romeo and juliet

Romeo: And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this.

'tis almost morning; i would have thee gone: and yet no further than a wanton's bird; who lets it hop a little from her hand, like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves (jives), and with a silk thread plucks it back again, so loving-jealous of his liberty

romeo: shall i hear more, or shall i speak at this?

'tis but they name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a montague. what's montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor any 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.

capulet (vo): how now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?

(VO)where i have learn'd me to repent the sin of disobedient opposition, henceforward I am ever ruled by you

capulet (vo): send for thy county; go tell him this

(vo) i met the youthful lord at laurence's cell; and gave him what becomed love I might

Nurse: Have you got leave to go to shrift today?

I have

nurse: what's this?

a rhyme i learn'd even now of one i danced withal

romeo: so thrive my soul

a thousand times good night!

nurse: and from my soul too; or else beshrew them both

amen!

paris: find thou the means, and i'll find such a man. but now ill tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

and joy comes well in such a needy time: what are they, I beseech you?

nurse: yes: yet i cannot choose but laugh, to think it should leave crying and say 'ay'. 'yea' quoth my husband, fall'st upon thy face? it stinted and said 'ay'

and stint thou too, i pray thee nurse

romeo: my dear?

at what o'clock tomorrow shall i send to thee?

romeo: ...o, that i were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!

ay me!

paris: that same villain, romeo.

ay, from the reach of these my hands; would none but i might venge my cousin's death.

romeo: have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer

capulet: why, i am glad on't; this is well; stand up: this is as't should be

ay, those attires are best, but gentle nurse, i pray thee, leave me to myself to-night, 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. so please you, let me now be left alone, for, i am sure, you have your hands full all, in this so sudden business.

nurse: there's no trust...shame come to romeo!

blister'd be thy tongue for such a wish!

nurse: well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to choose a man: Romeo! (LOTS MORE WORDS) .... but, i'll warant him, as gentle as a lamb

but all this i did know before, what says he of our marriage? what of that?

romeo: wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?

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! anon, good nurse! sweet montague, be true. stay but a little, i will come again

nurse: madam!

by and by, i come --- to cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: to-morrow i will send

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, then death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

by whose direction found'st thou out this place?

nurse: ah, well-a-day! dead, dead, dead! we are undone, lady we are undone! alack the day! gone, kill'd, dead!

can heaven be so envious?

prince: ....i thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. i'll to my rest.

come hither, nurse. what is yond gentleman?

nurse: o god's lady dear! are you so hot? marry, come up i trow-

come, what says romeo?

romeo: what shall i swear by?

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

nurse: good night: get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need

farewell! god knows when we shall meet again. what if this mixture do not work at all? what if it be a poison? 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 along. come vial.

paris: so shall you weep the loss, but not the friend which you weep for.

feeling so the loss, cannot choose but ever weep the friend

prince: ....mercy but murders, pardoning those who kill

gallop apace, you fiery footed steeds to phoebus's 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, untalk'd of and unseen. Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; for thou wilt lie upon the wings of night whiter than new snow on 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 a 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 now nurse, what news? ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?

friar: hold, then....abate thy valour in the acting it

give me, give me. love give me strength and strength shall help afford. farewell, dear father.

friar: i dare no longer stay

go get thee hence for i will not away. here, here will i remain, with worms that are my chambermaids. o, here will i set up my everlasting rest and shake the yoke of inauspicious stars from this world wearied flesh.

nurse: i know not.

go, ask his name!

friar laurence: ....too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. here comes the lady.

good even to my ghostly confessor.

capulet (vo): but fettle your fine joints to go w paris to saint peter's church, or i will drag thee on a hurdle thither.

good father, i beseech you on my knees, hear me with patience but to speak a word.

romeo: if i profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

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

nurse: then hie you hence to friar laurence's cell...i'll to dinner: hie you to the cell.

hie to high fortune! honest nurse, farewell

romeo: a thousand times the worse, to want thy light. love goes toward love, as schoolboys from their books, but love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

hist! romeo! hist!

