Ben.
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:
The day is hot, the Capulets ^note abroad,
And, if ^note we meet, we shall not 'scape a brawl;
For now these hot days is the mad blood stirring ^note.

Mer.

Thou art like one of those ^note 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 ^note second cup draws it ^note 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 ^note?

Mer.

Nay, an ^note 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 ^note quarrelling!

Ben.

An ^note 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!

Ben.

By my head, here come the Capulets ^note.

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? ^note couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.

Tyb.

You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an ^note you will ^note give me occasion.

Mer.

Could you not take some occasion without giving?

Tyb.

Mercutio, thou consort'st ^note with Romeo,— ^note

Mer.

Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an ^note thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords:

here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you ^notedance. 'Zounds, ^note consort!

Ben.
We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
Or ^note 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 hang'd, sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry, go before ^note to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.

Tyb.
Romeo, the love ^note I bear thee can afford
No better term than this,—thou art a villain.

Rom.
Tybalt, the reason that ^note I have to love thee
Doth much excuse ^note the appertaining rage
To such a greeting: villain am I none ^note;
Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st ^note me not.

Tyb.
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries ^note
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.

Rom.
I do protest, I never injured ^note thee,
But love ^note thee better than thou canst devise ^note
Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
And so, good Capulet,—which name I tender
As dearly as mine ^note own,—be satisfied.

Mer.
O calm, dishonourable, ^note vile submission!
Alla stoccata ^note carries it ^note away. ^note [Draws. ^note

Tybalt, you rat-catcher, ^note will ^note you walk?

Tyb.

What wouldst ^note thou have with me?

Mer.

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, ^note dry-beat ^note the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher ^note by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

Tyb.

I am for you.

Rom.

Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.

Mer.

Come, sir, your passado.

Rom.
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! ^note
Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
Forbid this ^note bandying in Verona ^note streets:
Hold, Tybalt! ^note good Mercutio! ^note [Tybalt ^note under Romeo's arm stabs Mercutio and flies with his followers.

Mer.
I am hurt;
A plague o' both your ^note houses! I am sped:
Is he gone, and hath nothing?

Ben.
What, art thou hurt?

Mer.
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.

Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. [Exit Page. ^note

Rom.
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

Mer.

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 ^note your houses! 'Zounds ^note, 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 ^note came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.

Rom.

I thought all for the best.

Mer.
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. A plague o' both ^note your houses!
They have made worms' meat of me: I have it ^note,
And soundly too: your houses ^note! ^note [Exeunt ^note Mercutio and Benvolio. ^note

Rom.
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got this ^note mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation ^note stain'd
With Tybalt's slander,—Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman ^note: O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate,
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!

Re-enter ^note Benvolio.

Ben.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's ^note dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.

Rom.
This day's black fate on more ^note days doth ^note depend;
This but begins the woe ^note others must end. Re-enter ^note Tybalt.

Ben.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

Rom.
Alive, in triumph! ^note and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-eyed ^note fury be my conduct now!
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 ^note thou, or I, or both, must go with him.

Tyb.
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.

Rom.
This shall determine that. [They fight; Tybalt falls.

Ben.
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain:
Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!

Rom.
O, I am fortune's fool!

Ben.
Why dost thou stay? [Exit Romeo.

^noteEnter Citizens, &c. ^note

First Cit. ^note
Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?

Ben.
There lies that Tybalt.

First Cit. ^note
Up ^note, sir, go with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name ^note, obey. Enter ^note Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives, and others.

Prin.
Where are the vile ^note beginners of this fray?

Ben.
O noble prince, I can discover all ^note
The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.

La. Cap. ^note
Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
O prince! O cousin! husband! O, ^note the blood is spilt
Of my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
O cousin, cousin! ^note

Prin.
Benvolio ^note, who began this bloody ^note fray?

Ben.
Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
Romeo that spoke him fair, bid ^note him bethink
How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal

Your high displeasure: all this uttered
With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd ^note,
Could not take ^note truce with the unruly spleen
Of Tybalt ^note 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 ^note: Romeo he cries aloud,
‘Hold, friends! friends, part!’ and, swifter than his tongue,
His agile ^note 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 ^note revenge,
And ^note to't ^note they go like lightning: for, ere I
Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain;
And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and ^note fly;
This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.

La. Cap.
He is a kinsman ^note to the Montague ^note,
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? ^note

Mon. ^note
Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;
His fault concludes but what the law should end,

The life of Tybalt.

