Shakespeare

Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; Whole misadventured piteous overthrows Do with their death bury their parents' strife. The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, And the continuance of their parents' rage, Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; The which if you with patient ears attend, What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Prologue

SAMPSON I strike quickly, being moved. GREGORY But thou art not quickly moved to strike. SAMPSON A dog of the house of Montague moves me. GREGORY To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. SAMPSON A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. GREGORY That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall. SAMPSON True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall. GREGORY The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. SAMPSON 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids, and cut off their heads. GREGORY The heads of the maids? SAMPSON Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt. GREGORY They must take it in sense that feel it.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

TYBALT What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. BENVOLIO I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, Or manage it to part these men with me. TYBALT What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: Have at thee, coward!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

LADY MONTAGUE O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? Right glad I am he was not at this fray. BENVOLIO Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; Where, underneath the grove of sycamore That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son: Towards him I made, but he was ware of me And stole into the covert of the wood: I, measuring his affections by my own, That most are busied when they're most alone, Pursued my humour not pursuing his, And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

MONTAGUE Many a morning hath he there been seen, With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; But all so soon as the all-cheering sun Should in the furthest east begin to draw The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, Away from the light steals home my heavy son, And private in his chamber pens himself, Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out And makes himself an artificial night: Black and portentous must this humour prove, Unless good counsel may the cause remove.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

BENVOLIO Good-morrow, cousin. ROMEO Is the day so young? BENVOLIO But new struck nine. ROMEO Ay me! sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? BENVOLIO It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? ROMEO Not having that, which, having, makes them short. BENVOLIO In love? ROMEO Out-- BENVOLIO Of love? ROMEO Out of her favour, where I am in love. BENVOLIO Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! ROMEO Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! O any thing, of nothing first create! O heavy lightness! serious vanity! Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health! Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this. Dost thou not laugh? BENVOLIO No, coz, I rather weep.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

ROMEO Why, such is love's transgression. Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: What is it else? a madness most discreet, A choking gall and a preserving sweet. Farewell, my coz.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

BENVOLIO Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. ROMEO What, shall I groan and tell thee? BENVOLIO Groan! why, no. But sadly tell me who. ROMEO Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. BENVOLIO I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. ROMEO A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. BENVOLIO A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

ROMEO Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. She will not stay the siege of loving terms, Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, That when she dies with beauty dies her store. BENVOLIO Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? ROMEO She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, For beauty starved with her severity Cuts beauty off from all posterity. She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, To merit bliss by making me despair: She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow Do I live dead that live to tell it now.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

BENVOLIO Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. ROMEO O, teach me how I should forget to think. BENVOLIO By giving liberty unto thine eyes; Examine other beauties. ROMEO 'Tis the way To call hers exquisite, in question more: These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; He that is strucken blind cannot forget The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: Show me a mistress that is passing fair, What doth her beauty serve, but as a note Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. BENVOLIO I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene I

CAPULET But saying o'er what I have said before: My child is yet a stranger in the world; She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, Let two more summers wither in their pride, Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. PARIS Younger than she are happy mothers made. CAPULET And too soon marr'd are those so early made. The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, She is the hopeful lady of my earth: But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, My will to her consent is but a part; An she agree, within her scope of choice Lies my consent and fair according voice.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene II

BENVOLIO At this same ancient feast of Capulet's Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, With all the admired beauties of Verona: Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, Compare her face with some that I shall show, And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. ROMEO When the devout religion of mine eye Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; And these, who often drown'd could never die, Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. BENVOLIO Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, Herself poised with herself in either eye: But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd Your lady's love against some other maid That I will show you shining at this feast, And she shall scant show well that now shows best. ROMEO I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene II

LADY CAPULET Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, How stands your disposition to be married? JULIET It is an honour that I dream not of.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene III

Nurse Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene III

ROMEO Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; Being but heavy, I will bear the light. MERCUTIO Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. ROMEO Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene IV

