God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
That's my good son: but where hast thou been then?
I'll tell thee ere thou ask it me again.
I have been feasting with mine enemy;
Where, on a sudden, one hath wounded me
That's by me wounded. Both our remedies
Within thy help and holy physic lies;
I bear no hatred, blessed man; for, lo,
My intercession likewise steads my foe.
Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
And all combin'd, save what thou must combine
By holy marriage: when, and where, and how
We met, we woo'd, and made exchange of vow,
I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
That thou consent to marry us to-day.
Holy Saint Francis! what a change is here!
Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear,
So soon forsaken? young men's love, then, lies
Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
How much salt water thrown away in waste,
To season love, that of it doth not taste!
The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
Thy old groans ring yet in mine ancient ears;
Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
If e'er thou wast thyself, and these woes thine,
Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline;
And art thou chang'd? Pronounce this sentence then, -
Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
Thou chidd'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
And bad'st me bury love.
Not in a grave
To lay one in, another out to have.
I pray thee chide not: she whom I love now
Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
The other did not so.
O, she knew well
Thy love did read by rote, that could not spell.
But come, young waverer, come go with me,
In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
Wisely, and slow; they stumble that run fast.
Scene IV. A Street.
[Enter Benvolio and Mercutio.]
Where the devil should this Romeo be? -
Came he not home to-night?
Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline,
Torments him so that he will sure run mad.
Tybalt, the kinsman to old Capulet,
Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
A challenge, on my life.
Romeo will answer it.
Any man that can write may answer a letter.
Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
dares, being dared.
Alas, poor Romeo, he is already dead! stabbed with a white
wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a love song; the
very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy's butt-shaft:
and is he a man to encounter Tybalt?
Why, what is Tybalt?
More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he's the
courageous captain of compliments. He fights as you sing
prick-song - keeps time, distance, and proportion; rests me his
minim rest, one, two, and the third in your bosom: the very
butcher of a silk button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of
the very first house, - of the first and second cause: ah, the
immortal passado! the punto reverso! the hay. -
The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting fantasticoes; these
new tuners of accents! - 'By Jesu, a very good blade! - a very tall
man! - a very good whore!' - Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with these strange
flies, these fashion-mongers, these pardonnez-moi's, who stand so
much on the new form that they cannot sit at ease on the old
bench? O, their bons, their bons!
Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo!
Without his roe, like a dried herring. - O flesh, flesh, how art
thou fishified! - Now is he for the numbers that Petrarch flowed
in: Laura, to his lady, was but a kitchen wench, - marry, she had
a better love to be-rhyme her; Dido, a dowdy; Cleopatra, a gypsy;
Helen and Hero, hildings and harlots; Thisbe, a gray eye or so,
but not to the purpose, -
Signior Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation to your
French slop. You gave us the counterfeit fairly last night.
Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
The slip, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in such a
case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
That's as much as to say, such a case as yours constrains a
man to bow in the hams.
Meaning, to court'sy.
Thou hast most kindly hit it.
A most courteous exposition.
Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
Pink for flower.
Why, then is my pump well-flowered.
Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast worn out
thy pump;that, when the single sole of it is worn, the jest may
remain, after the wearing, sole singular.
O single-soled jest, solely singular for the singleness!
Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
Swits and spurs, swits and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done; for
thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of thy wits than, I am
sure, I have in my whole five: was I with you there for the
Thou wast never with me for anything when thou wast not
there for the goose.
I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
Nay, good goose, bite not.
Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp
And is it not, then, well served in to a sweet goose?
O, here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch
narrow to an ell broad!
I stretch it out for that word broad: which added to the
goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art
thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; not art thou what thou art, by
art as well as by nature: for this drivelling love is like a
great natural, that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble
in a hole.
Stop there, stop there.
Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: for I was
come to the whole depth of my tale; and meant indeed to occupy
the argument no longer.
Here's goodly gear!
[Enter Nurse and Peter.]
A sail, a sail, a sail!
Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
My fan, Peter.
Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the fairer face.
God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
God ye good-den, fair gentlewoman.
Is it good-den?
'Tis no less, I tell ye; for the bawdy hand of the dial is
now upon the prick of noon.
Out upon you! what a man are you!
One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to mar.
By my troth, it is well said; - for himself to mar, quoth
'a? - Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I may find the young
I can tell you: but young Romeo will be older when you have
found him than he was when you sought him: I am the youngest of
that name, for fault of a worse.
You say well.
Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; wisely,
If you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with you.
She will indite him to some supper.
A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! So ho!
What hast thou found?
No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is
something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
An old hare hoar,
And an old hare hoar,
Is very good meat in Lent;
But a hare that is hoar
Is too much for a score
When it hoars ere it be spent.
Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll to dinner thither.
I will follow you.
Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, -
[singing] lady, lady, lady.
[Exeunt Mercutio, and Benvolio.]
Marry, farewell! - I pray you, sir, what saucy merchant was
this that was so full of his ropery?
A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk; and
will speak more in a minute than he will stand to in a month.
An 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down, an'a
were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks; and if I cannot,
I'll find those that shall. Scurvy knave! I am none of his
flirt-gills; I am none of his skains-mates. - And thou must stand
by too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure!
Peter. I saw no man use you at his pleasure; if I had, my weapon
should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare draw as soon
as another man, if I see occasion in a good quarrel, and the law
on my side.
Now, afore God, I am so vexed that every part about me
quivers. Scurvy knave! - Pray you, sir, a word: and, as I told
you, my young lady bid me enquire you out; what she bade me say I
will keep to myself: but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead
her into a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
kind of behaviour, as they say: for the gentlewoman is young;
and, therefore, if you should deal double with her, truly it were
an ill thing to be offered to any gentlewoman, and very weak
Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I protest unto
Good heart, and i' faith I will tell her as much: Lord,
Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
I will tell her, sir, - that you do protest: which, as I
take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
Bid her devise some means to come to shrift
And there she shall at Friar Lawrence' cell
Be shriv'd and married. Here is for thy pains.
