Nurse.
Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady. Lord, Lord!
when 'twas a little prating thing, O, there's a_nobleman in
town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good
soul, had as lief--see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger
her sometimes, and tell her that Paris is the properer man; but
I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks as pale as any clout
in the versal world. Doth not_rosemary and Romeo begin both with
a letter?
Romeo.
Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.--
Nurse.
Ah, mocker! that's the dog's name. R is for the dog: no; I
know it begins with some other letter: and she hath the
prettiest sententious of it, of you--and rosemary, that it would
do you good to hear it.
Romeo.
Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse.
Ay, a thousand_times. [Exit Romeo.] Peter!
Peter.
Anon?
Nurse.
Peter, take my fan, and go before.--
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 13
Scene V. Capulet's Garden.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet.
The clock struck nine_when I did send the nurse;
In half an hour she promis'd to return.
Perchance she cannot meet--him: that's not so.
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than_the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over_lowering hills:
Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
And therefore hath the wind swift Cupid wings.
Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
Of this day's--journey; and from nine till twelve
Is three long hours,--yet she is not come.
Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
She'd be as swift in motion as a ball;
My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
And his to me:
But old folks, many--feign as they were dead;
Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
O God, she comes!
[Enter Nurse and Peter].
O honey nurse, what--news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse.
Peter, stay at_the gate.
[Exit Peter.]
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Juliet.
Now, good sweet nurse, O--Lord, why look'st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me_with so sour a face.
Nurse.
I am aweary, give me leave awhile;
Fie, how my bones ache! what_a jaunt have I had!
Juliet.
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
Nay, come, I pray thee speak; good,--good nurse, speak.
Nurse.
Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
Do you not see_that I am out of breath?
Juliet.
How art_thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
To say to me that thou art out of breath?
The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
Is longer than the--tale thou dost excuse.
Is thy news good or bad? answer to that;
Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
Let me be_satisfied, is't good or bad?
Nurse.
Well, you have_made a simple choice; you know not how to
choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; rhough his face be better than
any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand and a--
foot, and a body,--though they be not to be talked on, yet they
are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, but I'll
warrant him as gentle as a lamb.--Go thy ways, wench; serve God.
What, have--you dined at home?
Juliet.
No, no: but all this--did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Nurse.
Lord, how my head aches! what_a head have I!
It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
My back o' t' other side, O, my--back, my back!
Beshrew your heart for sending me about
To catch my death with jauncing up and down!
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Juliet.
I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.--
Sweet, sweet, sweet_nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Nurse.
Your love says, like an_honest gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome;
And, I warrant, a virtuous, Where--is your mother?
Juliet.
Where is my mother? Why, she is within;
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
'Your love says, like an_honest gentleman,
'Where is your mother?'
Nurse.
O God's lady dear!
Are you so hot? marry,come up, I trow;
Is this the_poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward, do your messages--yourself.
Juliet.
Here's such a coil! come, what_says Romeo?
Nurse.
Have you got leave to go to shrift today?
Juliet.
I have.
Nurse.--
Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell;
There stays a husband to make_you a wife:
Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
Hie you to church; I must_another way,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
I am the drudge, and--toil in your delight;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Juliet.
Hie to high fortune! Honest--nurse, farewell.
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 14
Scene VI. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.]
Friar.
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after hours--with sorrow chide us not!
Romeo.
Amen, amen! but--come what sorrow can,
It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
That one short minute gives me in her sight:
Do thou but close our_hands with holy words,
Then love-devouring death do what he dare,
It is enough I may but call her mine.
Friar.
These violent_delights have violent ends,
And in their triumph die; like fire and powder,
Which, as they--kiss, consume: the sweetest honey
Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite:
Therefore love moderately: long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as_tardy as too slow.
Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
Will ne'er_wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the_gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet.
Good-even to my ghostly_confessor.
Friar.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
Juliet.
As much to him, else is his--thanks too much.
Romeo.
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
Be heap'd like_mine, and that thy skill be more
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
This neighbour air, and let rich--music's tongue
Unfold the imagin'd happiness that both
Receive in either by this dear encounter.
Juliet.
Conceit, more--rich in matter than in words,
Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
They are but beggars that can count--their worth;
But my true love is grown to such excess,
I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
Friar.
Come, come--with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two_in one.
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 15
ACT III.
Scene I. A public Place.
[Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.]
Benvolio.
I pray thee, good--Mercutio, let's retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
For now, these--hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
Mercutio.
Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he--enters the
confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says
'God send--me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second
cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Benvolio.
Am I like such a fellow?
Mercutio.
Come, come, thou_art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in
Italy; and as soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be
moved.
Benvolio.--
And what to?
Mercutio.
Nay, an there--were two such, we should have none shortly, for
one would kill the other. Thou! why, thou wilt quarrel with a
man that hath a hair more or a hair less in his beard--than thou
hast. Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes; what eye but such
an eye_would spy out such a quarrel? Thy head is as full of
quarrels as an egg is full of meat; and yet thy head hath been
beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling. Thou hast quarrelled
with a man for coughing in the street, because he hath--wakened
thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun. Didst thou not fall
out with a tailor_for_wearing his new doublet before Easter? with
another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? and yet thou
wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
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Benvolio.--
An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man should buy
the fee simple of my life for an hour_and a quarter.
Mercutio.
The fee simple! O simple!
Benvolio.