Nurse: Jesu, what haste! Can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath?

how art thou out of breath when thou has breath to say to me that thou art out of breath? 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?

romeo: neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike

how camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? this place is death, considering who thou art, if any of my kinsmen find thee here

Nurse: i bade her come. what lamb! what ladybird! god forbid! where's this girl? what, juliet!

how now! who calls?

greg: your father.

i am here. what is your will?

nurse: madam!

i come anon- but if thou meanest not well, i do beseech thee-

romeo: The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.

i gave thee mine before thou didst request it; and yet i would it were to give again

romeo: let me stand here till thou remember it.

i shall forget, to have thee still stand there, remembering how i love thy company.

Paris: Do not deny to him that you love me.

i will confess to you that i love him

romeo: at the hour of nine.

i will not fail: tis twenty years till then. i have forgot why i did call thee back.

Romeo: "alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than 20 of their swords! Look thou but sweet and I am proof against their enmity."

i would not for the world they saw thee here

nurse: lord, how my head aches! what a head have i!!

i' faith, i am sorry that thou art not well. sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?

capulet (v.o.): speak briefly, can you like of paris's love?

i'll look to like.

romeo: with love's light wings did i o'er perch 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

if they do see thee, they will murder thee.

greg: well, well, thou...that thou expect'st nor not i look'd not for.

in happy time, what day is that?

paris: we will have vengeance...and then i hope thou wilt be satisfied

indeed, i never shall be satisfied with Romeo, till I behold him -- dead--

capulet (vo): ...nor what is mine shall never do thee good: trust to't, bethink you, i'll not be forsworn.

is there no pity sitting in the clouds that sees into the bottom of my grief? 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? what say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? some comfort, nurse.

capulet (v.o.): marry, is the very theme I came to talk of. tell me, daughter juliet, how stands your disposition to be married?

it is an honour that i dream not of.

romeo: let me be tae'en....let's talk. it is not day.

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. o, now be gone: more light and light it grows.

Paris: Thy face is mine, and thou hast slandered it.

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?

Paris: marry early next thursday morn.

marry?

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

my ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue's utterance, yet i know the sound: art thou not Romeo and a montague?

nurse: thank you, gregory.

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.

romeo: ah, juliet, if the measure of thy joy be heap'd like mine then sweeten with thy breath this neighborhood air, and let rich music's tongue unfold the imagined happiness that both receive in either by this dear encounter.

my true love is grown to such excess i cannot sum up half of my wealth.

Nurse: I am aweary. Give me leave awhile.

nay, come, i pray thee, speak: good, good nurse speak.

greg: the gallant, young and noble gentlemen...shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

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. 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!

nurse: greg, stay at the gate.

now, good sweet nurse - O lord, why lookst thou sad

Nurse: Romeo can, Though heaven cannot. O Romeo, Romeo, Whoever would have thought it? Romeo...god save the mark! i swounded at the sight!

o break my heart, to prison, my eyes! vile earth, to earth resign, and motion here, and thou and romeo press one heavy bier!

romeo: i doubt it not; all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our time to come.

o fourtune, forutne! all men call thee fickle: be fickle, fortune; for then i hope thou wilt not keep him long, but send him back

Nurse: Tybalt is gone and Romeo banishèd. Romeo that killed him—he is banishèd.

o god! did romeo's hand shed tybalt's blood?

NURSE Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

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 praised 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.

romeo: she speaks: o, speak again, bright angel! for thou art as glorious to this night, as a winged messanger of heaven.

o romeo, romeo! wherefore art thou romeo? deny thy and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and i'll no longer be a capulet

Nurse: It did, it did, alas the day, it did.

o serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! dove-feathered raven! wolvish ravening lamb! 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 moral 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.

paris: god shield i should disturb devotion! ... till then adieu; and keep this holy kiss.

o shut the door and when thou hast done so, come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!

Romeo: Farewell, farewell. One kiss and I'll descend.

o think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

friar: hold, daughter...and if thou darest, i'll give thee remedy

o, bid me leap rather than marry paris, from off the battlements of yonder tower; and i will do it without fear or doubt to live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love

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.

o, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb, lest that thy love prove likewise variable

Romeo: It is my soul that calls upon my name. How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears.

romeo!

romeo: o, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake

Nurse: Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?

