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

Previous section