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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?

Jul. 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 though 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?

Jul. 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 jaunting up and down!
Jul. I'faith I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me what says my

Nurse. Your love says, like an honest gentle

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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.
Jul. Hie to high fortune!—honest nurse, fare-


Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO. Fri. So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after-hours with sorrow chide us not! Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow


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.

Fri. These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die: like fire and powder, Which, as they kiss, consume. The sweetest


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 gossamers
That idle in the wanton summer air,
And yet not fall: so light is vanity.

Jul. Good even to my ghostly cónfessor.
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us


Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too


Rom. Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy Be heaped 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 imagined happiness that both Receive in either by this dear encounter.

Jul. 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 half my sum of wealth.

Fri. 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.

SCENE I.-A Public Place.

Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants. Ben. 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. Mer. Thou art like one of those 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 it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.

Ben. Am I like such a fellow?

Mer. 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.

Ben. And what to?

Mer. 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 old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

Ben. 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.

Mer. The fee-simple? O simple!

Enter TYBALT and others.

Ben. By my head, here come the Capulets. Mer. By my heel, I care not.

Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to them. Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. Mer. And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow. Tyb. You will find me apt enough to that, sir, if you will give me occasion.

Mer. Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb. Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo,— Mer. 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,


Ben. We talk here in the public haunt of men: Either withdraw into some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart: here all eyes gaze on us.

Mer. Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze:

I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir; here comes

my man.

Mer. But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your


Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him “man.”
Tyb. Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this-Thou art a villain.
Rom. Tybalt, the reason that I have to love

Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
To such a greeting.-Villain am I none;
Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.

Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
Rom. I do protest I never injured 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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Mer. 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!

[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO. Rom. This gentleman, the Prince's near ally, My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt In my behalf: my reputation stained With Tybalt's slander; Tybalt, that an hour Hath been my cousin :-O sweet Juliet, Thy beauty hath made me effeminate, And in my temper softened valour's steel.

Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead:

That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth! Rom. This day's black fate on more days doth depend:

This but begins the woe; others must end.

Re-enter TYBALT.

Ben. Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. Rom. Alive! in triumph! and Mercutio slain! Away to heaven, respective lenity,

And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!--
Now, Tybalt, take the "villain" back again,
That late thou gav'st 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.
Tyb. Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort
him here,
Shalt with him hence.

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Ben. 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 C. Tybalt, my cousin!-O my brother's child!

O Prince, O cousin,-husband, the blood is spilled

Of my dear kinsman !—Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.-
O cousin, cousin!

Prin. Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? Ben. Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;

Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal

Your high displeasure. All this—utteréd

With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bowed

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,

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'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 entertained 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 C. 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.

Prin. Romeo slew him; he slew Mercutio : Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? Mon. Not Romeo, Prince, he was Mercutio's

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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 's found, that hour is his last.-
Bear hence this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.

SCENE II.-A Room in CAPULET'S House.


Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phœbus' lodging: such a wagoner As Phaeton would whip you to the west, And bring in cloudy night immediately.Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, That runaway's eyes may wink, and Romeo Leap to these arms, untalked 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, Played for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: Hood my unmanned 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-browed

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 possessed it; and, though I am sold,
Not yet enjoyed. 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,

Enter Nurse, with cords.

And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.--Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords

That Romeo bade thee fetch?

Nurse. Ay, ay, the cords.

[Throws them down. Jul. 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 killed, he's

Jul. Can heaven be so envious?
Romeo can,

Though heaven cannot.-O Romeo, Romeo!
Whoever would have thought it?-Romeo!
Jul. What devil art thou, that dost torment me

This torture should be roared in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but "Ay,"
And that bare vowel "I" shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I, if there be such an "Ay;"
Or those eyes shut that make thee answer "Ay."
If he be slain, say "Ay;" 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 bedaubed in blood,
All in gore blood!—I swoonéd at the sight.
Jul. 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!
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul. What storm is this, that blows so contrary
Is Romeo slaughtered, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-loved 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 killed him, he is banished. Jul. O God!-did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day! it did. Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring face Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical! Dove-feathered raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! Despiséd substanee of divinest show! Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st; A damnéd 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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