| ACT IIISCENE V | Capulet's orchard. | |
| | Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window | |
| JULIET | 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: | 5 |
| | Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. | |
| ROMEO | It was the lark, the herald of the morn, | |
| | No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks | |
| | Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: | |
| | Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day | 10 |
| | Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. | |
| | I must be gone and live, or stay and die. | |
| JULIET | Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: | |
| | It is some meteor that the sun exhales, | |
| | To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, | 15 |
| | And light thee on thy way to Mantua: | |
| | Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. | |
| ROMEO | Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; | |
| | I am content, so thou wilt have it so. | |
| | I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, | 20 |
| | 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; | |
| | Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat | |
| | The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: | |
| | I have more care to stay than will to go: | |
| | Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. | 25 |
| | How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. | |
| JULIET | 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; | 30 |
| | This doth not so, for she divideth us: | |
| | Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, | |
| | O, now I would they had changed voices too! | |
| | Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, | |
| | Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, | 35 |
| | O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. | |
| ROMEO | More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! | |
| | Enter Nurse, to the chamber | |
| Nurse | Madam! | |
| JULIET | Nurse? | |
| Nurse | Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: | 40 |
| | The day is broke; be wary, look about. | |
| | Exit | |
| JULIET | Then, window, let day in, and let life out. | |
| ROMEO | Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. | |
| | He goeth down | |
| JULIET | Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! | |
| | I must hear from thee every day in the hour, | 45 |
| | For in a minute there are many days: | |
| | O, by this count I shall be much in years | |
| | Ere I again behold my Romeo! | |
| ROMEO | Farewell! | |
| | I will omit no opportunity | 50 |
| | That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. | |
| JULIET | O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? | |
| ROMEO | I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve | |
| | For sweet discourses in our time to come. | |
| JULIET | O God, I have an ill-divining soul! | 55 |
| | Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, | |
| | As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: | |
| | Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. | |
| ROMEO | And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: | |
| | Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! | 60 |
| | Exit | |
| JULIET | O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: | |
| | If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. | |
| | That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; | |
| | For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, | |
| | But send him back. | 65 |
| LADY CAPULET | Within | |
| JULIET | Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? | |
| | Is she not down so late, or up so early? | |
| | What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? | |
| | Enter LADY CAPULET | |
| LADY CAPULET | Why, how now, Juliet! | |
| JULIET | Madam, I am not well. | 70 |
| LADY CAPULET | Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? | |
| | What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? | |
| | An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; | |
| | Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; | |
| | But much of grief shows still some want of wit. | 75 |
| JULIET | Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. | |
| LADY CAPULET | So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend | |
| | Which you weep for. | |
| JULIET | Feeling so the loss, | |
| | Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. | 80 |
| LADY CAPULET | Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, | |
| | As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. | |
| JULIET | What villain madam? | |
| LADY CAPULET | That same villain, Romeo. | |
| JULIET | Aside | |
| | God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; | 85 |
| | And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. | |
| LADY CAPULET | That is, because the traitor murderer lives. | |
| JULIET | Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: | |
| | Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! | |
| LADY CAPULET | We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: | 90 |
| | 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 dram, | |
| | That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: | |
| | And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. | 95 |
| JULIET | Indeed, I never shall be satisfied | |
| | With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- | |
| | Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. | |
| | Madam, if you could find out but a man | |
| | To bear a poison, I would temper it; | 100 |
| | 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 I bore my cousin | |
| | Upon his body that slaughter'd him! | 105 |
| LADY CAPULET | Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. | |
| | But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. | |
| JULIET | And joy comes well in such a needy time: | |
| | What are they, I beseech your ladyship? | |
| LADY CAPULET | Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; | 110 |
| | One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, | |
| | Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, | |
| | That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. | |
| JULIET | Madam, in happy time, what day is that? | |
| LADY CAPULET | Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, | 115 |
| | The gallant, young and noble gentleman, | |
| | The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, | |
| | Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. | |
| JULIET | Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, | |
| | He shall not make me there a joyful bride. | 120 |
| | I wonder at this haste; that I must wed | |
| | Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. | |
| | I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, | |
| | I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, | |
| | It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, | 125 |
| | Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! | |
| LADY CAPULET | Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, | |
| | And see how he will take it at your hands. | |
| | Enter CAPULET and Nurse | |
| CAPULET | When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; | |
| | But for the sunset of my brother's son | 130 |
| | It rains downright. | |
| | How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? | |
| | Evermore showering? In one little body | |
| | Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; | |
| | For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, | 135 |
| | Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, | |
| | Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; | |
| | Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, | |
| | Without a sudden calm, will overset | |
| | Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! | 140 |
| | Have you deliver'd to her our decree? | |
| LADY CAPULET | Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. | |
| | I would the fool were married to her grave! | |
| CAPULET | Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. | |
| | How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? | 145 |
| | 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? | |
| JULIET | Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: | |
| | Proud can I never be of what I hate; | 150 |
| | But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. | |
| CAPULET | How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? | |
| | 'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' | |
| | And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, | |
| | Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, | 155 |
| | But fettle 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 carrion! out, you baggage! | |
| | You tallow-face! | 160 |
| LADY CAPULET | Fie, fie! what, are you mad? | |
| JULIET | Good father, I beseech you on my knees, | |
| | Hear me with patience but to speak a word. | |
| CAPULET | Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! | |
| | I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, | 165 |
| | Or never after look me in the face: | |
| | Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; | |
| | My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest | |
| | That God had lent us but this only child; | |
| | But now I see this one is one too much, | 170 |
| | And that we have a curse in having her: | |
| | Out on her, hilding! | |
| Nurse | God in heaven bless her! | |
| | You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. | |
| CAPULET | And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, | 175 |
| | Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. | |
| Nurse | I speak no treason. | |
| CAPULET | O, God ye god-den. | |
| Nurse | May not one speak? | |
| CAPULET | Peace, you mumbling fool! | 180 |
| | Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; | |
| | For here we need it not. | |
| LADY CAPULET | You are too hot. | |
| CAPULET | God's bread! it makes me mad: | |
| | Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, | 185 |
| | Alone, in company, still my care hath been | |
| | To have her match'd: and having now provided | |
| | A gentleman of noble parentage, | |
| | Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, | |
| | Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, | 190 |
| | Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; | |
| | And then to have a wretched puling fool, | |
| | A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, | |
| | To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, | |
| | I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' | 195 |
| | But, as 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 you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; | 200 |
| | And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in | |
| | the streets, | |
| | For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, | |
| | Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: | |
| | Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. | 205 |
| | Exit | |
| JULIET | 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 | 210 |
| | In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. | |
| LADY CAPULET | Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: | |
| | Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. | |
| | Exit | |
| JULIET | O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? | |
| | My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; | 215 |
| | How shall that faith return again to earth, | |
| | Unless that husband send it me from heaven | |
| | By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. | |
| | Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems | |
| | Upon so soft a subject as myself! | 220 |
| | What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? | |
| | Some comfort, nurse. | |
| Nurse | Faith, here it is. | |
| | Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, | |
| | That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; | 225 |
| | Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. | |
| | Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, | |
| | I think it best you married with the county. | |
| | O, he's a lovely gentleman! | |
| | Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, | 230 |
| | Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye | |
| | As Paris hath. Beshrew 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, | 235 |
| | As living here and you no use of him. | |
| JULIET | Speakest thou from thy heart? | |
| Nurse | And from my soul too; | |
| | Or else beshrew them both. | |
| JULIET | Amen! | 240 |
| Nurse | What? | |
| JULIET | 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. | 245 |
| Nurse | Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. | |
| | Exit | |
| JULIET | Ancient damnation! 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 | 250 |
| | 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. | |
| | Exit | |
