This afternoon;

And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell

Be shriv'd, and married. Here is for thy pains.
Nurse. No truly, sir; not a penny.
Rom. Go to; I say you shall.

Nurse. This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.

[wall: Rom. And stay, good nurse, behind the abbeyWithin 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. Nurse. Now heaven bless thee!-Hark you, sir.

Rom. 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? Rom. I warrant thee; my man's as true as steel. Nurse. Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady when 'twas a little prating thing,-0, there's a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lieve 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 'varsal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?

Rom. 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.

Rom. Commend me to thy lady.
Nurse. Ay, a thousand times.-Peter!
Pet. Anon?

[Exit.

If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news By playing it to me with so sour a face. Nurse. I am weary, give me leave a while;Fie, how my bones ache! What a jaunt have I had! [news: Jul. I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy Nay, come, I pray thee, speak;-good, good nurse, speak. [while? Nurse. What haste? can you not stay a 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, they are past compare: He is not the flower of courtesy,-but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb.-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. 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
love?
[man,

Nurse. Your love says like an honest gentleAnd a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, And, I warrant, a virtuous-where is your mother?

Jul. Where is my mother?-why, she is within; Where should she be ? How oddly thou reply'st! "Your love says like an honest gentleman, Where is your mother?"

Nurse. Marry, come up, I trow;

the nurse;

[so.

In half an hour she promis'd to return.
Perchance, she cannot meet him :-that's not
O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
Driving back shadows over lowring 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.
Enter Nurse and PETER.

O here she comes!-O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Nurse. Peter, stay at the gate. [Exit PET.
Jul. Now, good sweet nurse,-why look'st
thou sad?

Henceforward do your messages yourself.
Jul. Here's such a coil; -Come, what says
Romeo?

[day?

Nurse. Have you got leave to go to shrift toJul. I have.

[cell,

Nurse. Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' 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, I must go fetch a ladder, for your love. I am the drudge, and toil in your delight; Go, I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell. Jul. Hie to high fortune!-honest nurse, farewell. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.-FRIAR LAURENCE'S Cell.

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 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.

Fri. 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.
Enter JULIET.

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 confessor.
Fri. Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us
both.

[much. Jul. As much to him, else are his thanks too Rom. 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. [words, Jul. Conceit, more rich in matter than in 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;

And holy church incorporate two in one. [Exeunt.

Act Third.

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, "heaven 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?

* The long white filament which flies in the air. + Paint, display. +Imagination.

with another, for tying his new shoes with old ribband? 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. [them.Tyb. Follow me close, for I will speak to 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. [out giving? Mer. Could you not take some occasion withTyb. 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. Consort! 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.

my man.

Enter ROMEO.

Tyb. Well, peace be with you, sir! here comes [livery: 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 hate I bear thee, can afford No better term than this-Thou art a villain. Rom. 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.
Tyb. Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn, and
draw.

Rom. 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.

Mer. O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! A la stoccata? carries it away. [Draws. Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?" Tyb. What would'st 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, drybeat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out. Tyb. I am for you. [Drawing. Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. Mer. Come, sir, your passado. [They fight. Rom. Draw, Benvolio; [shame! Beat down their weapons:- Gentlemen, for Forbear this outrage;-Tybalt-MercutioThe prince expressly hath forbid this bandying In Verona streets :-hold, Tybalt ;-good Mercu

tio. [Exeunt TYB. and his Partizans.

? The Italian term for a thrust or stab with a rapier. Case or scabbard.

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.-

Enter Nurse, with Cords.

Here comes my nurse,

And she brings news; and every tongue, that speaks

But Romeo's name, speaks heavenly eloquence.-
Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there,
That Romeo bade thee fetch?
[the cords,
Nurse.
Ay, ay, the cords.
[Throws them down.
Jul. Ah me! what news! why dost thou
wring thy hands?
[he's dead!
Nurse. Ah well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead,
We are undone, lady, we are undone ! [dead!
Alack the day!-he's gone, he's kill'd, he's
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?

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,-

'Twas here, e'en here, upon his manly breast:
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore blood;-I swoonded at the sight.
Jul. O break, my heart!-poor bankrupt,
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 had!
O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead! [trary?
Jul. What storm is this, that blows so con-
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.
Jul. O heaven!-did Romeo's hand shed Ty-

balt's blood?

Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua-
vitæ:-
Cold.
These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me
Shame come to Romeo!
Jul.
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.

Blister'd be thy tongue,

O, what a beast was I to chide at him!

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

name,

Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy [it? When I, thy three-hours' wife, have mangled But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? [band: That villain cousin would have killed my husBack, 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 horrid 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
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?

Nurse. Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's

corse:

Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. Jul. 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 beBoth you and I; for Romeo is exil'd. [guil'd,

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 Laurence' cell.

Jul. O find him! give this ring to my true knight,

And bid him come to take his last farewell.

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