Prin.
And for that offence
Immediately we do exile him hence:
I have an interest in your hate's ^note proceeding ^note,
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 ^note be deaf to pleading and excuses;
Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out ^note abuses:
Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,
Else, when he's ^note found, that hour is his ^note last.
Bear hence this body, and attend our will:
Mercy but ^note murders, pardoning those that kill. [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene II. [Footnote: Capulet's orchard. ^note Enter Juliet. ^note

Jul.
Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
Towards ^note Phœbus' lodging ^note: such a waggoner
As Phaethon ^note would whip you to the west,
And bring in cloudy night immediately.
Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
That runaway's ^note eyes may wink, ^note and Romeo

Leap ^note to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. ^note
Lovers can see to do their amorous rites ^note
By ^note their own beauties; or, if love be ^note blind,
It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
Thou sober-suited ^note matron, all in black,
And learn me how to lose a winning match,
Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods ^note:
Hood my unmann'd blood bating ^note in my cheeks
With thy black mantle, till strange love grown ^note bold
Think ^note 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 on ^note a raven's back.
Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note speaks heavenly eloquence. Enter ^note Nurse, with cords.
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
That Romeo bid thee fetch ^note?

Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords. [Throws ^note them down.

Jul.
Ay ^note me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? ^note

Nurse.
Ah ^note, well-a-day ^note! he's dead ^note, he's dead, he's dead.
We are undone, lady, we are undone.
Alack the day! he's gone ^note, he's kill'd, he's dead.

Jul.
Can heaven be so envious?

Nurse.
Romeo can,
Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo!
Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!

Jul.
What devil art thou that dost torment me thus? ^note
This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but ‘I,’
And that bare vowel ‘I’ ^note shall poison more
Than the death-darting ^note eye of cockatrice: ^note
I am not I, if there be such an I, ^note
Or those eyes shut ^note, that make thee ^note answer ‘I.’
If he be slain, say ‘I;’ ^note or if not, no:

Brief sounds ^note determine of ^note my weal or woe. ^note

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 ^note in blood,
All in gore blood: I swounded ^note at the sight.

Jul.
O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt ^note, break at once! ^note
To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
Vile earth, to ^note earth resign, end motion here,
And thou and Romeo press one ^note heavy bier ^note!

Nurse.
O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman ^note!
That ever I should live to see thee dead! ^note

Jul.
What storm is this that blows ^note so contrary?
Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
My dear-loved ^note cousin, and my dearer ^note lord?
Then ^note, dreadful trumpet ^note, sound the general doom!
For who is living, if those two are gone?

Nurse.
Tybalt is gone ^note, and Romeo banished;
Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.

Jul.
O God! ^note did ^note Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse. ^note
It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

Jul.
O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
Did ^note ever dragon keep so fair a cave?

Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
Dove-feather'd raven ^note! wolvish-ravening lamb ^note!
Despised ^note substance of divinest show!
Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
A damned ^note saint, an honourable villain ^note! ^{note note}
O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
When thou didst bower ^note 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!

Nurse.
There's no trust,
No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers ^{note note}.
Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitæ:
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
Shame come to Romeo!

Jul.
Blister'd ^note be thy tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
Upon his brow shame is ashamed 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 ^note!

Nurse.
Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? ^note

Jul.
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 ^note mistaking offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
And Tybalt's ^note dead, that would have slain ^note my husband:
All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was ^note, worser than Tybalt's death,
That murder'd ^note 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 ^note with other griefs,
Why follow'd ^note not, when she said ‘Tybalt's dead,’
Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
Which modern ^note lamentation might have moved? ^note
But with ^note a rear-ward ^note following Tybalt's death,
‘Romeo is banished:’ to ^note 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?

Nurse.
Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse ^note
Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.

Jul.
Wash they his wounds with tears: ^note mine shall be spent,
When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
Take up those cords: poor ropes ^note, you are beguiled,
Both you and I; ^note for Romeo is exiled:
He made you for a ^note highway to my bed;
But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed ^note.
Come, cords ^note; come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;
And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! ^note

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 ^note at night:
I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.

Jul.
O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
And bid him come to take his last farewell. [Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene III. [Footnote: Friar ^note Laurence's cell. Enter Friar Laurence. ^note

Fri. L.
Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: ^{note note}
Affliction ^note is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.

Enter Romeo. ^note

Rom.
Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? ^note
What sorrow craves acquaintance ^note at my hand,
That I yet know not?

Fri. L.
Too familiar
Is my dear son with ^note such sour company:
I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.

Rom.
What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? ^note

Fri. L.
A gentler ^note judgement vanish'd ^note from his lips,
Not body's death, but body's banishment.

Rom.
Ha, banishment! be merciful, say ‘death;’
For exile hath more terror in his look,
Much more than death ^note: do not say ‘banishment.’