By my head, here come the Capulets.--
Mercutio.
By my heel, I care not.
[Enter Tybalt and others.]
Tybalt.--
Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den:
a word with one of you.
Mercutio.
And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make
it a word and a blow.
Tybalt.
You shall find me apt_enough to that, sir, an you will give
me occasion.
Mercutio.
Could you_not take some occasion without giving?
Tybalt.
Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,
Mercutio.
Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make
minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords: here's my--
fiddlestick; here's_that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!
Benvolio.
We talk here_in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.--
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Mercutio.
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no_man's pleasure, I.
Tybalt.
Well, peace be with you, sir. Here comes my man.--
[Enter Romeo.]
Mercutio.
But I'll be_hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him_man.
Tybalt.
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this,--Thou art a villain.
Romeo.--
Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting. Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see_thou know'st me not.
Tybalt.
Boy, this shall not--excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
Romeo.
I do protest I never injur'd thee;--
But love thee better than thou canst devise
Till--thou shalt know the reason of my love:
And so good Capulet, which name I tender
As dearly as_mine own, be satisfied.
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Mercutio.
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata--carries it away. [Draws.]
Tybalt, you rat catcher, will you walk?
Tybalt.
What wouldst thou have with me?--
Mercutio.
Good king of cats, nothing_but one of your nine lives; that I
mean to make bold withal, and, as you shall use me hereafter,
dry beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of
his pitcher_by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your--ears
ere it be out.
Tybalt.
I am for you. [Drawing.]
Romeo.
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.--
Mercutio.
Come, sir, your passado.
[They fight.]
Romeo.
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage!
Tybalt, Mercutio, the_prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good--Mercutio!
[Exeunt Tybalt with his Partizans.]
Mercutio.
I am hurt;
A plague o' both--your houses! I am sped.
Is he gone, and hath nothing?--
Benvolio.
What, art thou hurt?
Mercutio.
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
Where is my page? Go, --Villain, fetch a surgeon.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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[Exit Page.]
Romeo.
Courage, man; the hurt_cannot be much.
Mercutio.
No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;
but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask for me tomorrow, and you--
shall find me a grave--man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this
world. A plague o' both your houses! Zounds, a dog, a rat, a
mouse, a--cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a
villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! Why--the devil
came you_between us? I was hurt under your arm.
Romeo.
I thought all for the best.
Mercutio.--
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague--o' both your houses!
They have made worms' meat of me:
I have it, and soundly too.Your_houses!
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[Exit Mercutio and Benvolio.]
Romeo.
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,--
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my_behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander, Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman. O sweet--Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.
[Re-enter Benvolio.]
Benvolio.--
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely_here did scorn the earth.
Romeo.
This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins--the woe others must end.
Benvolio.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Romeo.--
Alive in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven respective_lenity,
And fire ey'd fury be my conduct now!
[Re-enter Tybalt.]
Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again
That--late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company.--
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
Tybalt.
Thou, wretched_boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
Romeo.
This shall determine_that.
[They fight; Tybalt falls.]
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Benvolio.
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens_are up, and Tybalt slain.
Stand not amaz'd. The prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be_gone, away!
Romeo.
O, I am fortune's fool!
Benvolio.
Why dost_thou stay?
[Exit Romeo.]
[Enter Citizens, &c.]
1 Citizen.
Which way ran--he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
Benvolio.
There lies that Tybalt.
1 Citizen.
Up, sir, go--with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name obey.
[Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives,
and others.]
Prince.
Where are the vile beginners of this--fray?
Benvolio.
O noble prince. I can discover all
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies_the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
Lady Capulet.
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!--
O prince! O--husband! O, the blood is spill'd
Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood_of ours shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin!--
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Prince.--
Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
Benvolio.
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo, that spoke him fair, bid him bethink
How nice the quarrel_was, and urg'd withal
Your high displeasure. All this, uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
Could not take_truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt, deaf to peace, but that he tilts
With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast;
Who, all as hot, turns deadly point to point,--
And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
Cold death_aside, and with the other sends
It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity--
Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and swifter than his tongue,
His agile arm--beats down their fatal points,
And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose_arm
An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled:
But by and by comes back to Romeo,
Who had but_newly entertain'd revenge,
And to't they go like lightning; for, ere I
Could draw to part_them was stout Tybalt slain;
And as he fell did Romeo turn and fly.
This is the truth, or let Benvolio--die.
Lady Capulet.
He is a kinsman to the Montague,
Affection_makes him false, he speaks not true:
Some twenty of them fought in this black--strife,
And all those twenty could but kill one life.
I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
Romeo slew--Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
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Prince.
Romeo slew--him; he slew Mercutio:
Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
Montague.
Not Romeo, prince; he was--Mercutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law should end,
The life of Tybalt.
Prince.
And for that_offence
Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a bleeding;
But I'll amerce you--with so strong a fine
That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor_tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses,
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence_in haste,
Else, when he is found, that hour is his last.
Bear hence--this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.--
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 16
Scene II. A Room in Capulet's House.
[Enter Juliet.]
Juliet.--
Gallop apace, you fiery footed steeds,
Towards Phoebus' lodging; 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 rude 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 night,
Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
And learn me how_to_lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
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, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon_the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.
