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to time Every good hap to you that chances here: Give me thy hand; 'tis late; farewell; good night.
Romeo. But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It were a grief so brief to part with thee: Farewell.
[Exeunt.]
Scene IV. A Room in Capulet's House.
[Enter Capulet, Lady Capulet, and Paris.]
Capulet. Things have fallen out, sir, so unluckily That we have had no time to move our daughter: Look you,
she lov'd her kinsman Tybalt dearly, And so did I; well, we were born to die. 'Tis very late; she'll not come
down to-night: I promise you, but for your company, I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
Paris. These times of woe afford no tune to woo.-- Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
Lady Capulet. I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; To-night she's mew'd up to her heaviness.
Capulet. Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender Of my child's love: I think she will be rul'd In all respects by
me; nay more, I doubt it not.-- Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next,-- But, soft! what day is this?
Paris. Monday, my lord.
Capulet. Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, Thursday let it be;--a Thursday, tell her, She shall be
married to this noble earl.-- Will you be ready? do you like this haste? We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or
two; For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, It may be thought we held him carelessly, Being our kinsman, if
we revel much: Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, And there an end. But what say you to
Thursday?
Paris. My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 42
Capulet. Well, get you gone: o' Thursday be it then.-- 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 very late
That we may call it early by and by.-- Good night.
[Exeunt.]
Scene V. An open Gallery to Juliet's Chamber, overlooking the Garden.
[Enter Romeo and Juliet.]
Juliet. 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 yond pomegranate tree: Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
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.
Juliet. Yond light is not daylight, 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 the way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone.
Romeo. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; I am content, so thou wilt have it so. I'll say yon gray 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 heaven 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.
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 chang'd 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.
Romeo. More light and light,--more dark and dark our woes!
[Enter Nurse.]
Nurse. Madam!
Juliet. Nurse?
Nurse. Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: The day is broke; be wary, look about.
[Exit.]
Juliet. Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
Romeo. Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
[Descends.]
Juliet. Art thou gone so? my lord, my love, my friend! 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 my Romeo!
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Romeo. Farewell! I will omit no opportunity That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
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.
Juliet. O God! 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 eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
Romeo. And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
[Exit below.]
Juliet. 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.
Lady Capulet. [Within.] Ho, daughter! are you up?
Juliet. 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.]
Lady Capulet. Why, how now, Juliet?
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.
Juliet. Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
Lady Capulet. So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend Which you weep for.
Juliet. Feeling so the loss, I cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
Lady Capulet. Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death As that the villain lives which slaughter'd
him.
Juliet. What villain, madam?
Lady Capulet. That same villain Romeo.
Juliet. Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- God pardon him! I do, with all my heart; And yet no man like
he doth grieve my heart.
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!
Lady Capulet. We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,--
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Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,-- Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram That he shall soon
keep Tybalt company: And then I hope thou wilt be satisfied.
Juliet. 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 I bore my cousin Tybalt Upon his body that hath slaughter'd him!
Lady Capulet. Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
Juliet. And joy comes well in such a needy time: What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
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.
Juliet. Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
Lady Capulet. Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn The gallant, young, and noble gentleman, The
County Paris, at St. Peter's Church, Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
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!
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