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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-
Cap. Well, get you gone: -O'Thursday be it
Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.-
Farewell, my lord. - Light to my chamber, ho!
Afore me, it is so very late, that we
May call it early by and by:- Good night.
Enter Romeo and JULIET.
Jul. Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree:
Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
Rom, 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
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ;
I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Jul. 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,
And light thee on thy way to Mantua :
Therefore stay yet, thou need’st not to be gone.
Rom. 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,
'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow?!
Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
The vaulty beaven so high above our heads :
I have more care to stay, than will to go;
Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
How is 't, my soul ? let 's talk, it is not day.
Jul. 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 ' ;
This doth not so, for she divideth us :
Some say, the lark and loathed toad change eyes ;
0, now I would they had chang’d voices too!
0, now be gone; more light and light it grows
Rom. More light and light?
more dark ánd dark our woes.
Enter Nurse. Nurse. Madam! Jul. Nurse? Nurse. Your lady mother's coming to your cham
ber: The day is broke; be wary, look about.
[Exit Nurse. Jul. Then, window, let day in, and let life out. Rom. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I 'll descend.
[Romeo descends. Jul. Art thou
I must hear from thee every day i' the hour,
For in a minute there are many days:
O! by this count I shall be much in years,
Ere I again behold
Rom. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity
That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
> Reflection of the moon.
8 Inclination. 9 Division was the technical phrase for musical composition.
Jul. 'O, think'st thou, we shall ever meet again?
Rom. I doubt it not; and all these woes shall
For sweet discourses in our time to come.
Jul. Alas! I have an ill-divining soul :
Methinks, I see thee, now thou art below,
As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
Either my eye-sight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Rom. And trust me, love, in my eye so do
you: Dry sorrow drinks'our blood. Adieu! adieu !
Jul. 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,
La. Cap. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up!
Jul. 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. La. Cap. Why, how now, Juliet ?' Jul.
Madam, I am not well. La. Cap. Evermore weeping for your cousin's
death? What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with
tears? And if thou could’st, thou could'st not make him
live; Therefore, have done : Some grief shows much of
But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
Jul. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
La.,Cap. So shall you feel the loss, but not the
friend. Which you weep for.
Feeling so the loss,
I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
La. Cap. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much
for his death,
As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
Jul. What villain, madam ?
That same villain, Romeo.
Jul. Villain and he are many miles asunder.
Heaven pardon him! I do, with all my heart ;
And yet no man, like he, doth grieve my heart.
La. Cap. That is, because the traitor murderer
Jul. Ay, madam, from the reach of these my
'Would, none but I might venge my cousin's death!
La. Cap. We will have vengeance for it, fear
thou not: Then weep no more.
I'll send to one in Man-
Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
That shall bestow on him so sure a draught,
That he shall soon keep Tybalt company :
And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
Jul. Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
With Romeo, till I behold him-dead-
Is my poor heart so for a kinsman vex’d:-
Madam, if you could find out but a man
To bear a poison, I would temper it;
That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
Soon sleep in quiet. — o, how my heart abhors
To hear him nam’d, - and cannot come to him,-
To wreak the love Í bore my cousin Tybalt
Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
La. Cap. Find thou the means, and I'll find such
But now I'll tell theg joyful tidings, girl.
Jul. And joy comes well in such a needful time:
What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
La. Cap. Well, well, thou hast a careful father,
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.
Jul. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
La. Cap. Marry, my child, early next Thursday
The gallant, young, and noble gentleman,
The county Paris, at Saint Peter's church,
Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
Jul. Now, by Saint Peter's church, and Peter
He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
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,
Rather than Paris : These are news indeed !
La. Cap. Here comes your father; tell him so
And see how he will take it at
Enter CAPULET and Nurse.
Cap. When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle
But for the sunset of
It rains downright.-
How now? a conduit, girl? what, still in tears ?
Ever more showering? In one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind :
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
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