Come, gentle night; come, loving, black brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,--
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
O, I have bought the mansion of a love,--
But not possess'd it; and, though I am sold,
Not yet_enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
As is the night before some festival
To an impatient--child that hath new robes,
And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
But Romeo's name speaks_heavenly eloquence.
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[Enter Nurse, with cords.]
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
That Romeo bid thee fetch?--
Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down.]
Juliet.
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!
Juliet.--
Can heaven be so envious?
Nurse.
Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O--Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!--
Juliet.
What devil art thou, that_dost torment me thus?
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but I,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death_darting eye of cockatrice:
I am not I if there be such an I;
Or those eyes shut--that make thee answer I.
If he be slain, say I; or if not, no:
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 bedaub'd in blood,
All in_gore blood; I swounded at the sight.
Juliet.
O, break, my heart! Poor bankrout, break at once!
To prison, eyes; ne'er look on_liberty!
Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
And thou and Romeo_press one heavy bier!
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Nurse.--
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should--live to see thee dead!
Juliet.
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.
Juliet.
O God! Did Romeo's hand--shed Tybalt's blood?
Nurse.
It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
Juliet.
O serpent heart, hid--with a flowering face!
Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!
Dove feather'd--raven! wolvish ravening lamb!
Despised substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned saint, an honourable villain!
O nature, what_hadst thou to do in hell
When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
In mortal paradise of such sweet flesh?
Was ever book containing such vile matter
So fairly bound? O, that deceit should dwell
In such a gorgeous_palace!
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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 vitae.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to_Romeo!
Juliet.
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
Sole monarch of the universal earth.
O, what a beast was I to--chide at him!
Nurse.
Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
Juliet.
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 villain 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,
That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
But O, it presses to my_memory
Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
'Tybalt--is--dead, and Romeo banished.'
That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'
Hath slain ten--thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
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 dead,
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or_both,
Which modern 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?
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Nurse.
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:
Will you go to them? I will_bring you thither.
Juliet.
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 exil'd:
He made you for a highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die--maiden widowed.
Come, cords; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding bed;
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
Nurse.
Hie to your chamber. I'll find Romeo--
To comfort you: I wot well where he is.
Hark--ye, your Romeo will be here at night:
I'll to him; he is hid at Lawrence' cell.
Juliet.
O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,--
And bid him_come to take his last farewell.
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 17
Scene III. Friar Lawrence's cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence.]
Friar.
Romeo, come_forth; come forth, thou fearful man.
Affliction is enanmour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to--calamity.
[Enter Romeo.]
Romeo.
Father, what news? what is the prince's doom
What--sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know--not?
Friar.
Too familiar
Is my dear_son with such sour company:
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
Romeo.
What less than--doomsday is the prince's doom?
Friar.
A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.
Romeo.
Ha, banishment? be merciful, say death;
For exile hath_more terror in his look,
Much more than death; do not say banishment.
Friar.
Hence from Verona art thou banished:--
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
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Romeo.
There is no_world without Verona walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
Hence banished is banish'd from the world,
And world's exile is death, then banished
Is death mis term'd: calling death_banishment,
Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
And smil'st upon the--stroke that murders me.
Friar.
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault--our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part, hath brush'd aside--the law,
And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
This is dear mercy, and thou see'st it not.
Romeo.
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
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,
This may flies do, when I from this must fly.--
And sayest 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?
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Friar.
Thou fond mad man, hear me speak a little,
Romeo.--
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
Friar.
I'll give thee armour to keep off that word;
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.--
Romeo.
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.
Friar.
O, then I see that_madmen have no ears.
Romeo.
How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
Friar.
Let me dispute with_thee of thy estate.
Romeo.
Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
An hour but--married, Tybalt murdered,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure_of_an unmade grave.
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[Knocking within.]
Friar.
Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself.--
Romeo.
Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes.
[Knocking.]
Friar.--
Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;
Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile; Stand up;
[Knocking.]
Run to my_study. By and by! God's will!
What simpleness is this. I come, I come!
[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.--
Friar.
Welcome then.
[Enter Nurse.]
Nurse.
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is my lady's lord,--where's Romeo?
Friar.
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
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Nurse.
O, he is even in my mistress' case,
--Just in her case!
Friar.
O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament!
Nurse.--
Even so lies she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you be a man:
For Juliet's sake, for_her_sake, rise and stand;
Why should you fall into so deep an O?
Romeo.
Nurse!
Nurse.
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, --death's the end of all.
Romeo.
Spakest_thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
Doth not she think me an old murderer,
Now I have stain'd the_childhood of our joy
With blood remov'd but little from her own?
Where_is she? and how doth she/ and what says
My conceal'd lady to our_cancell'd love?
Nurse.
O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
And--now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo--cries,
And then down falls again.
Romeo.
As--if that name,
Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
Murder'd her kinsman. O,--tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that_I_may sack
The hateful mansion.
[Drawing his sword.]
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Friar.--
Hold thy desperate hand:
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art;
Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote--
The unreasonable fury of a beast;
Unseemly_woman in a seeming man!
Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
Thou hast amaz'd me: by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.--
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay_thy lady, too, that lives in thee,
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
Since birth and_heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst--lose.
Fie, fie, thou_sham'st thy shape, thy love, thy wit;
Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
And usest none in that true use indeed
Which should bedeck thy shape, thy_love, thy wit:
Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
Digressing from the valour of a man;
Thy dear--love sworn, but hollow perjury,
Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
Thy wit, that ornament to shape_and love,
Mis-shapen in the conduct of them both,
Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask,
Is set a fire by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd_with thine own defence.