Fri. L.
Here ^note from Verona art thou banished:
Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.

Rom.
There is no world without Verona ^note walls,
But purgatory, torture, hell ^note itself.
Hence banished ^note is banish'd ^note from the world,
And world's exile ^note is death: then ^note ‘banished ^note’
Is death mis-term'd: ^note calling death ‘banished ^note,’
Thou cut'st my head off with a golden axe
And smilest ^note upon the stroke that murders me.

Fri. L.
O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
Taking thy part, hath rush'd ^note aside the law,

And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
This ^note is dear ^note mercy, and thou seest it not.

Rom.
'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live ^note 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 ^note from her lips;
Who ^note, even in pure and vestal modesty,
Still blush, as ^note thinking their own kisses sin;
But Romeo may not; he is banished:
This may flies do, but I from this must fly:
They are free men, but I am banished:
And say'st thou yet, that exile is not death? ^note
Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground ^note knife,
No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
But ‘banished’ ^note to kill me?—‘Banished’?
O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
Howling attends ^note it: how hast thou the heart,
Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
A sin-absolver ^note, and my friend profess'd,
To mangle me with that word ‘banished’ ^note?

Fri. L.
Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word ^note.

Rom.
O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

Fri. L.
I'll give thee ^note armour to keep off that ^note word;
Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
To comfort thee, though thou art banished.

Rom.
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. ^note

Fr. L.
O, then I see that madmen ^note have no ears.

Rom.
How should they, when that ^note wise men ^note have no eyes? ^note

Fr. L.
Let me dispute ^note with thee of thy estate.

Rom.
Thou canst not speak of that thou ^note dost not feel:
Wert thou as young ^note as I, Juliet thy ^note love,
An hour but married, Tybalt murdered ^note,
Doting like me, and like me banished,
Then mightst thou speak, then mightst ^note thou tear thy hair ^note,
And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
Taking the measure of an unmade grave. [Knocking within. ^note

Fri. L.
Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself ^note.

Rom.
Not I ^note; unless the breath of heart-sick groans
Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. [Knocking. ^note

Fri. L.
Hark, how they knock! Who's ^note there? Romeo, arise ^note; ^note

Thou wilt be taken.—Stay awhile!—Stand up; [Knocking. ^note
Run to my study.—By and by!—God's will,
What simpleness ^note is this!—I come, I come! [Knocking. ^note
Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? ^note

Nurse. [Within ^note]
Let me come in, and you shall know my errand ^{note note};
I come from Lady Juliet.

Fri. L.
Welcome, then. Enter Nurse. ^note

Nurse.
O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
Where is ^note my lady's lord, where's Romeo?

Fri. L.
There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk ^note.

Nurse.
O, he is even in my mistress' ^note case ^note,
Just in her case!

Fr. L.
O woeful sympathy!
Piteous predicament ^note!

Nurse.
Even so lies ^note she,
Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
Stand up, stand up; stand, an you ^note be a man:
For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; ^note
Why should you fall into so deep an O?

Rom.
Nurse ^note!

Nurse.
Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's ^note the end of all.

Rom.
Spakest ^note thou of Juliet? how is it ^note with her?
Doth she not ^note think me an old murderer,
Now I have ^note stain'd the childhood ^note of our joy
With blood removed but little from her own?
Where is she? and how doth ^note she? and what says
My conceal'd ^note lady to our cancell'd ^note 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 ^note Romeo cries ^note,
And then down falls again.

Rom.
As if that name,
Shot from the deadly ^note level of a gun ^note,
Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
Murder'd ^note her kinsman. O, ^note tell me, friar, tell me,
In what vile part of this anatomy ^note
Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
The hateful mansion. [Drawing his sword. ^note

Fri. L.
Hold thy desperate hand: ^note
Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:
Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote ^note
The unreasonable fury of a beast:
Unseemly woman in a seeming man!

Or ^note ill-beseeming beast in seeming both ^note! ^note
Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,
I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
And slay thy lady that in thy life lives, ^note
By doing damned hate upon thyself?
Why rail'st ^note thou on thy birth, the heaven and earth?
Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet
In thee at once ^note, which thou at once wouldst lose ^note.
Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;
Which ^note, like a ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note skilless soldier's flask,
Is set a-fire ^note by thine own ignorance,
And thou dismember'd with thine own defence ^note.
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 slew'st Tybalt; there art thou happy too ^note:
The law, that threaten'd death, becomes ^note thy friend,
And turns ^note it to exile; there art thou happy:

A pack of blessings ^note lights ^note upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and ^note sullen wench,
Thou pout'st upon ^note 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 ^note 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.