MERCUTIO You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, And soar with them above a common bound. ROMEO I am too sore enpierced with his shaft To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: Under love's heavy burden do I sink. MERCUTIO And, to sink in it, should you burden love; Too great oppression for a tender thing. ROMEO Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. MERCUTIO If love be rough with you, be rough with love; Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene IV

MERCUTIO True, I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain, Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, Which is as thin of substance as the air And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes Even now the frozen bosom of the north, And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene IV

ROMEO O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V

ROMEO [To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. JULIET Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. ROMEO Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? JULIET Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. ROMEO O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. JULIET Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. ROMEO Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. JULIET Then have my lips the sin that they have took. ROMEO Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again. JULIET You kiss by the book.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V

JULIET My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act I, Scene V

BENVOLIO Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, To be consorted with the humorous night: Blind is his love and best befits the dark. MERCUTIO If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. Now will he sit under a medlar tree, And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. Romeo, that she were, O, that she were An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: Come, shall we go? BENVOLIO Go, then; for 'tis in vain To seek him here that means not to be found.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene I

ROMEO He jests at scars that never felt a wound. [JULIET appears above at a window] But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou her maid art far more fair than she: Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. It is my lady, O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were! She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? Her eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, Having some business, do entreat her eyes To twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head? The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET Ay me! ROMEO She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As glorious to this night, being o'er my head As is a winged messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds And sails upon the bosom of the air. JULIET O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET 'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, Retain that dear perfection which he owes Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee Take all myself. ROMEO I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night So stumblest on my counsel? ROMEO By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am: My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, Because it is an enemy to thee; Had I it written, I would tear the word. JULIET My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? ROMEO Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, And the place death, considering who thou art, If any of my kinsmen find thee here. ROMEO With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET If they do see thee, they will murder thee. ROMEO Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity. JULIET I would not for the world they saw thee here. ROMEO I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET By whose direction found'st thou out this place? ROMEO By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

ROMEO Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- JULIET O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. ROMEO What shall I swear by? JULIET Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee. ROMEO If my heart's dear love-- JULIET Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

ROMEO O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JULIET What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? ROMEO The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. JULIET I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: And yet I would it were to give again. ROMEO Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? JULIET But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have: My bounty is as boundless as the sea, My love as deep; the more I give to thee, The more I have, for both are infinite.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. If that thy bent of love be honourable, Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, By one that I'll procure to come to thee, Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay And follow thee my lord throughout the world.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, To lure this tassel-gentle back again! Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, With repetition of my Romeo's name. ROMEO It is my soul that calls upon my name: How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, Like softest music to attending ears!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

JULIET Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene II

ROMEO 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. FRIAR LAURENCE Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! Is Rosaline, whom 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 my 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 changed? pronounce this sentence then, Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene III

MERCUTIO 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 goose? ROMEO Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast not there for the goose. MERCUTIO I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. ROMEO Nay, good goose, bite not. MERCUTIO Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce. ROMEO And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? MERCUTIO O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an inch narrow to an ell broad! ROMEO I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. MERCUTIO Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene IV

JULIET Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would 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!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene V

Nurse I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! JULIET I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. Nurse Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? Do you not see that I am out of breath? JULIET 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?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene V

JULIET I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? Nurse 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? JULIET 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?'

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene V

FRIAR LAURENCE So smile the heavens upon this holy act, That after hours with sorrow chide us not! ROMEO 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI

FRIAR LAURENCE 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI

MERCUTIO 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 fun 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 old riband? and yet thou wilt tutor me from quarrelling!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

TYBALT Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford No better term than this,--thou art a villain. ROMEO 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. TYBALT Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

TYBALT What wouldst thou have with me? MERCUTIO 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 pitcher by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

MERCUTIO I am hurt. A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing? BENVOLIO What, art thou hurt? MERCUTIO Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

ROMEO Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. MERCUTIO 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

BENVOLIO O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. ROMEO This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe, others must end. BENVOLIO Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

BENVOLIO Romeo, away, be gone! The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! ROMEO O, I am fortune's fool!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