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 slewest Tybalt; there art thou happy too:
The law, that threaten'd death, becomes thy friend,
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 misbehav'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.--
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Nurse.
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.--
Romeo.
Do so, and_bid my sweet prepare to chide.
Nurse.
Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:
Hie you, make_haste, for it grows very late.
[Exit.]
Romeo.
How well my comfort is reviv'd by this!
Friar.--
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.--
Romeo.
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were_a_grief so brief to part with thee:
Farewell.
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 18
Scene IV. A Room in Capulet's House.
[Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.]
Capulet.
Things have_fallen out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had no time to move our--daughter:
Look you, she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I; well, we_were born to die.
'Tis very late; she'll not come down tonight:
I promise you, but for your_company,
I would have been a bed an hour ago.
Paris.
These times of woe afford no tune to woo.
Madam, good night: commend me to your_daughter.
Lady Capulet.
I will, and know her mind early tomorrow;
Tonight_she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Capulet.
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
Of my child's love: I think_she will be rul'd
In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint_her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,
But, soft! what day_is this?
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Paris.
Monday, my lord.
Capulet.
Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
Thursday let it be; a 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 Thursday?
Paris.
My lord, I would that Thursday were_tomorrow.
Capulet.
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 very late
That we--may call it early by and by.
Good night.
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 19
Scene V. An open--Gallery to Juliet's Chamber, overlooking the
Garden.
[Enter Romeo and Juliet.]
Juliet.
Wilt thou be gone? it is not--yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she--sings on yond pomegranate tree:
Believe me, love, it was the_nightingale.
Romeo.
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.
Juliet.
Yond 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 the way to Mantua:
Therefore stay--yet, thou need'st not to be gone.
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Romeo.
Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am--content, so thou wilt have it so.
I'll say yon gray 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 care to stay than will to go.
Come, death, and_welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is't, my soul? let's talk, it is not day.
Juliet.
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:
Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes;
O, now I would they had chang'd voices too!
Since arm from--arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence with hunt's up to the day.
O, now be gone; more light and light it_grows.
Romeo.
More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!
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[Enter Nurse.]
Nurse.
Madam!
Juliet.--
Nurse?
Nurse.
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:
The day is broke; be wary, look about.--
[Exit.]
Juliet.
Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Romeo.
Farewell, farewell! one_kiss, and I'll descend.
[Descends.]
Juliet.
Art thou gone so? my_lord, my love, my friend!
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 I again--behold my Romeo!
Romeo.
Farewell!
I will omit no--opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
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Juliet.
O, think'st thou we shall ever--meet again?
Romeo.
I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet_discourses in our time to come.
Juliet.
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--eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Romeo.
And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
Dry sorrow--drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
[Exit below.]
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Juliet.
O fortune, fortune! all men_call thee fickle:
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd for faith? Be--fickle, fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long
But--send him back.
Lady Capulet.
[Within.] Ho, daughter! are you--up?
Juliet.
Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
Is she not down_so late, or up so early?
What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
[Enter Lady Capulet.]
Lady Capulet.
Why, how now, Juliet?
Juliet.--
Madam, I am not well.
Lady Capulet.
Evermore weeping_for your cousin's death?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
An if thou couldst, thou--couldst not make him live;
Therefore--have done: some grief shows much of love;
But much of grief shows--still some want of wit.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Juliet.
Yet let me weep for such a--feeling loss.
Lady Capulet.
So shall you--feel the loss, but not the friend
Which you weep for.
Juliet.
Feeling so the loss,
I cannot_choose but ever weep the friend.
Lady Capulet.
Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his_death
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
Juliet.
What--villain, madam?
Lady Capulet.
That same villain--Romeo.
Juliet.
Villain and he be many miles asunder.
God pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
And yet no_man like he doth grieve my heart.
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Lady Capulet.
That is because the traitor_murderer lives.
Juliet.
Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands.
Would none but I might--venge my cousin's death!
Lady Capulet.
We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
Where that same--banish'd runagate doth live,
Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram
That he shall soon keep--Tybalt company:
And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
Juliet.
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!
Lady Capulet.
Find thou the means, and--I'll find such a man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
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Juliet.
And joy comes well in such a needy time:
What are they, I beseech_your ladyship?
Lady Capulet.
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.
Juliet.
Madam, in happy--time, what day is that?
Lady Capulet.
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County Paris, at St. Peter's--Church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Juliet.
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!
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Lady Capulet.
Here comes your father: tell him--so yourself,
And see how_he will take it at your hands.
[Enter Capulet and Nurse.]
Capulet.
When the sun sets, the_air doth drizzle dew;
But for the sunset of my brother's son
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 deliver'd to her our decree?--
Lady Capulet.
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were_married to her grave!
Capulet.
Soft! take me--with you, take me with you, wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not_count her bles'd,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So--worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
Juliet.
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.
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Capulet.
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,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next
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 baggage!
You tallow face!
Lady Capulet.
Fie, fie! what, are you_mad?
Juliet.
Good father, I beseech_you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
Capulet.
Hang thee, young_baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what, get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply_not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought_us bles'd
That God had lent 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.--
Capulet.
And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
Good prudence; smatter--with your gossips, go.
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Nurse.
I speak no treason.
Capulet.
O, God ye good en!--
Nurse.
