Reading Help THE TRAGEDY OF ROMEO AND JULIET
Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind Prince, `
` Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, `
` And turn'd that black word death to banishment. `
` This is dear 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 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 from her lips, `
` Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, `
` Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; `
` But Romeo may not- he is banished. `
` This may flies do, when I from this must fly; `
` They are free men, but I am banished. `
` And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? `
` Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, `
` No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, `
` But 'banished' to kill me- 'banished'? `
` O friar, the damned use that word in hell; `
` Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart, `
` Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, `
` A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, `
` To mangle me with that word 'banished'? `
` Friar. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak. `
` Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. `
` Friar. I'll give thee armour to keep off that 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. `
` Friar. O, then I see that madmen have no ears. `
` Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? `
` Friar. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. `
` Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. `
` Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, `
` An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, `
` Doting like me, and like me banished, `
` Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, `
` And fall upon the ground, as I do now, `
` Taking the measure of an unmade grave. `
` Knock [within]. `
` Friar. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself. `
` Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, `
` Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. Knock. `
` Friar. Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; `
` Thou wilt be taken.- Stay awhile!- Stand up; Knock. `
` Run to my study.- By-and-by!- God's will, `
` What simpleness is this.- I come, I come! Knock. `
` Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will `
` Nurse. [within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand. `
` I come from Lady Juliet. `
` Friar. Welcome then. `
` `
` Enter Nurse. `
` `
` Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar `
` Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? `
` Friar. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. `
` Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case, `
` Just in her case! `
` Friar. O woeful sympathy! `
` Piteous predicament! `
` Nurse. Even so lies she, `
` Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering. `
` Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man. `
` For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand! `
` Why should you fall into so deep an O? `
` Rom. (rises) Nurse- `
` Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. `
` Rom. Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her? `
` Doth not she think me an old murtherer, `
` Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy `
` With blood remov'd but little from her own? `
` Where is she? and how doth she! and what says `
` My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd 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 Romeo cries, `
` And then down falls again. `
` Rom. As if that name, `
` Shot from the deadly level of a gun, `
` Did murther her; as that name's cursed hand `
` Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, `
` In what vile part of this anatomy `
` Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack `
` The hateful mansion. [Draws his dagger.] `
` Friar. Hold thy desperate hand. `
` Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art; `
` Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote `
` The unreasonable fury of a beast. `
` Unseemly woman in a seeming man! `
` Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! `
` Thou hast amaz'd 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, `
` By doing damned hate upon thyself? `
` Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? `
` Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet `
` In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. `
` Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit, `
` Which, like a 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 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, `
` Misshapen in the conduct of them both, `
` Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, `
` is get afire by thine own ignorance, `
` And thou dismemb'red with thine own defence. `
` 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 slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too. `
` The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend `
` And turns it to exile. There art thou happy. `
` A pack of blessings light upon thy back; `
` Happiness courts thee in her best array; `
` But, like a misbhav'd and sullen wench, `
` Thou pout'st upon 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, 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 `
` To hear good counsel. O, what learning is! `
` My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. `
` Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. `
` Nurse. Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir. `
` Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. Exit. `
` Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! `
` Friar. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: `
` Either be gone before the watch be set, `
` Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence. `
` 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. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` Scene IV. `
` Capulet's house `
` `
` Enter Old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris. `
` `
` Cap. Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily `
` That we have had no time to move our daughter. `
` Look you, she lov'd 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 abed an hour ago. `
` Par. These times of woe afford no tune to woo. `
` Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. `
` Lady. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; `
` To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. `
` Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender `
` Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd `
` In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not. `
` Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; `
` Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love `
` And bid her (mark you me?) on Wednesday next- `
` But, soft! what day is this? `
` Par. Monday, my lord. `
` Cap. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. `
` Thursday let it be- a Thursday, tell her `
` She shall be married to this noble earl. `
` Will you be ready? Do you like this haste? `
` We'll keep 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 an end. But what say you to Thursday? `
` Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. `
` Cap. Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then. `
`
` Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, `
` And turn'd that black word death to banishment. `
` This is dear 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 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 from her lips, `
` Who, even in pure and vestal modesty, `
` Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; `
` But Romeo may not- he is banished. `
` This may flies do, when I from this must fly; `
` They are free men, but I am banished. `
` And sayest thou yet that exile is not death? `
` Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, `
` No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, `
` But 'banished' to kill me- 'banished'? `
` O friar, the damned use that word in hell; `
` Howling attends it! How hast thou the heart, `
` Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, `
` A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, `
` To mangle me with that word 'banished'? `
` Friar. Thou fond mad man, hear me a little speak. `
` Rom. O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. `
` Friar. I'll give thee armour to keep off that 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. `
` Friar. O, then I see that madmen have no ears. `
` Rom. How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? `
` Friar. Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. `
` Rom. Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel. `
` Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, `
` An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, `
` Doting like me, and like me banished, `
` Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, `
` And fall upon the ground, as I do now, `
` Taking the measure of an unmade grave. `
` Knock [within]. `
` Friar. Arise; one knocks. Good Romeo, hide thyself. `
` Rom. Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, `
` Mist-like infold me from the search of eyes. Knock. `
` Friar. Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; `
` Thou wilt be taken.- Stay awhile!- Stand up; Knock. `
` Run to my study.- By-and-by!- God's will, `
` What simpleness is this.- I come, I come! Knock. `
` Who knocks so hard? Whence come you? What's your will `
` Nurse. [within] Let me come in, and you shall know my errand. `
` I come from Lady Juliet. `
` Friar. Welcome then. `
` `
` Enter Nurse. `
` `
` Nurse. O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar `
` Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? `
` Friar. There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. `
` Nurse. O, he is even in my mistress' case, `
` Just in her case! `
` Friar. O woeful sympathy! `
` Piteous predicament! `
` Nurse. Even so lies she, `
` Blubb'ring and weeping, weeping and blubbering. `
` Stand up, stand up! Stand, an you be a man. `
` For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand! `
` Why should you fall into so deep an O? `
` Rom. (rises) Nurse- `
` Nurse. Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. `
` Rom. Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her? `
` Doth not she think me an old murtherer, `
` Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy `
` With blood remov'd but little from her own? `
` Where is she? and how doth she! and what says `
` My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd 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 Romeo cries, `
` And then down falls again. `
` Rom. As if that name, `
` Shot from the deadly level of a gun, `
` Did murther her; as that name's cursed hand `
` Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, `
` In what vile part of this anatomy `
` Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack `
` The hateful mansion. [Draws his dagger.] `
` Friar. Hold thy desperate hand. `
` Art thou a man? Thy form cries out thou art; `
` Thy tears are womanish, thy wild acts denote `
` The unreasonable fury of a beast. `
` Unseemly woman in a seeming man! `
` Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! `
` Thou hast amaz'd 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, `
` By doing damned hate upon thyself? `
` Why railest thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? `
` Since birth and heaven and earth, all three do meet `
` In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. `
` Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit, `
` Which, like a 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 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, `
` Misshapen in the conduct of them both, `
` Like powder in a skilless soldier's flask, `
` is get afire by thine own ignorance, `
` And thou dismemb'red with thine own defence. `
` 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 slewest Tybalt. There art thou happy too. `
` The law, that threat'ned death, becomes thy friend `
` And turns it to exile. There art thou happy. `
` A pack of blessings light upon thy back; `
` Happiness courts thee in her best array; `
` But, like a misbhav'd and sullen wench, `
` Thou pout'st upon 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, 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 `
` To hear good counsel. O, what learning is! `
` My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. `
` Rom. Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. `
` Nurse. Here is a ring she bid me give you, sir. `
` Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. Exit. `
` Rom. How well my comfort is reviv'd by this! `
` Friar. Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: `
` Either be gone before the watch be set, `
` Or by the break of day disguis'd from hence. `
` 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. `
` Exeunt. `
` `
` `
` `
` `
` Scene IV. `
` Capulet's house `
` `
` Enter Old Capulet, his Wife, and Paris. `
` `
` Cap. Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily `
` That we have had no time to move our daughter. `
` Look you, she lov'd 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 abed an hour ago. `
` Par. These times of woe afford no tune to woo. `
` Madam, good night. Commend me to your daughter. `
` Lady. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; `
` To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness. `
` Cap. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender `
` Of my child's love. I think she will be rul'd `
` In all respects by me; nay more, I doubt it not. `
` Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; `
` Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love `
` And bid her (mark you me?) on Wednesday next- `
` But, soft! what day is this? `
` Par. Monday, my lord. `
` Cap. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon. `
` Thursday let it be- a Thursday, tell her `
` She shall be married to this noble earl. `
` Will you be ready? Do you like this haste? `
` We'll keep 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 an end. But what say you to Thursday? `
` Par. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. `
` Cap. Well, get you gone. A Thursday be it then. `
`