LADY CAPULET He is a kinsman to the Montague; Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, And all those twenty could but kill one life. I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. PRINCE Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene I

Nurse Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. JULIET O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? Nurse It did, it did; alas the day, it did!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene II

Nurse There's no trust, No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. Shame come to Romeo!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene II

ROMEO Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' For exile hath more terror in his look, Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

ROMEO '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: Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: They are free men, but I am banished. And say'st 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; Howlings attend 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'?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. ROMEO O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE O, then I see that madmen have no ears. ROMEO How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

ROMEO 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

Nurse O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? FRIAR LAURENCE There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. Nurse O, he is even in my mistress' case, Just in her case! O woful sympathy! Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; Why should you fall into so deep an O?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

ROMEO Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? Doth she not think me an old murderer, Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy With blood removed but little from her own? Where is she? and how doth she? and what says My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE ... 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 slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; Happiness courts thee in her best array; But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

FRIAR LAURENCE ... 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene III

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: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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 Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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, And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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; 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, O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

JULIET Madam, I am not well. 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

LADY CAPULET Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

JULIET Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, 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!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

CAPULET Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? 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?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

CAPULET Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, 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, And that we have a curse in having her: Out on her, hilding!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

CAPULET God's bread! it makes me mad: Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, 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, 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.'

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

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 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.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene V

FRIAR LAURENCE You say you do not know the lady's mind: Uneven is the course, I like it not. PARIS Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, And therefore have I little talk'd of love; For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, To stop the inundation of her tears; Which, too much minded by herself alone, May be put from her by society: Now do you know the reason of this haste.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I

PARIS Come you to make confession to this father? JULIET To answer that, I should confess to you. PARIS Do not deny to him that you love me. JULIET I will confess to you that I love him. PARIS So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I

PARIS Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. JULIET The tears have got small victory by that; For it was bad enough before their spite. PARIS Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. JULIET That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; And what I spake, I spake it to my face.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I

FRIAR LAURENCE Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, Which craves as desperate an execution. As that is desperate which we would prevent. If, rather than to marry County Paris, Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, Then is it likely thou wilt undertake A thing like death to chide away this shame, That copest with death himself to scape from it: And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I

FRIAR LAURENCE Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: Take thou this vial, being then in bed, And this distilled liquor drink thou off; When presently through all thy veins shall run A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; Each part, deprived of supple government, Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene I

CAPULET How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? JULIET Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin Of disobedient opposition To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene II

FRIAR LAURENCE Come, is the bride ready to go to church? CAPULET Ready to go, but never to return.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene V

FRIAR LAURENCE Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not In these confusions. Heaven and yourself Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, And all the better is it for the maid: Your part in her you could not keep from death, But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act IV, Scene V

BALTHASAR I do beseech you, sir, have patience: Your looks are pale and wild, and do import Some misadventure. ROMEO Tush, thou art deceived: Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene I

Apothecary Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law Is death to any he that utters them. ROMEO Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; The world affords no law to make thee rich; Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. Apothecary My poverty, but not my will, consents. ROMEO I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene I

ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene I

PARIS ... Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! Can vengeance be pursued further than death? Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. ROMEO I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, Put not another sin upon my head, By urging me to fury: O, be gone! By heaven, I love thee better than myself; For I come hither arm'd against myself: Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, A madman's mercy bade thee run away.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

ROMEO ... Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, And death's pale flag is not advanced there.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

ROMEO ... Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe That unsubstantial death is amorous, And that the lean abhorred monster keeps Thee here in dark to be his paramour? For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; And never from this palace of dim night Depart again: here, here will I remain With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here Will I set up my everlasting rest, And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss A dateless bargain to engrossing death! Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! Here's to my love!

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

JULIET O comfortable friar! where is my lord? I do remember well where I should be, And there I am. Where is my Romeo?

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

JULIET ... What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make die with a restorative.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

PRINCE ... See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. And I for winking at your discords too Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III

PRINCE A glooming peace this morning with it brings; The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

— William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act V, Scene III