May not one speak?
Capulet.
Peace, you_mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl,
For here we need it--not.
Lady Capulet.
You are too hot.
Capulet.
God's bread! it--makes me mad:
Day, night, hour, time, tide, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her match'd, and having_now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as_they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's heart would wish a man,
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 streets,
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.]
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Juliet.
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.
Lady Capulet.
Talk not to--me, for I'll not speak a word;
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
[Exit.]
Juliet.
O God! O--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 you;
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.--
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Juliet.
Speakest thou this from thy heart?
Nurse.--
And from my soul too;
Or else beshrew them both.
Juliet.
Amen!
Nurse.
What?
Juliet.--
Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in; and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeas'd my father, to Lawrence' cell,
To make confession_and to be absolv'd.
Nurse.
Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.
[Exit.]
Juliet.
Ancient damnation! O most_wicked fiend!
Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise_my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath prais'd him with above compare
So many thousand times? Go, counsellor;
Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
I'll to the friar to know his remedy;
If all else fail, myself_have power to die.
[Exit.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 20
ACT IV.
Scene I. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris.]
Friar.
On Thursday, sir? the time is very--short.
Paris.
My father Capulet will have it so;
And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
Friar.
You_say you do not know the lady's mind:
Uneven is the course; I like it not.
Paris.
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 do 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.
Friar.
[Aside.] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
Look, sir, here comes the lady toward my cell.
[Enter Juliet.]
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Paris.
Happily met, my lady_and my wife!
Juliet.
That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
Paris.
That may be must be, love, on Thursday_next.
Juliet.
What must be shall be.
Friar.
That's a certain text.
Paris.
Come you to make confession to this father?
Juliet.
To answer that, I should confess to--you.
Paris.
Do not deny to him that you love me.
Juliet.
I will confess to you that I love--him.
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Paris.
So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
Juliet.
If I do so, it--will be of more price,
Being spoke behind your back than to your face.
Paris.
Poor soul, thy face is_much abus'd with tears.
Juliet.
The tears have got small victory by that;
For it was bad--enough before their spite.
Paris.
Thou wrong'st it more than tears with that report.
Juliet.
That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
And what I spake, I spake it to my_face.
Paris.
Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
Juliet.
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?
Friar.
My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
Paris.
God shield I should disturb devotion!
Juliet, on_Thursday early will I rouse you:
Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
[Exit.]
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Juliet.
O, shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
Come weep with me; past--hope, past cure, past help!
Friar.
Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
It strains me past the compass of my wits:--
I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
On Thursday next be married to this county.
Juliet.
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,
And with_this knife I'll help it presently.
God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
And ere this hand, by thee--to Romeo's seal'd,
Shall be the label to another deed,
Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
Therefore, out of thy long experienc'd time,
Give me some present--counsel; or, behold,
'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
Shall play_the empire; arbitrating that
Which the commission of thy years and art
Could to no issue of true honour bring.
Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.--
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Friar.
Hold, daughter. I do_spy a kind of hope,
Which craves as desperate an execution
As that is desperate which we would prevent.
If, rather than to marry County Paris
Thou hast the strength of will to slay --thyself,
Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
A thing--like death to chide away this shame,
That cop'st with death himself to scape from it;
And, if thou dar'st, I'll give thee--remedy.
Juliet.
O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
From off the battlements of yonder tower;
Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
Or shut me--nightly in a charnel house,
O'er cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
With reeky shanks and yellow--chapless skulls;
Or bid me go into a new made grave,
And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
Things that, to hear--them told, have made me tremble;
And I will do it without fear or doubt,
To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet--love.
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Friar.
Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
To marry Paris: Wednesday is tomorrow;
Tomorrow night look that--thou lie alone,
Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
Take thou--this vial, being then in bed,
And this distilled liquor drink thou off:
When, presently, through all thy veins shall run
A cold and drowsy--humour; for no pulse
Shall keep his native progress, but surcease:
No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;
The roses in thy lips_and cheeks shall fade
To paly ashes; thy eyes' windows fall,
Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
Each part, depriv'd of supple government,--
Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:
And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
Thou shalt continue two-and-forty hours,
And then awake as_from a pleasant sleep.
Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
Then, as the manner of our country is,
In thy best robes, uncover'd, on the bier,--
Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
Shall_Romeo by my letters know our drift;
And hither shall he come: and he and I
Will watch thy waking, and that very night
Shall Romeo bear thee_hence to Mantua.
And this shall free thee from this present shame,
If no inconstant toy nor--womanish fear
Abate thy valour in the acting it.
Juliet.
Give me, give me! O, tell--not me of fear!
Friar.
Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
In this resolve: I'll send_a friar with speed
To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
Juliet.
Love give me strength! and_strength shall help afford.
Farewell, dear father.
[Exeunt.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 21
Scene II. Hall in Capulet's House.
[Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, Nurse, and Servants.]
Capulet.
So many guests_invite as here are writ.
[Exit first Servant.]
Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning--cooks.
2 Servant.
You shall have none ill, sir; for--I'll try if they can
lick their fingers.
Capulet.
How canst thou--try them so?
2 Servant.
Marry, sir, 'tis an ill_cook that cannot lick his own fingers:
therefore he that cannot lick his fingers goes not with me.
Capulet.
Go, begone.
[Exit second Servant.]
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We shall be much unfurnish'd for this time.
What, is my daughter_gone to Friar Lawrence?