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 killed my husband: back foolish tears, back to your native spring; my husband lives, that tybalt would have slain; and tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: all this is comfort. some word there was, worser than tybalt's death, 'tybalt is dead and romeo--bani-shed' that banished, that one word 'banished' hath slain ten thousand tybalts. tybalt's death was woe enough, 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, my kinsmen?

pairs: why, how now, juliet!

sir, i am not well.

nurse: faith, here it is....i think you are happy in this second match, for it excels your first.

speakest thou from thy heart?

romeo: i would i were thy bird.

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.

friar: ah, juliet, i already know thy grief

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; be not so long to speak; i long to die, if what thou speak'st speak not of remedy

Paris: Happily met, my lady and my wife!

that may be, sir, when i may be a wife

nurse: greg, take my fan, and go before and apace.

the clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; in half an hour she promised 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 louring 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 hours long, yet she is not come. had she affections and warm youthful blood, she would 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 (fayn) as they were dead; unwieldy, slow, heavy, and pale as lead. o, god, she comes. o honey nurse, what news? hast thou met with him? send thy man away.

paris: poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears

the tears have got small victory by that for it was bad enough before their spite

romeo: then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

then have my lips the sin that they have took

gregory: our lady is within her chamber, my lord.

then window, let day in, and let life out

romeo: by love.

thou know'st 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 swearst, thou mayst prove false; at lover's perjuries they say, Jove laughs. o gentle romeo, if thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: or if thou thinkst i am too quickly won, i'll frown and be perverse an 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 havior 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's passion: therefore pardon me, and not impute this yielding to light love, which the dark night hath discovered

romeo: o, blessed, blessed night! i am afeard. being in night, all this is a dream, too flattering sweet to be substantial.

three words, dear romeo, and good night indeed. if that thy bent of love be honourable, thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, 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

Paris: Come you to make confession to this father?

to answer that i should confess to you

nurse: weeping and wailing over tybalt's corse

wash they her wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, when theirs are dry, for romeo's banishment. take up these cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, both you and i; for romeo is exiled: 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

romeo: if my heart's dear love-

well, do not swear: although i joy in thee, i have no joy of this contract tonight: it is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; too like 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!

nurse: what?

well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. go in: and tell my lord I am gone, having displeased my father, to laurence's cell to make confession and be absolved

romeo: i take thee at thy word: call me but love, and i'll be new baptized; henceforth i never will be romeo

what man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night, so stumblest on my counsel

Paris: That "may be" must be, love, on Thursday next.

what must be shall be

romeo: o, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

what satisfaction canst thou have tonight?

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

what storm is this that blows so contrary? is romeo slaughter'd 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?

paris: ...as that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

what villain sir?

nurse: marry, that, i think, be young balthasar.

what's he that follows there, that would not dance?

nurse: the son and heir of old tiberio

what's he that now is going out of door?

romeo: o true apothecary! thy drugs are quick!

what's here? a cup closed in my true love's hand? oh churl! drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after? i will kiss thy lips, haply some poison doth hang on them.

nurse: your love says, like an honest gentlemen, and a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and I warrant, a virtuous -- where is your father?

where is my father! how oddly thou repliest! 'your love says, like an honest gentleman, where is your father?

paris: ho, juliet! are you up?

who ist that calls? is it my lord paris? what unaccustom'd cause procures him hither?

capulet (v.o): well get you gone: o' thursday be it then. go you to juliet ere you go to bed. good night.

wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day. it was the nightingale and not the lark that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear. nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

abraham: romeo?

yea, what noise? then i'll be brief, o happy dagger, this is thy sheath. there rust, and let me die.

paris: evermore weeping for your cousin's death? ... thou couldst not make her life.

yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

romeo: it was the lark...i must be gone and love, or stay and die.

yon 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 thy way to mantua (manchua): therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone

romeo: sin from thy lips? o trespass sweetly urged! give me my sin again.

you kiss by the book.