Nurse.
O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night ^note
To hear good counsel: O, what learning ^note is!
My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.

Rom.
Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.

Nurse.
Here, sir ^note, a ring she bid ^note me give you, sir:
Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. [Exit. ^note

Rom.
How well my comfort is revived by this!

Fri.
Go hence ^note; good night; and here stands all your state:

Either be gone before the watch be set,
Or by the break of day disguised ^note from hence: ^note
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.

Rom.
But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
It were a grief, so brief to part with thee:
Farewell ^note. [Exeunt. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: A room ^note in Capulet's house. Enter ^note Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.

Cap.
Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily
That we have had ^note no time to move our daughter.
Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
And so did I. Well, we were born to die.
'Tis very late; she'll not come down to-night:
I promise you, but for your company,
I would have been a-bed ^note an hour ago ^note.

Par.
These times of woe afford no time ^note to woo ^note.
Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.

La. Cap.
I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
To-night she's mew'd ^note up to her heaviness ^note. ^note

Cap.
Sir Paris, I will make a desperate ^note tender
Of my child's love: I think she will be ^note ruled

In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not ^note.
Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
Acquaint her here of ^note my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next— ^note
But, soft! what day is this?

Par.
Monday, my lord.

Cap.
Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday ^note is too soon;
O' Thursday let it be: o' ^note Thursday, tell her,
She shall be married to this noble earl.
Will you be ready? do you like this haste? ^note
We'll keep ^note 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 ^note an end. But what say you to Thursday?

Par.
My lord ^note, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.

Cap.
Well, get you gone: o' ^note Thursday be it then. ^note
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 ^note early by and by ^note:
Good night ^note. [Exeunt. ^note

^note Scene V. [Footnote: Capulet's orchard. ^note Enter ^note Romeo and Juliet, above, at the window.

Jul.
Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: ^note
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yond ^note pomegranate-tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

Rom.
It was the lark, the herald of the ^note morn,
No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund ^note day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain ^note tops ^note:
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

Jul.
Yond ^note light is not day-light, I know it, I ^note:
It is some meteor that the sun ^note exhales ^note,
To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
Therefore stay yet; thou ^note need'st not to be ^note gone. ^note

Rom.
Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
I am content, so thou wilt have it so.

I'll say yon ^note grey is not the ^note morning's eye,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow ^note;
Nor that is not the ^note lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty heaven ^note so high above our heads:
I have more care to stay than will ^note to go: ^note
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is't, my soul? ^note let's talk: ^note it is not day.

Jul.
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 ^note toad change ^note eyes;
O, now I would they had ^note changed voices too!
Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
Hunting thee hence ^note with hunts-up to the day. ^note
O, now be gone; more light and light it ^note grows.

Rom.
More light and light: more ^note dark and dark our woes! ^note Enter Nurse, to the chamber. ^note

Nurse.
Madam!

Jul.
Nurse? ^note

Nurse.
Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:
The day is broke; be wary, look about. [Exit. ^{note note}

Jul.
Then, window, let day in, and let life out ^note.

Rom.
Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend ^note. [Descends. ^note

Jul.
Art thou gone so? my lord, my love, my friend ^note! ^note
I must hear from thee every day in the hour ^note,
For in a minute there are many days:
O, by this count I shall be much in years
Ere I again behold my Romeo!

Rom.
Farewell!
I will omit no opportunity ^note
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

Jul.
O, think'st ^note thou we shall ever meet again?

Rom.
I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
For sweet discourses in our time ^note to come.

Jul. ^note
O God! I have an ill-divining soul.
Methinks I see thee, now ^note thou art below ^note, ^note
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
Either my eyesight fails or thou look'st ^note pale.

Rom.
And trust me, love, in my ^note eye so do you:
Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! [Exit. ^{note note}

Jul.
O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him
That is renown'd ^note for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
But send him back.

La. Cap. [Within] ^note
Ho, daughter! are you up?

Jul.
Who is't that calls? it is ^note my lady mother! ^note
Is she not down so late, or up so early? ^note
What unaccustom'd cause procures ^note her hither ^note? Enter Lady Capulet. ^note

La. Cap.
Why, how now, Juliet!

Jul.
Madam, I am ^note not well.

La. Cap.
Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
An ^note if thou couldst, thou couldst ^note not make him live;
Therefore have done: some grief shows much of love,
But much of grief shows still some want of wit. ^note

Jul.
Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

La. Cap. ^note
So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
Which you weep ^note for.

Jul.
Feeling ^note so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend. ^note

La. Cap.
Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd ^note him.

Jul.
What villain, madam?

La. Cap.
That same ^note villain, Romeo.