Nurse.
Ay, forsooth.
Capulet.
Well, be may chance to do some good on--her:
A peevish self will'd harlotry it is.
Nurse.
See where she comes_from shrift with merry look.
[Enter Juliet.]
Capulet.
How now, my headstrong! Where have you been_gadding?
Juliet.
Where I have_learn'd me to repent the sin
Of disobedient opposition
To you and your behests; and am_enjoin'd
By holy Lawrence to fall prostrate here,
To beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech_you!
Henceforward I am ever rul'd by you.
Capulet.
Send for the_county; go tell him of this:
I'll have this knot knit up tomorrow_morning.
Juliet.
I met the youthful lord at Lawrence' cell;
And gave him what becomed love I might,
Not stepping o'er the_bounds of modesty.
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Capulet.
Why, I am glad on't; this is well, stand up,
This is as't should be. Let me see the county;
Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
Now, afore God, this_reverend holy friar,
All our whole city is much_bound to him.
Juliet.
Nurse, will you go with me_into my closet,
To help me sort such needful ornaments
As you think fit to furnish me_tomorrow?
Lady Capulet.
No, not--till Thursday; there is time enough.
Capulet.
Go, nurse, go with her. We'll to church tomorrow.
[Exeunt Juliet and Nurse.]
Lady Capulet.
We shall be short--in our provision:
'Tis now near night.
Capulet.
Tush, I will stir about,
And all things--shall be well, I warrant_thee, wife:
Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
I'll not to bed tonight; let me alone;
I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
They are all forth: well, I will walk myself--
To County Paris, to prepare him up
Against tomorrow: my heart is_wondrous light
Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 22
Scene III. Juliet's Chamber.
[Enter Juliet and Nurse.]
Juliet.
Ay, those attires--are best: but, gentle nurse,
I pray thee, leave me to myself tonight;
For I have need of many orisons
To move the heavens to smile upon_my state,
Which, well thou know'st, is cross_and _full of sin.
[Enter Lady Capulet.]
Lady Capulet.
What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
Juliet.--
No, madam; we have cull'd 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 thee to bed, and rest; for--thou hast need.
[Exeunt Lady Capulet and Nurse.]
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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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:
I'll call them back again to comfort me;
Nurse! What should she do here?
My dismal scene I needs must 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.]
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What--if it be a poison, which the friar
Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
Lest in this marriage he should--be dishonour'd,
Because he married me before to Romeo?
I fear it is: and yet methinks it should not,
For he hath still_been tried a holy man:
I will not entertain so bad a thought.
How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
I wake before the--time that Romeo
Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
Shall I not then be stifled in the vault,
To whose foul mouth 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 pack'd;
Where bloody 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 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 kinsman's bone,
As with a club, dash_out my desperate brains?
O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body--
Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!
Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
[Throws herself on the bed.]
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 23
Scene IV. Hall in Capulet's 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 cock hath crow'd,
The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
Look to--the bak'd meats, good Angelica;--
Spare not for cost.
Nurse.
Go, you cot-quean, go,
Get you to bed; faith, you'll be sick tomorrow
For this night's--watching.
Capulet.
No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now
All night for lesser_cause, and ne'er been sick.
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.]
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Capulet.
A jealous hood, a jealous hood! Now, fellow,--
[Enter Servants, with spits, logs and baskets.]
What's there?
1 Servant.
Things for the--cook, sir; but I know not what.
Capulet.
Make haste, make haste. [Exit 1 Servant.]
Sirrah, fetch drier logs:--
Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
2 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 logger head. Good faith, 'tis day.
The county will be here_with music straight,
For so he said he would: I hear--him near.
[Music within.]
Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I--say!
[Re-enter Nurse.]
Go, waken Juliet; go and trim--her up;
I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,
Make haste; the bridegroom_he is come already:
Make haste, I say.
[Exeunt.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 24
Scene V. Juliet's Chamber; Juliet on the bed.
[Enter Nurse.]
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 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;
He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will--it not be?
What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!
I must needs wake you. Lady! lady! lady!--
Alas, alas!--Help, help! My lady's dead!
O, 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, help! Call help.
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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[Enter Capulet.]
Capulet.
For shame, bring Juliet_forth; her lord is come.
Nurse.
She's dead, deceas'd, she's dead; alack_the day!
Lady Capulet
Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
Capulet.
Ha! let me see her: out alas! she's cold;
Her blood is settled, and her_joints are stiff;
Life and these lips have long been separated:
Death lies on her like an untimely frost
Upon the sweetest_flower of all the field.
Accursed time! Unfortunate old man!
Nurse.
O lamentable--day!
Lady Capulet.
O woful time!
Capulet.
Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
Ties up my tongue and will not let me speak.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Paris, with--Musicians.]
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Friar.--
Come, is the 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, all is death's.
Paris.--
Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
And doth it give me such a sight as--this?
Lady Capulet.
Accurs'd, unhappy, wretched, hateful_day!
Most miserable hour that e'er 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,
And cruel death hath catch'd 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!
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Paris.
Beguil'd, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
Most detestable--death, by thee beguil'd,
By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
O love! O life! not life, but love in death!--
Capulet.
Despis'd, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
Uncomfortable time, why_cam'st thou now
To murder, murder our solemnity?
O child! O child! my--soul, and not my child!
Dead art thou, dead! Alack, my child is dead;
And with my child my_joys are buried!