No, truly, sir; not a penny.
Go to; I say you shall.
This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey-wall:
Within 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.
Now God in heaven bless thee! - Hark you, sir.
What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady. - Lord, Lord!
when 'twas a little prating thing, - O, there's a nobleman in
town, one Paris, that would fain lay knife aboard; but she, good
soul, had as lief 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 versal world. Doth not rosemary and Romeo begin both with
Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
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.
Commend me to thy lady.
Ay, a thousand times. [Exit Romeo.] - Peter!
Peter, take my fan, and go before.
Scene V. Capulet's Garden.
The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
In half an hour she promis'd 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 lowering 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. -
O God, she comes!
[Enter Nurse and Peter].
O honey nurse, what news?
Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
Peter, stay at the gate.
Now, good sweet nurse, - O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
If good, thou sham'st the music of sweet news
By playing it to me with so sour a face.
I am aweary, give me leave awhile; -
Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
Nay, come, I pray thee speak; - good, good nurse, speak.
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 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?
Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not how to
choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; rhough his face be better than
any man's, yet his leg excels all men's; and for a hand and a
foot, and a body, - though they be not to be talked on, yet they
are past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, - but I'll
warrant him as gentle as a lamb. - Go thy ways, wench; serve God.-
-What, have you dined at home?
No, no: but all this did I know before.
What says he of our marriage? what of that?
Lord, 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 jauncing up and down!
I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
And a courteous, and a kind, and a handsome;
And, I warrant, a virtuous, - Where is your mother?
Where is my mother? - why, she is within;
Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, -
'Where is your mother?'
O God's lady dear!
Are you so hot? marry,come up, I trow;
Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
Henceforward,do your messages yourself.
Here's such a coil! - come, what says Romeo?
Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
Then hie you hence to Friar Lawrence' cell;
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,
To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
I am the drudge, and toil in your delight;
But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
Go; I'll to dinner; hie you to the cell.
Hie to high fortune! - honest nurse, farewell.
Scene VI. Friar Lawrence's Cell.
[Enter Friar Lawrence and Romeo.]
So smile the heavens upon this holy act
That after-hours with sorrow chide us not!
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.
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.
Here comes the lady: - O, so light a foot
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
A lover may bestride the gossamer
That idles in the wanton summer air
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
Good-even to my ghostly confessor.
Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
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.
Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
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 sum of half my wealth.
Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
Till holy church incorporate two in one.
Scene I. A public Place.
[Enter Mercutio, Benvolio, Page, and Servants.]
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.
Thou art like one of these fellows that, when he enters the
confines of a tavern, claps me his sword upon the table, and says
'God send me no need of thee!' and by the operation of the second
cup draws him on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
Am I like such a fellow?
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
And what to?
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? with
another for tying his new shoes with an old riband? and yet thou
wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
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.
The fee simple! O simple!
By my head, here come the Capulets.
By my heel, I care not.
[Enter Tybalt and others.]
Follow me close, for I will speak to them. - Gentlemen, good-den:
a word with one of you.
And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make
it a word and a blow.
You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you will give
Could you not take some occasion without giving?
Mercutio, thou consortest with Romeo, -
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. Zounds, consort!
We talk here in the public haunt of men:
Either withdraw unto some private place,
And reason coldly of your grievances,
Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
Well, peace be with you, sir. - Here comes my man.
But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
Your worship in that sense may call him man.
Romeo, the love I bear thee can afford
No better term than this, - Thou art a villain.
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.
Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
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.
O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.]
Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
What wouldst thou have with me?
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,
dry-beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of
his pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears
ere it be out.
I am for you. [Drawing.]
Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
Come, sir, your passado.
Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. -
Gentlemen, for shame! forbear this outrage! -
Tybalt, - Mercutio, - the prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets. -
Hold, Tybalt! - good Mercutio! -
[Exeunt Tybalt with his Partizans.]
I am hurt; -
A plague o' both your houses! - I am sped. -
Is he gone, and hath nothing?
What, art thou hurt?
Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. -
Where is my page? - go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door;
but 'tis enough, 'twill serve: ask for me to-morrow, and you
shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this
world. - A plague o' both your houses! - Zounds, a dog, a rat, a
mouse, a cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a rogue, a
villain, that fights by the book of arithmetic! - Why the devil
came you between us? I was hurt under your arm.
I thought all for the best.
Help me into some house, Benvolio,
Or I shall faint. - A plague o' both your houses!
They have made worms' meat of me:
I have it, and soundly too. - Your houses!
[Exit Mercutio and Benvolio.]
This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
With Tybalt's slander, - Tybalt, that an hour
Hath been my kinsman. - O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soften'd valour's steel.
O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds,
Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
This but begins the woe others must end.
Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
Alive in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
Away to heaven respective lenity,
And fire-ey'd fury be my conduct now! -
Now, Tybalt, take the 'villain' back again
That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
Is but a little way above our heads,
Staying for thine to keep him company.
Either thou or I, or both, must go with him.
Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
Shalt with him hence.
This shall determine that.
[They fight; Tybalt falls.]
Romeo, away, be gone!
The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. -
Stand not amaz'd. The prince will doom thee death
If thou art taken. Hence, be gone, away!
O, I am fortune's fool!
Why dost thou stay?
[Enter Citizens, &c.]
Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
There lies that Tybalt.
Up, sir, go with me;
I charge thee in the prince's name obey.
[Enter Prince, attended; Montague, Capulet, their Wives,