Jul. [Aside ^note]
Villain and he be ^note many miles asunder.
God pardon ^note him ^note! I do, with all ^note my heart;
And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

La. Cap.
That is because the traitor murderer ^note lives.

Jul.
Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!

La. Cap.
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 ^note dram ^note
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

Jul.
Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him—dead— ^note
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex'd ^note.
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would ^note temper it,
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
To hear him named, and cannot come to him,
To wreak the love ^note I bore ^note my cousin ^note
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd ^note him!

La. Cap. ^note
Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings ^note, girl. ^note

Jul.
And joy comes well in such a needy ^note time:
What are they, I beseech ^note your ladyship?

La. Cap.
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 ^note not, nor I look'd ^note not for.

Jul.
Madam, in happy time, what day is that ^note?

La. Cap.
Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The County ^note Paris, at Saint ^note Peter's Church,
Shall happily ^note make thee there ^note a joyful bride.

Jul.
Now, by Saint ^note 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 ^note be husband comes to woo ^note.
I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, ^note
It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! ^note

La. Cap. ^note
Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
And see how he will take it at your ^note hands. Enter ^note Capulet and Nurse.

Cap.
When the sun sets, the air ^note doth drizzle dew ^note;
But for the sunset of my brother's son
It rains downright. ^note
How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? ^note
Evermore showering? In one little body ^note
Thou counterfeit'st a ^note 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 ^note,
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;
Who ^note raging with thy ^note tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife ^note!
Have you deliver'd ^note to her our decree?

La. Cap.
Ay, sir ^note; but she will none, she gives ^note you thanks. ^note
I would the fool were married to her grave!

Cap.
Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How! ^note will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom ^note?

Jul.
Not proud, you have, but thankful that you have ^note:
Proud can I never be of what I hate ^note;
But thankful even for hate that is meant ^note love.

Cap.
How, how! how, how! ^note chop-logic ^note! What is this? ^note
‘Proud,’ and ‘I thank you,’ and ‘I thank you not;’
And yet ‘not proud: ^note’ ^note mistress ^note minion, you, ^note
Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds,
But fettle ^note 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 ^note carrion! out, you baggage!
You ^note tallow-face ^{note note}!

La. Cap.
Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

Jul.
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

Cap. ^note
Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee ^note what: get thee to church o' ^note Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch. Wife, ^note we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent ^note us but this only child,
But now I see this one is one too much
And that we have a curse ^note in having her:
Out on her, hilding!

Nurse.
God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame ^note, my lord, to rate her so.

Cap. ^note
And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, ^note go.

Nurse.
I speak no treason.

Cap. ^note
O, God ye god-den. ^note

Nurse. ^note
May not one speak?

Cap.
Peace ^note, you mumbling ^note fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's ^note bowl ^note;
For here we need it not.

La. Cap.
You are too hot.

^note

Cap. ^note
God's bread! it makes me mad:
Day, night, hour, tide ^note, time ^note, work, play,
Alone, in company ^note, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now provided
A gentleman of noble ^note parentage,
Of fair demesnes ^note, youthful, and nobly train'd ^note,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd ^note as one's thought would ^note wish a man;
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's ^note tender,
To answer ‘Ill not wed; I cannot love,
I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.’
But, an ^note 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 ^note you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
An ^note you be not, hang, beg, starve ^note, die in the ^note streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never ^note do thee good:
Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. [Exit.

Jul.
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 ^note monument where Tybalt lies.

La. Cap.
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. [Exit.

Jul.
O God ^note!—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 ^note.
Alack, alack, ^note 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. ^note

Nurse.
Faith, here it is.
Romeo is banish'd, and ^note all the world to nothing ^note,
That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
Or, if he do, it needs must be by ^note stealth.
Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
I think it best you married with the county ^note.
O, he's ^note a lovely gentleman! ^note
Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,
Hath not so green ^note, so quick, so fair an eye
As Paris hath. Beshrew ^note 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 ^note and you no use of him.

Jul.
Speakest ^note thou from thy heart?

Nurse.
And from ^note my soul too ^note; else beshrew ^note them both ^note.

Jul.
Amen!

Nurse.
What? ^note

Jul.
Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
Go in, and tell my lady I am gone,
Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,
To make confession and to be absolved ^note.

Nurse.
Marry, I will, and this is wisely done. [Exit. ^note

Jul.
Ancient damnation! O most wicked ^note fiend!
Is it ^note more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
Which she hath praised him with above compare
So many thousand times? Go, counsellor;
Thou and my bosom henceforth ^note shall be twain.
I'll to the friar, to know his remedy:
If all else fail, myself have power to die. [Exit. ^note

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