Friar.
Peace, ho, for shame! Confusion's 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 you sought was her promotion;
For 'twas your_heaven she should be advanc'd:
And weep ye now, seeing she is advanc'd
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:
She's not well married that lives married long:
But she's best married that dies married young.
Dry up your tears, and--stick your rosemary
On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
In all her best array bear her to church;
For though fond nature bids us all lament,
Yet nature's tears are_reason's merriment.
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Capulet.--
All things that we ordained festival
Turn from their office to black funeral:
Our instruments 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.
Sir, go you in, and, madam, go with him;
And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare
To follow this fair--corse unto her grave:
The heavens do lower upon you for some ill;
Move them no more--by crossing their high will.
[Exeunt Capulet, Lady Capulet, Paris, and Friar.]
1 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.
[Exit.]
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1 Musician.
Ay, by my troth, the case may be--amended.
[Enter Peter.]
Peter.
Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease,' 'Heart's ease':
O, an you will have_me_live, play 'Heart's ease.'
1 Musician.
Why 'Heart's ease'?
Peter.
O, musicians, because my_heart itself plays 'My heart is
full of woe': O, play me some merry dump to comfort me.
1 Musician.
Not a dump we: 'tis no time to play now.
Peter.
You will not_then?
1 Musician.
No.
Peter.
I will then give it you soundly.
1 Musician.
What will you_give us?
Peter.
No money, on my faith; but the gleek, I will give you the
minstrel.
1 Musician.
Then will I give you the serving creature.
Peter.
Then will I lay the serving creature's dagger on your pate.
I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, I'll fa you: do you note
me?
1 Musician.
An you re us and fa us, you--note us.
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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2 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 put up my iron dagger. Answer me like men:
'When griping grief 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?
1 Musician.
Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
Peter.
Pretty! What say you, Hugh_Rebeck?
2 Musician.
I say 'silver sound' because--musicians sound for silver.
Peter.
Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
3 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 silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress.'
[Exit.]
1 Musician.
What a pestilent knave is this same!--
2 Musician.
Hang him, Jack!--Come, we'll in here; tarry for the
mourners, and stay dinner.--
[Exeunt.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Romeo and Juliet William Shakespeare Deluxe Edition
Chapter 25
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 at hand;
My bosom's lord sits lightly in his_throne;
And all this day an unaccustom'd 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 breath'd such life_with kisses in my lips,
That I reviv'd, and was an emperor.
Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
When but love's 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.
Then she is well, and_nothing can be ill:
Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
And her immortal part with angels lives.
I saw her laid low in her kindred's 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.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Romeo.
Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!
Thou know'st 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 deceiv'd:
Leave me, and do the--thing I bid thee do.
Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
Balthasar.
No, my good--lord.
Romeo.
No matter: get thee gone,
And hire those horses; I'll be with thee--straight.
[Exit Balthasar.]
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Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
Let's see for means; O mischief, thou--art swift
To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
I do remember an apothecary,
And hereabouts--he dwells, which late I noted
In tatter'd 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 stuff'd, 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 of_packthread, and old cakes of roses,
Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a_show.
Noting this penury, to myself I said,
An 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 man must sell_it me.
As I remember, this should be the house:
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is--shut.
What, ho! apothecary!
[Enter Apothecary.]
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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 all the veins
That the life weary--taker mall fall dead;
And that the trunk may be discharg'd of breath
As violently as hasty powder fir'd
Doth hurry from the fatal_cannon's womb.
Apothecary.
Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
Is death to any he that utters--them.
Romeo.
Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness
And fear'st 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 world's 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 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 men's souls,
Doing more murders in this loathsome world
Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell:
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 Juliet's grave; for there must I use--thee.
[Exeunt.]
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Womens Sexual Pleasures & Desires Women's Sexuality
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Chapter 26
Scene II. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar John.]
Friar John.
Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
[Enter Friar Lawrence.]
Friar Lawrence.--
This same should be the 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 the infectious_pestilence did reign,
Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
Friar Lawrence.
Who bare my letter, then, to-Romeo?
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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 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, I'll go and_bring it thee.
[Exit.]
Friar Lawrence.
Now must I to the monument_alone;
Within 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, clos'd in a dead man's tomb!
[Exit.]
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Pride and Prejudice Jane Austen full text
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Chapter 27
Scene III. A churchyard; in it a Monument_belonging to the
Capulets.
[Enter 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 thine ear close to the hollow ground;
So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
But thou shalt hear--it: whistle then to me,
As signal that thou hear'st 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 dust--and stones!
Which with sweet water nightly I will dew;
Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:
The obsequies that I for--thee will keep,
Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
[The Page whistles.]
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The boy gives warning--something doth approach.
What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
To cross my obsequies and true love's 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,
Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof
And do not interrupt me in my_course.
Why I descend_into this bed of death
Is partly to behold my lady's 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 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 friendship. Take thou that:
Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good--fellow.
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Balthasar.
For all this same, I'll hide me--hereabout:
His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
[Retires.]
Romeo.
Thou detestable maw, thou--womb of death,
Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,
Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws--to open,
[Breaking open the door of the monument.]
And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
Paris.
This is that banish'd haughty Montague
That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,
It is supposed, the fair creature died,
And here is come to do some villanous--shame
To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
[Advances.]
Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!
Can vengeance be--pursu'd further than death?
Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee;
Obey, and go with me; for thou must_die.
