1    Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
2    It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
3    That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
4    Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:
5    Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.

6    It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
7    No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
8    Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
9    Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
10   Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
11   I must be gone and live, or stay and die.

12   Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
13   It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
14   To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
15   And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
16   Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.

17   Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
18   I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
19   I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
20   'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
21   Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
22   The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
23   I have more care to stay than will to go:
24   Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
25   How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.

26   It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!
27   It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
28   Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
29   Some say the lark makes sweet division;
30   This doth not so, for she divideth us:
31   Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
32   O, now I would they had changed voices too!
33   Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
34   Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day,
35   O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.

36   More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!

37   Madam!

38   Nurse?

39   Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:
40   The day is broke; be wary, look about.

41   Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

42   Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.

43   Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!
44   I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
45   For in a minute there are many days:
46   O, by this count I shall be much in years
47   Ere I again behold my Romeo!

48   Farewell!
49   I will omit no opportunity
50   That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

51   O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

52   I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
53   For sweet discourses in our time to come.

54   O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
55   Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
56   As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
57   Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.

58   And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
59   Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!

60   O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
61   If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.
62   That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
63   For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
64   But send him back.

Within
65    Ho, daughter! are you up?

66   Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
67   Is she not down so late, or up so early?
68   What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?

69   Why, how now, Juliet!

70   Madam, I am not well.

71   Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
72   What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
73   An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
74   Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
75   But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

76   Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.

77   So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
78   Which you weep for.

79   Feeling so the loss,
80   Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.

81   Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
82   As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.

83   What villain madam?

84   That same villain, Romeo.

Aside
85    Villain and he be many miles asunder.--
86   God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
87   And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.

88   That is, because the traitor murderer lives.

89   Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
90   Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!

91   We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
92   Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
93   Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
94   Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
95   That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
96   And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.

97   Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
98   With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--
99   Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
100  Madam, if you could find out but a man
101  To bear a poison, I would temper it;
102  That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
103  Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
104  To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
105  To wreak the love I bore my cousin
106  Upon his body that slaughter'd him!

107  Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
108  But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.

109  And joy comes well in such a needy time:
110  What are they, I beseech your ladyship?

111  Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
112  One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
113  Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
114  That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.

115  Madam, in happy time, what day is that?

116  Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
117  The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
118  The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
119  Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.

120  Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
121  He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
122  I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
123  Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
124  I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
125  I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
126  It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
127  Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!

128  Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
129  And see how he will take it at your hands.

130  When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
131  But for the sunset of my brother's son
132  It rains downright.
133  How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
134  Evermore showering? In one little body
135  Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
136  For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
137  Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
138  Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;
139  Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
140  Without a sudden calm, will overset
141  Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!
142  Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

143  Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
144  I would the fool were married to her grave!

145  Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
146  How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
147  Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
148  Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
149  So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

150  Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
151  Proud can I never be of what I hate;
152  But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.

153  How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
154  'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'
155  And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you,
156  Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
157  But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
158  To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
159  Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
160  Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
161  You tallow-face!

162  Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

163  Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
164  Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

165  Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
166  I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
167  Or never after look me in the face:
168  Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
169  My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
170  That God had lent us but this only child;
171  But now I see this one is one too much,
172  And that we have a curse in having her:
173  Out on her, hilding!

174  God in heaven bless her!
175  You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

176  And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
177  Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.

178  I speak no treason.

179  O, God ye god-den.

180  May not one speak?

181  Peace, you mumbling fool!
182  Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
183  For here we need it not.

184  You are too hot.

185  God's bread! it makes me mad:
186  Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
187  Alone, in company, still my care hath been
188  To have her match'd: and having now provided
189  A gentleman of noble parentage,
190  Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
191  Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
192  Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
193  And then to have a wretched puling fool,
194  A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
195  To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
196  I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'
197  But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
198  Graze where you will you shall not house with me:
199  Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
200  Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
201  An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
202  And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
203  the streets,
204  For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
205  Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
206  Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.

207  Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
208  That sees into the bottom of my grief?
209  O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
210  Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
211  Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
212  In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

213  Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
214  Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

215  O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
216  My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
217  How shall that faith return again to earth,
218  Unless that husband send it me from heaven
219  By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.
220  Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
221  Upon so soft a subject as myself!
222  What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
223  Some comfort, nurse.

224  Faith, here it is.
225  Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing,
226  That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
227  Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
228  Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
229  I think it best you married with the county.
230  O, he's a lovely gentleman!
231  Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,
232  Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
233  As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
234  I think you are happy in this second match,
235  For it excels your first: or if it did not,
236  Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
237  As living here and you no use of him.

238  Speakest thou from thy heart?

239  And from my soul too;
240  Or else beshrew them both.

241  Amen!

242  What?

243  Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
244  Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,
245  Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,
246  To make confession and to be absolved.

247  Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.

248  Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
249  Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
250  Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
251  Which she hath praised him with above compare
252  So many thousand times? Go, counsellor;
253  Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
254  I'll to the friar, to know his remedy:
255  If all else fail, myself have power to die.