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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.
Jul. Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse,
farewell.
[Exeunt. so

[SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell.]
Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO.

Fri. L. So smile the heavens upon this holy act,

That after hours with sorrow chide us not! Rom. Amen, amen! but come what sorrow

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 [20 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 [26 quarrell'd 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 [30 shoes with old riband? And yet thou wilt tutor me for 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, Petruchio, and others.

36

Ben. By my head, here comes the Capulets.

Rom. I do protest, I never injured 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! Alla stoccata carries it away. [Draws.] Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?

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79

Tyb. What wouldst 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.
Rom. Gentle Mercutio, put thy
Mer. Come, sir, your passado.
Rom. Draw, Benvolio; beat

weapons.

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[Drawing.] rapier up. [They fight.] down their

Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! »
Tybalt, Mercutio, the Prince expressly hath
Forbid this bandying in Verona streets.
Hold, Tybalt! Good Mercutio!

Mer.

[Tybalt under Romeo's arm thrusts Mercutio, and flies.

I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing? Ben. What, art thou hurt? Mer. Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 't is enough.

surgeon.

Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a [Exit Page.] Rom. Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.

Mer. No, 't is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church-door; but 't is enough, 't will serve. Ask for me to-morrow, and you [10 shall find me a grave man. I am pepper'd, I warrant, for this world. A plague of 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.

Rom. I thought all for the best.

198

Mer. 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!

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[Exeunt [Mercutio and Benvolio). Rom. 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 cousin! O sweet Juliet,
Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
And in my temper soft'ned valour's steel! 130
Re-enter BENVOLIO.

Ben. O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!

That gallant spirit hath aspir'd the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. Rom. This day's black fate on moe days

doth depend;

Jul. Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, Towards Phoebus' lodging; such a waggoner As Phaethon 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 Lovers can see to do their amorous rites, And by their own beauties; or, if love be blind, It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, 10 Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, And learn me how to lose a winning match, Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods. Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, With thy black mantle; till strange love grow

bold,

15

Think true love acted, simple modesty. 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,

20

25

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 the mansion of & 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,

Enter NURSE, with cords.

30

And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks

But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.

This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
Hath Romeo slain himself? Say thou but ay,
And that bare vowel I shall poison more
Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice.
I am not I, if there be such an ay;
Or those eyes shut, that makes thee answer ay.
If he be slain, say ay; or if not, no.
Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
Nurse. I saw the wound, I saw it with mine
eyes,

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God save the mark! - here on his manly breast.
A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse!
Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
All in gore-blood; I swounded 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! 60
Nurse. O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I
had!

O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
That ever I should live to see thee dead!

Jul. What storm is this that blows so contrary?

Is Romeo slaught'red, and is Tybalt dead? 65
My dearest 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.

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Jul. O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?

Nurse. It did, it did; alas the day, it did! Jul. O serpent heart, hid with a flow'ring

face!

These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.

Shame come to Romeo!
Jul.

Blister'd be thy tongue
For such a wish! he was not born to shame. a
Upon his brow shame is asham'd to sit;
For 't is a throne where honour may be crown'd
Sole monarch of the universal earth.

O, what a beast was I to chide at him! Nurse. Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?

Jul. Shall I speak ill of him that is my hus

band?

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 kill'd my hus

band.

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.

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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 be

guil'd,

Both you and I, for Romeo is exil'd.

To comfort you; I wot well where he is. Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night. 140 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. [Exeunt.

[SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell.] Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, ROMEO [following]. Fri. L. Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:

Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
And thou art wedded to calamity.

Rom. Father, what news? What is the
Prince's doom?

What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
That I yet know not?

Fri. L.

Too familiar

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.
Fri. L. O, then I see that madmen have no

ears.

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