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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 urging me to fury: O, be gone!
By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
For I come hither--arm'd against myself:
Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,
A madman's mercy--bid thee run away.
Paris.
I do defy thy--conjurations,
And apprehend thee for a felon here.
Romeo.
Wilt thou provoke me? then--have at thee, boy!
[They fight.]
Page.
O lord, they fight! I will go call the--watch.
[Exit.]
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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:
Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!
What said my man, when my betossed soul
Did not attend him as 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 misfortune's book!
I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
A grave? O, no, a lanthorn, slaught'red 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 interr'd.
[Laying Paris in the monument.]
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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
Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!
Death, that hath suck'd_the honey of thy breath,
Hath had no power yet_upon thy beauty:
Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
Is crimson in thy lips--and in thy cheeks,
And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
O, what 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 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, 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!
Here's to my love! [Drinks.] O true apothecary!
Thy drugs are quick. Thus--with a kiss I die.
[Dies.]
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[Enter, at the other end of the Churchyard, Friar Lawrence, with
a lantern, crow, and spade.]
Friar.--
Saint Francis be my speed! how oft tonight
Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?
Balthasar.--
Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
Friar.--
Bliss be upon you! Tell 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 there's my master,
One that you love.--
Friar.--
Who is it?
Balthasar.
Romeo.--
Friar.
How long hath he been there?
Balthasar.
Full half--an hour.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Friar.
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.
Stay then; I'll go alone: fear comes upon me;
O, much I fear some ill--unlucky thing.
Balthasar.
As I did sleep under this yew tree here,
I dreamt my master and another fought,
And that my master_slew him.
Friar.
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 discolour'd by_this place of peace?
[Enters the monument.]
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Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?
And steep'd 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.
I hear some noise. Lady, 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, I'll dispose of thee
Among a sisterhood_of holy nuns:
Stay not to question, for--the watch is coming.
Come, go, good Juliet [noise within], I dare no longer stay.
Juliet.
Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
[Exit Friar Lawrence.]
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What's here? a cup, clos'd in my true love's 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 them,
To make me die with a restorative.
[Kisses him.]
Thy lips are--warm!
1 Watch.
[Within.] Lead, boy: which way?--
Juliet.
Yea, noise? Then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
[Snatching Romeo's dagger.]
This is thy sheath [stabs herself]; there rest, and let me die.--
[Falls on Romeo's body and dies.]
[Enter Watch, with the Page of Paris.]
Page.
This is the place; there, where--the torch doth burn.
1 Watch.
The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:
Go, some of you, whoe'er you--find attach.
[Exeunt some of the Watch.]
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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 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.]
2 Watch.
Here's Romeo's man; we found_him in the churchyard.
1 Watch.
Hold him in safety till the prince come hither.--
[Re-enter others of the Watch with Friar Lawrence.]
3 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.--
1 Watch.
A great suspicion: stay the friar too.--
[Enter the Prince and Attendants.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text
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Prince.
What--misadventure is so early up,
That calls our person from our morning's rest?
[Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and others.]
Capulet.
What should it be, that they so shriek_abroad?
Lady Capulet.
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 our ears?
1 Watch.
Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
Warm and new kill'd.--
Prince.
Search, seek, and know how this foul--murder comes.
1 Watch.
Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's--man,
With instruments upon them fit to open
These dead men's tombs.--
Capulet.
O heaven! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
This dagger hath mista'en, for, lo,--his house
Is empty on the back of Montague,
And it mis-sheathed in my--daughter's bosom!
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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 son--and heir--more early down.
Montague.
Alas, my liege, my wife is dead tonight;
Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd 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_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.--
I am the greatest, able to do least,
Yet 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 excus'd.
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The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Prince.
Then say at once_what thou dost know in this.
Friar.
I will be brief, for my short date of breath
Is not so_long as is a tedious tale.
Romeo, there dead, was husband to that_Juliet;
And she, there_dead, that Romeo's faithful_wife:
I married them; and their stol'n marriage day
Was Tybalt's doomsday, whose untimely--death
Banish'd the new made bridegroom from this city;
For whom, and not for--Tybalt, Juliet pin'd.
You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
Betroth'd, and would have married 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 form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo
That he should_hither come as this dire night,
To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
Being the time--the potion's force should_cease.
But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
Was stay'd by accident; and yesternight
Return'd my letter back. Then all alone
At the prefixed hour of her waking
Came I to take her from her kindred's 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 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 sacrific'd, some hour before his time,
Unto--the rigour of severest law.
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Romeo - Love Poems Sexy Tango
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Prince.--
We still have known thee for a holy man.
Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
Balthasar.--
I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
And then in post he came from Mantua
To this same--place, to this same monument.
This letter he early bid me give his father;
And threaten'd 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 county's page that rais'd the watch?
Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
Boy.--
He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;
And bid me stand 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 friar's words,--
Their course of_love, the tidings of her death:
And here he writes that he did buy a poison
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 punish'd.
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Capulet.
O brother Montague, give me thy hand:
This is my daughter's_jointure, for no more
Can I demand.
Montague.--
But I can give thee more:
For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
That while 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 shall Romeo's by his lady's 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 pardon'd,_and some punished;
For never was a story of more woe
Than this--of Juliet and her Romeo.
[Exeunt.]
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Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte full text | The Lady Of Shalott Alfred Lord Tennyson | An English Woman's Love Letters Delux Edition
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